Norbert Pascal is an enigma. He doesn’t take calls. There is no known method of contacting him.
I pride myself on finding facts and information that are not easily accessible. Still, after months of sleuthing, the only thing I found out was that he comes to this place.
I hope he’s here tonight. Tomorrow, I have a long-awaited meeting with Corm.
I joined Merged as the girl for everything, right when they started. Before we staffed and opened the office in downtown Manhattan, Corm already recognized my added value and promoted me to office manager.
Merged has three partners at the moment, and all of them respect me. They all supported me when I decided to get an MBA—something my father doesn’t know about, to prevent his heart attack. His belief in female education extends to the kitchen and childbearing.
I worked extra hard and finished the program in half the time. And now I’m being considered for a partnership.
I’m certain they would give me a small share. But a small share is not what I’m after. I want to be considered for the twenty percent that is currently at play.
I don’t want a consolation prize. I want a legitimate seat at the table. Not as a note-taker. As a decision-maker.
I might lack experience, but I make up for it with my drive, and the partners know me and have relied on me in many situations. Our clients respect me as well.
I deserve the seat.
I know, however, that they might be talking to other people. Probably men. I don’t yet have confirmation.
It’s strange not to be privy to a crucial deliberation at Merged. I’m the person who knows everything. Sometimes, I even anticipate it before it happens.
But not being a part of the conversation means I’m being discussed, and that’s a good sign. Still, I’m taking my potential competition seriously, tapping into my insider knowledge.
Getting Corm in touch with Pascal would definitely make him indebted to me. Or I would blackmail him with that information.
He is obsessed with the idea of Pascal designing Saar’s birthday present. I’m not above taking advantage of that.
The only problem? I might have gotten this close, but I’m still not sure if I can get what I came for.
I grab the neckline of my strapless dress and pull it up to stop my cleavage from spilling out.
The bartender wipes the counter around me. “That’s another giveaway. People here usually can’t wait to take their clothes off, and you struggle to cover yourself up.”
My shoulders sag. “Okay, I came here to find someone.”
“Doesn’t everyone?”She winks.
I snort. “Not in that sense. I need to talk to someone who frequents this place.”
She frowns, assessing me. “Anonymity is extremely valued here.”
“I didn’t know about the masks.”
“Yet, you knew someone comes here often. Are you planning a jealousy scene?”
She hasn’t changed her warm demeanor, but she purses her lips, observing me with suspicion now.
I laugh. “It’s strictly business.”
She studies me for a moment before a corner of her lips curves up. “How do you plan to find him? Or is it her?”
“I got this far, but I don’t really know, to be honest.”
She chews on her lip, and then looks over her shoulder where her colleague is in conversation with another customer. “Maybe I can help you.” She lowers her voice.
For the first time since I arrived, my shoulders relax. I reach into my clutch and slide my hand over the polished wood, a fifty under my palm. “I hope this lifts some of the anonymity veil. I promise I’ll be extremely discreet.”
