Bennie entered the restaurant, relieved to step into air-conditioning after the walk from the office. She’d emailed Nate to talk to him about Mary’s case, but he was in the city and suggested they do it over drinks. She’d agreed, only because she could pitch it better in person, so she hadn’t sent him the complaint. She could only hope he wouldn’t throw a fit, but Vetri’s was one of the city’s best restaurants. The air smelled like fresh basil and expense accounts.
The maître d’ wasn’t at the front, but she spotted Nate waving to her from the right, so she threaded her way through the tables, which were filled. The dining room was small but had a cozy Italian country vibe with sunflower-yellow walls and rustic tables. She had no idea how Nate had gotten the reservation so quickly, but that was a perk of being the CEO of a company that owned twenty-six subs that occasionally made bad decisions.
Bennie organized her thoughts as she approached the table. She had read Mary’s complaint, and the case was a loser with considerable exposure, which was why she had agreed to this folly. It was hardly the way she would have done business, but she was also thinking about what Sam had said, that she hadto try and get along with her new partner. Still, compromising didn’t come naturally to her and she had no idea how people did it. But then again, that’s probably why she had few friends and never married. She used to think of herself as undefeated, but lately she was less sure.
“Hey, Nate,” Bennie said, sitting down opposite him. Nate was tall and handsome in a rich-guy way, with a costly layered haircut that minimized the length of his face, regular grooming that kept his eyebrows separate, and an unshaven look intended to make him look rugged when he was anything but. His best feature was his intense green-blue eyes, and he usually wore either green or blue to set them off. Like tonight, he had on a light blue linen jacket with a cream colored T-shirt and jeans. He never had problems getting women, just keeping them.
“So good to see you, Bennie. I ordered you a Tanqueray and tonic.”
“Thanks.” Bennie wasn’t surprised that he remembered her drink. They’d dated briefly after his second divorce but she’d cut it off, since they weren’t a good match and she needed a client more than a lover.
“I was surprised when you emailed. To what do I owe the honor?”
“It’s a case that involves OpenSpace.”
Nate mock-pouted. “Straight to business.”
“You know me.”
“So you’re still seeing whatever his name is.”
“Yes. Declan Mitchell.”
“I stalked him online. Solo practitioner in Middle-of-Nowhere, Pennsylvania. Former state police officer, mounted division. Ruggedly handsome, married to his horse. He’s not good enough for you.”
“That’s quite enough.” Bennie didn’t smile.
“You think I’m a snob.”
“I know you are,” Bennie shot back as the waiter came over, served her drink, then placed a wineglass in front of Nate, uncorked the bottle, and poured some.
“Thank you.” Nate swirled the wine around the glass, sniffed it, then took a thoughtful sip, by which time Bennie was out of patience.
“Surprise, it’s wine!”
“Do you always have to bust me?” Nate smiled crookedly, setting down the glass. A maroon stain covered part of his upper lip.
“Yes, because you make it so easy.”
“I could educate you on this Beaujolais. I’d be happy to, and you might learn something.”
The waiter interjected, “Mr. Lence knows his wines.”
Bennie smiled. “Mr. Lence knows everything.”
“On that we agree.” Nate motioned to the waiter. “Please, pour the rest before she emasculates me completely. It won’t be pretty.”
“Certainly, Mr. Lence.” The waiter poured generously, then made himself scarce.
Bennie leaned over the table. “Nate, take a big gulp because you’re going to need it.”
“What’s up?”
“My partner, Mary DiNunzio, got a case this morning from a sales rep who was fired by the sales manager at OpenSpace. She took the meeting because she didn’t know I represented Dumbarton.”
“She took the meeting without a conflicts check?”
“Yes, and you can understand that. It was an honest mistake. That happens.”
