Page 28 of Good Enough

Really? He’s going to try this power play with me? Not going to work. Time to level the playing field.

She removed her laptop from the bag, opened it, and powered it up. Pointedly, she moved the chair from the placement designed to make her weak and rolled it to the end of the table opposite Big Bird. Now, instead of being the least important guest at the table, she was “hostess” to his “host,” leveling the power between them. She sat, and with a smile that did not reach her eyes, she asked, “Shall we begin?”

10

FEBRUARY 14TH

Waters

Nicely played, Kubrick.

Big Bird wanted to show her he was in control, and Waters would take the sure bet that the positioning of the suits, starting with Big Bird at the head of the table, then going back and forth from his right to his left and down the table would signify the amount of money each man put into the pot. Clearly, this was a boys’ club since Kubrick was the only woman at the table, let alone in the room.

There was no vacant chair for him, so Waters put his own power play into motion. Kubrick didn’t need him standing behind her like a muscleman to protect her, so instead he leaned on the wall next to the door, arms crossed over his chest, one ankle crossed over the other in fake nonchalance. And if he purposely flexed and locked his arms in place, showcasing his muscles in his tight gray T-shirt… oops.

Knock ‘em out, baby. You got this.

“Why is he here?” Big Bird growled.

“I’m sorry, which ‘he’ are you referring to? I’m the only ‘she’ in the room, so it’s rather vague.”

Kubrick one, Big Bird zero.

“You know who I’m talking about, Serrano.”

“His name is Waters. You can stop talking about him as if he’s a thing rather than a person.”

“He’s unnecessary at this meeting.”

“I want him here, so that makes him necessary. Waters is the consultant on the film; therefore, any discussion of items related to SEAL factors is pertinent to him.”

Big Bird stared her down for at least a minute. When it was clear she was only going to stare back, he spoke. “Gentlemen, page twenty, please, line two hundred and thirty-five.”

Return shot across the bow. Big Bird ties up the score.

He only addressed the men in the room. He also noticed that a paper copy of the budget had not been provided to Kubrick. She seemed unperturbed by it, pulling a binder out of her backpack.

“My page twenty of the budget stops at line two hundred and twenty-four, Stapleton,” Kubrick said loud and clear over the turning pages.

“It appears you haven’t downloaded the recent changes, Serrano,” he replied dismissively.

She pulled her laptop out of the backpack, and after a few clicks in her email, she responded, “I can’t download what I’m not given.”

“That’s not my problem. It was sent to my administrative assistant and ordered to be sent out. I don’t have the time to double-check her work.”

Big Bird takes the lead.

“Don’t you dare blame this on Felicity. I’m willing to bet your residuals she wasn’t given my name to send it to. Shall we check with her?” Kubrick gestured to the door, and Waters, without missing his cue, began to reach for the door handle.

“We don’t have time for your childish temper tantrums, Serrano. Banks, give her your copy.”

The seat-jumper tentatively pushed his packet down the table to Kubrick as if afraid she’d bite him. To her credit, she flashed him a smile, but Waters noticed that while her lips turned up, it was all teeth. And it was not a pleasant smile. He willed his cock to stand down.

Swing for the seats, woman.

She reviewed the line, then he watched her flick back a page and scan the list. Her eyes narrowed further and further with each line she reviewed. He knew the exact moment she went from irritated to furious.

Bottom of the ninth. Here we go.

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