Christy opened her mouth to respond, or maybe ask a question, but I kept talking. "Here, let me try like this. How much do you make as a bartender here, say, every year?"
She shrugged, thinking about it. "Maybe thirty or forty thousand, I guess. Why?"
"Because I can make more than that in a single job," I answered her, grinning. "And when a job takes only a few days to pull off, you can see why it's a nice lifestyle - and why I can't see giving it up and taking a normal job any time soon."
Christy's eyes had bugged out of her head when I revealed how much I made. "You make more than me, in just a few days??" she gasped. "Good god, girl, maybe I'm the one who's in the wrong career track!"
I grinned with her, but the expression fell away from my face after a moment. "Yeah, but it won't matter if I can't figure out how to get to Richard Carlyle, billionaire CEO of Veridian Dynamic, on my own, in the next day or two," I responded. "I only get paid on successes, remember."
Christy nodded, although her eyes were still a little wide as she considered how much money her friend made. "Well, what's his schedule look like?" she asked, reaching down below the bar to grab a drink for herself. "Is there anywhere that he goes regularly, where you might be able to surprise him, or bump into him 'by chance'?" She used air quotes to emphasize the 'by chance' part.
I frowned, and then pulled out my phone. "I bribed one of his assistants to slip me his schedule," I explained as I opened up the document. "Maybe I can find something."
"One of his assistants, you said?"
"Yeah, he's got, like, four of them." I scrolled through the schedule - but then stopped, frowning. "Hold on, this could be something."
Christy tried to lean further over the bar, turning her head to try and read the schedule that was, from her point of view, upside down. "What is it?"
"He's got a reservation at Skyhook," I mused, tapping the appointment with one finger. "But it looks like it's just for him."
"So?"
"So," I explained, "Skyhook is the sort of place where you need to wait a month or longer, even for just a lunch reservation. Why would he have a reservation there if no one else is joining him?"
"Maybe he's a huge foodie?" Christy guessed.
I shook my head. "No, there's another option. Some billionaires will buy a permanent private table of their own at a favorite restaurant, so that they can drop by whenever they want, without needing to get a reservation at all."
Christy nodded, but she didn't look convinced. "I don't see how this helps you, though," she pointed out.
I pointed down at my phone. "Oh, but it does!" I exclaimed, a smile growing on my face as my new plan took shape. "See, now I know one of the places where Richard Carlyle will be - and I know that he's just going there to eat, not to meet with anyone!"
Finally, I saw a matching grin spread across my bartender friend's face as she figured out what I was saying. "At least, he doesn't know that he's meeting with someone," she corrected me.
"Exactly." With a triumphant flourish, I downed the rest of my drink.
There were still plenty more details for me to figure out, but this was a start. I at least knew where I could approach Carlyle. I still had to work out what I would say to him, how I'd get him to trust me, much less trust me enough to show me all of his most secretive plans. But I had a starting point, now.
Over the next few hours, Christy and I kept on chatting back and forth, bouncing different ideas back and forth. I went through a few more drinks over the course of the afternoon, but although my head was buzzing by the time I finally left The Neighborhood to go find some dinner, I had a much better plan formed in my head.
"Good luck, Tali," Christy called out to me as I prepared to depart. "No pressure - maybe you'll end up falling for this guy!"
I rolled my eyes back at her. "You know that I hate that nickname," I half-shouted back to her. "And trust me, the last thing that I intend to do is fall in love! He's a mark that I'm using to get my hands on his company's plans - nothing more!"
Somehow, the bartender didn't look convinced. "Whatever you say," she managed to respond before I left the bar. "One of these days, Tali, I know you're going to find yourself in over your head! And when that happens, I'll help - but I'll also point out that I told you so!"
Chapter 4
Two days later, Richard Carlyle was stepping out of his jet-black Mercedes SLS AMG, tossing the keys off carelessly to the valet standing at attention nearby. He gazed up at the skyscraper in front of him, a massive wall of mirrored glass.
His destination was at the top, and the elevator just indoors carried him swiftly up towards the top floor. The glass walls of the elevator gave Carlyle an unparalleled view of the city around him as he smoothly sailed upwards.
From here, he could of course see his own skyscraper, several blocks further downtown. Veridian Dynamic had started off as a manufacturing company, but had quickly grown, and his predecessor stuck to the idea of expanding out into as many markets as he could manage, seeing it as a strong defense against a crash or downturn in any one sector. Now, there were very few pies in which Veridian didn't dip at least a small finger.
However, although his predecessors had been determined to weather any economic storm, they hadn't planned for being held accountable to the shareholders, Richard thought to himself as he leaned against the glass and watched the skyscrapers drop away below him. And when the economic downturn dragged down profits across the entire board, Veridian's stock price took an entire barrage of hits - and the former CEO quickly found himself pushed out the door, his severance package slung after him along with the contents of his office on the way out.
Richard Carlyle had different plans for Veridian.
Of course, he mused to himself, no one else knew anything more than little bits and pieces of his plan. And for the moment, Carlyle intended to keep things that way. If he kept the whole plan under wraps, he'd not have to worry about his business opponents moving against him and trying to block him.
