I don’t know how he managed it, but this schedule change has Matt’s fingerprints all over it. It doesn’t surprise me that he would try to find another way to take out the competition. He’s worried I’ll secure the LandStar deal, so he has to undermine me another way. Joke’s on him because I currently don’t see a way of making my client happy. All his shady tactics will have been for nothing.
Jeannie glances up from her computer screen with a bright smile when I arrive. “Good morning, Charlie. Glad to hear it.”
I give her a quizzical look. “Glad to hear what?”
“That you’re happy.”
“Am I?”
She points to my face. “They say you can tell when a lawyer’s lying when his lips are moving, but they don’t say anything about his forehead.”
Now I’m thoroughly confused. “I have no clue what you’re talking about.”
“In that case, you might want to take a look in a mirror. Your meeting starts in five minutes, by the way. I don’t recommend walking in like that.”
I hurry to my office and shut the door, whipping out my phone for the camera. Across my forehead in bright purple marker is a single word.
Happy.
It takes a second for the memory of last night to snap into focus. A purple Sharpie. A mischievous gleam in Cricket’s eye. I’d been too drunk to remember it by the time I reached the cabin. The ink was apparently strong enough to withstand good old-fashioned soap and water.
Shit.
I rub the ink, which I know is a futile gesture, but I have to try. No way can I walk into the meeting looking like I slept in a frat house.
Jeannie appears at my door holding a bottle of nail polish remover and a cotton ball.
“You’re a lifesaver.”
“Whatever you did last night, you should do it more often.”
“Really? My body feels like I walked through a cheese grater.”
“Well, your spirit says you’re walking on air.”
“Thanks, Jeannie. I needed the pep talk.” Especially before entering the lion’s den.
“It wasn’t a pep talk,” she calls after me, but I am already gone.
The meeting is dull but necessary. The saving grace is the selection of bagels and pastries that save me from hunger pains. I smear cream cheese on a bagel and down two cups of coffee to keep myself awake, both from the hangover and the meeting itself.
Riggieri nods in my direction, and I can tell he’s desperate to jump me for an update the second the meeting is adjourned. Matt knows I have nothing to offer the client, which is why he somehow managed to orchestrate this early reunion. Lyman shouldn’t even be in attendance, let alone allowed to influence a change in the schedule. If I had a purple Sharpie, I’d write ‘pissed’ across my forehead this time.
Relief floods my system when the meeting comes to its merciful conclusion. As expected, Riggieri and Joel intercept me before I can exit the conference room.
“Hey, Thorpe. How’s geek week?” Joel asks. “Mr. Riggieri mentioned before the meeting that he hopes you brought a signed contract with you today.”
“I’m working on it, sir.”
Riggieri doesn’t bother to disguise his disappointment. “Well, what have you found so far? There’s got to be something damning.”
“Everything appears in order so far, but there’s a filing cabinet I haven’t been through.” It isn’t a lie. Cricket’s office only appears to hold one filing cabinet and I haven’t combed through it.
“Then what are you waiting for? Get back up there and find my leverage, kid.”
Joel snorts his derision. “Who are all these adults with enough time on their hands to attend summer camp, am I right?”
But Riggieri is no longer interested in our conversation. He exits the conference room without another word.
