Page 37 of Power Move
“I’m not,” I said. “Well, maybe this late in the day.”
Eva rolled her eyes. “What do you need?”
“Norm—this guy who owns board shares—is being a stick in the mud about an acquisition. He wants us to wine and dine him, but I usually bring a woman with me because he’s more receptive to reason when there are woman around.”
Eva’s shot poured into the small cup of hot water. “Why me?”
“Because I need someone under forty who’s conventionally attractive,” I admitted.
“And he’s a creep?”
“No. He’s a philanderer, but he can be very charming—to women. He’ll go easy on me if you’re there. No heavy lifting. He’s no brainiac, but he’ll be impressed with your education and general no-fucks-given way of being.”
“You excite me,” Eva said flatly.
“I will be there. Nothing will happen. He’s not a bad guy—just apersonality. Ninety percent of my job is babying other members of the board. Daphne is the one who gets to fix shit.”
Eva smiled, giggled, then gagged. It was the strangest combination. In the process, she dropped her biodegradable spoon. I tossed it in the garbage as she grabbed another.
“Shit, sorry. That happens sometimes,” Eva said, as if she malfunctioned.
I reached to rub her back, then pulled my hand back.What the fuck is that, Davey?
“What do I need to do? And when?” Eva gave over to the idea.
“It would be tomorrow night. We have a nine o’clock reservation. Norm likes to eat late.”
“That’s too late. I’ll never get home. The last train leaves at 11:30 and the next doesn’t come until 5:30.”
“I can have my driver take you home after. Or you could get a hotel room. Your choice.”
“I will take the driver,” Eva said.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you! You are saving me, Eva.”
“You’ll owe me,” Eva reminded. “But I’ll take it.”
14.NORM
Eva
In my quest tolearn to like Davey, I agreed to dine with a VIP. I felt alright about this—it was a small request, and I dealt with partnership bullshit before. Davey promised Norm Palchuck wasn’t handsy and promised to mind himself. Even now, in his fabulous Bentley, I felt okay about it. As we approached the restaurant, all bets were off.Sushi!
I kept my mouth shut as Davey spoke.
“We have a reservation for David Delphine. For three.”
“Yes, Mr. Delphine, of course. We’ve been able to guarantee you the chef’s table. The other half of your party is waiting at the bar.”
Oh, fuck!There was nothing worse than being stuck in a kitchen! Puke was a biohazard, and the menu was pre-fixe never mind the prohibition on sushi. Thankfully, Davey read my concern.
“Oh, shit!” Davey facepalmed. “You cannot eat sushi, right?”
The host jumped in. “We have other options if that doesn’t appeal.”
Before I could say anything, a woman pushed past us anddemanded a table as if reservations were not a thing. I took the time to sync with Davey.
I whispered, “It’s the smell.”
