Mad, Bad and Blonde - Cathie Linz [33]
“You could say that,” Caine said while Faith was saying, “Not really.”
Mr. Kneeson just laughed. “Okay then. Let’s get lunch, shall we?”
They were quickly seated at the restaurant on the lobby level. Faith ordered the Amish Chicken Club Waldorf sandwich, while Caine and Mr. Kneeson both ordered the Diablo Burger.
Whenever she attempted to bring up the reasons why West Investigations was the best choice for Thompson and Associates, Caine was right there to distract Mr. Kneeson. The food, especially the truffled potato chips, was delicious, but the company was turning out to be extremely frustrating.
“Excuse me a minute,” Mr. Kneeson said, glancing down at his BlackBerry. “I’ve got to take this call.” He stood and moved to a quieter corner to speak.
Faith glared at Caine. “Stop trying to sabotage my business lunch.”
“It’s not your lunch.”
“You’re monopolizing the conversation.”
“You’re just angry because you’re losing.”
“I am not losing. Losing patience maybe, but not losing my cool or losing this client.”
“He isn’t your client yet.”
“He will be.”
“You sound pretty confident about that.”
“I am confident.”
“Then you shouldn’t be afraid that I’ll get Mr. Kneeson to go with King and not West.”
She eyed him suspiciously. “Did you somehow arrange this? For him to get a flat tire?”
“You’ve really got a vivid imagination. Is that because you’re a librarian?”
“A former librarian.”
“Right.”
“You won’t win.”
He just smiled. “We’ll see.”
She smiled back, even as she gritted her teeth. “Yes, we will.”
“Sorry about that,” Mr. Kneeson said as he returned. “Where were we?”
“I was about to tell you why someone smart enough to be a White Sox fan like yourself would want to choose West Investigations for your firm.”
“How did you know I’m a White Sox fan?”
She pointed to his BlackBerry screen with the Sox logo. Then pointed to her own screen with a matching logo.
“Do you have some of the ball players as clients?”
Faith smiled discreetly. “You know I can’t answer that question. He’s a Cubs fan.” She nodded toward Caine. “You know what that means.”
Mr. Kneeson nodded. “That his team is going to lose again.”
She nodded too. “The sports franchise that’s gone the longest without a championship. And that’s not just in baseball, that’s all the sports combined. When did the Cubs last win the World Series? Was it 1904?”
Now Caine was the one gritting his teeth. “No, it was 1908.”
She and Mr. Kneeson exchanged a knowing look.
Talk about a momentum shift. Things were totally going Faith’s way now as she and Mr. Kneeson talked baseball—recent games and the bullpen, pitching stats and RBIs.
Caine called the server over. “I’ll take the check now.”
“It’s already been taken care of by the young lady,” the server said.
Faith just smiled. She’d cornered the server earlier and made the payment arrangements with the corporate credit card.
“I hate to eat and run,” Mr. Kneeson said, “but I’ve got to get to that workshop I told you about. Caine, it was great meeting you. Faith, get the paperwork to my assistant Linda, and we’ll get things wrapped up.”
Faith waited until Mr. Kneeson was out of sight before punching a fist into the air. “Yes!” She’d done pretty damn well for only her second day on the job.
“That was dirty, bringing in the Cubs that way. Is nothing sacred?”
“Hey, there’s no crying in baseball,” she countered, quoting the movie A League of Their Own.
“No crying in the Marine Corps either,” he said.
“Yeah, I figured.”
“So how did you know I was a Cubs fan?”
“I went through your wallet, remember.”
“Right. In Italy. You saw my season ticket stubs, right?”
She nodded and shifted uneasily. Why did she have to go and bring up Italy? The moment of strained silence seemed to last forever. “Well, I uh . . . I have to get back to the office.”
“You know, Sunshine, we could have been a great team, had circumstances been different.”
But circumstances weren’t different, and she’d be wise not to forget that. More stood between Caine