The elevator dinged as he reached the top floor, and he stepped out into a busy room filled with the soft murmurs of conversations and the clink of glassware and silverware. With every line in his suit crisp and sharp, Richard Carlyle stepped out and headed for the hostess's station.
The Skyhook was one of the trendiest, most expensive, and most sophisticated lunch locations in the city. Located on top of one of the tallest skyscrapers in the city, the views seen from almost any table were practically unparalleled. Skyhook spared no expense in bringing in the freshest ingredients, prepared for each table by master chefs. They even accommodated many of the off-menu orders that their wealthy clients placed - for a sky-high price, of course.
Most of the time, any guest at the Skyhook needed a reservation weeks, if not months, in advance. To avoid having to jump through that hoop (or rather, to save his secretary the effort), Carlyle simply arranged for Veridian to purchase a permanent seat, allowing him to drop by whenever he felt in the mood for some tastefully elegant lunch cuisine.
The hostess recognized him immediately, of course. She gave him a little smile that suggested that she was completely at his disposal as he approached. "Ah, Mr. Carlyle. Right this way, sir. Your dining partner is already here."
Dining partner? For just a moment, Carlyle frowned. He hadn't planned on dining with anyone.
However, as they drew close to his table (a corner table, one of the best seats in the house, with absolutely stellar views up and down Broadway), he saw the slender lines and the figure-hugging dress of the woman already seated there, and he bit back his question. Still, his guard rose up, and he carefully put his poker face in place.
The hostess didn't waste time hanging around. She set the menus down in front of Carlyle and his mysterious female guest, and then vanished. Carlyle knew that a waiter would be at his elbow as soon as he gave the slightest sign he was ready to order. Skyhook also made sure to provide incredible service to its clients.
As soon as h
e sat down, however, Carlyle turned his flat gaze on the woman across the table from him. "And who are you?" he asked. "I could have you kicked out of here and banned for life, of course."
The woman smiled back at him, ignoring his threat. Her smile, unlike that of the hostess, wasn't professional in the slightest. Instead, it was filled with sensual heat, enough to make Carlyle feel a bit of blood rush to other areas of his anatomy.
"You could," the woman commented, her voice soft and just as sensual as her smile. "But if you do, you'll miss out on quite the opportunity."
Carlyle frowned. "A business opportunity?"
"That too," she replied, and her eyes swept up and down his figure. "In any case, you'd be very sorry that you missed out."
Of course, Carlyle was used to women checking him out. He'd made the "most eligible wealthy bachelors" list for the last several years, and he devoted plenty of time and energy to keeping his muscular figure and tanned, even skin. He never had to worry about running out of sexy, beautiful women who would agree to anything he suggested.
Something about this woman, however, seemed different from the usual endless parade that trooped through his bedroom. He couldn't keep himself from leaning forward, examining her a bit more clearly.
She was short but well proportioned; he guessed that she only stood perhaps five and a quarter feet, well below his own six feet of height. Her skin was tanned lightly but evenly, and her brown hair was expertly colored with both highlights and lowlights. Her clothing was perfectly acceptable for a business setting, of course, but something about the way she wore it, about how it pulled tight across her bust and hips, gave the unmistakable impression that she had a knockout body hiding beneath. Her big brown eyes were filled with intelligence as she watched him check her out.
Richard Carlyle had always trusted his intuition. And right now, he decided to trust it again. He leaned back on the chair, picking up his menu with one hand but still watching the woman over the top.
"And your name?" he asked.
"Natalia," the woman replied, still giving him that sexy, heated little smile.
"Natalia," Carlyle repeated, rolling the name around in his mouth. "Very well, Natalia. Let's eat, and you can tell me about your opportunity."
Chapter 5
By the end of lunch, I knew that I had Carlyle eating out of the palm of my hand.
It had taken me several bribes, plus a good bit of lying, to get this far. Of course, just knowing the man's name hadn't been enough to get me into Skyhook at his table. I'd eventually resorted to breaking into his secretary's office, rigging my own phone to forward through the secretary's desk phone to Skyhook, and placing the reservation ahead of time. My eventual plan had been a good bit more complex than what I'd fleshed out a couple days previously with Christy over drinks.
Still, it had all been worth it for that brief little expression of surprise when Richard Carlyle spotted me sitting at his personal table.
Once he sat down, I fed him the story I'd carefully crafted ahead of time. In my story, Carlyle's plans were already partially leaked to a competitor, and I'd been able to catch a sneak peek of them at the competitor's office. I didn't mention Geoff Britton or his company by name, of course, but I left subtle clues pointing to him as the true culprit.
After all, given that he'd hired me in truth, it was clear that he was willing to do such a thing.
Now, I offered up my discoveries and information to Carlyle as a free agent, hoping to make a profit off of what I'd learned by accident. At first, Carlyle was suspicious, but I pushed hard, even sweetening the pot by also mentioning that I knew some of the other company's counter-attack plans, and that I was willing to share those with the man sitting across from me as well.
"Very well," Carlyle finally concluded, as he finished off the last of his plate of lobster pasta. "You've convinced me - but you haven't mentioned a price."
This was where it got tricky, I thought to myself. There had been some close conversational scrapes before this, but none of those compared to this moment of truth.
I opened my mouth, waited for half a beat, and then dropped my eyes down towards my lap and sighed. "To tell the truth, I'm not interested purely in a cash payoff," I said, only slowly raising my eyes back up to meet Carlyle's. The man had quite piercing blue eyes that seemed to glitter in the sunlight, but I tightly clamped down on my subconscious to prevent from being distracted. Focus, I said to myself!
Carlyle raised his eyebrows slightly, but he waited, allowing me to continue.
"I actually have, well, I've heard things about you," I went on. Almost unconsciously, one of my hands rose up, sliding through my hair and twirling one strand around a finger. "Things about you in, well, a less than professional capacity?"
I waited half a second longer, and then finally lifted my eyes back up to Carlyle's face - but this time, my smile was genuine, tinged with slight embarrassment. "I realize that this seems totally out of line," I apologized, letting the veil of professionalism drop, "but I kind of wanted to, well, maybe get to know you better?"
"And from what I've learned about you, you seem like a totally upright and stand-up sort of guy, in business as well as in your personal life," I rushed on, before Carlyle could reply. "And that's really rare in business - trust me, I know." Here, I gave a bitter little laugh, as if recalling some of the scumbags I'd worked with in the past.
For a moment, Carlyle just stared back at me. I held my breath for a moment, and then let it out in a sigh. I dropped my gaze down to the table in front of me.
"Yeah, I probably stepped way over the line," I said, shaking my head (and also letting my hair toss about my shoulders in a seductive manner, which I pretended to completely not notice). "I'm sorry, I guess I just kind of fantasized about-"
"No, that's okay!" Carlyle burst out, interrupting me.
I glanced up, widening my eyes.
The man sighed, shaking his head as if he couldn't believe what he was saying - but he didn't close his mouth. "Maybe we can arrange a time for you to come by and speak with me in a more... private setting," he suggested. "How does your schedule look?"
"My schedule is open," I replied, breaking into a beaming smile. "It's totally open - whenever you want."
Of course, Carlyle was too much of a gentleman to send me away without offering to let me get some lunch on his dime, and I happily accepted, seeing it as a chance to get to chat and better bond with this powerful man who, barely into his thirties, had already succeeded in conquering most of the business world.
To my surprise, however, the conversation flowed naturally, without any of those awkward pauses that seem to arise so often whenever two people are first coming to know each other. I soon found myself laughing - true, genuine laughter - at some of Carlyle's sly jokes, and I made sure to do my best to at least reflect back his sparkling wit.
At one point, when I made a crack about some CEOs growing far too attached to their cars, the man snorted with his water glass to his lips, and he had to turn away for a moment as he wiped his face. My smile was completely genuine, happy to see that I'd managed to make this man crack at least once into laughter, as he'd been doing to me all throughout lunch.
"My goodness," he finally said, once he'd cleared his nose of any clinging drops of water. "Natalia, you certainly weren't what I was expecting!"
"And you weren't what I thought, either," I replied immediately, trying to not notice how my words rang more true than I had intended. Don't fall for the mark, I mentally ordered myself. He's going to take a fall so that you can get paid and afford to eat, and diverting from that plan will just lead to trouble for everyone involved - him, when he finds out the truth, and me, when Britton comes hunting for my head.
Making a split decision, I pushed back my chair and rose up from the the seat. "Well, I do have to get going," I said, the words coming quickly out of my mouth. I needed to escape! "But I've left you my number, and you can call me to set up a time for me to come by and... tal
k."
"Is there something wrong?" Carlyle was on his feet now, as well, looking a little surprised at how quickly the conversation had shifted. "If you need a ride somewhere, I can perhaps offer-"
"No!" I perhaps spoke this word a little too loudly, and although no one else in Skyhook turned their heads, I instantly realized that some of the other wealthy and powerful diners were listening in. I hastily brought my voice back down. "No, that's all right - I just lost track of time here with you, that's all. It's been... more engaging than I expected."
Fortunately, that brought a rueful little grin back to Carlyle's face. "I do have to agree, I feel quite the same way," he replied. He glanced down at the remains of his own meal. "Well, Natalia, it was quite the unexpected delight to meet you."
I said my goodbyes and hurried out of the restaurant. The hostess sent a knowing little smirk after me, but I barely even noticed. Instead, my thoughts were filled with a swirl of different considerations, bouncing between the plan I'd so carefully worked out - and how Carlyle's smiling, slightly self-deprecating humor seemed to slip right through my defenses. And those blue eyes, how they'd sparkled at me!
If I'd stuck around much longer, I thought to myself, I might even have slipped enough to make a mistake on my plan.
Now that I was out of Carlyle's presence, however, I could feel my resolve returning, strengthening. The plan was on track, and soon, if things went well, I'd have the man's plans for his company in my hands - plans worth a fortune.
I wouldn't slip up again, I told myself.
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