distant. Impatience? Discomfort? He didn’t know but he found himself irritated rather than sympathetic. Hadn’t she taken the time to explain any of this to her lawyer? As far as he was concerned, Wayne was going over information everyone in the room should have known.
Thea stood abruptly. “Excuse me,” she said quietly. “I need—” She didn’t finish. Rounding the table quickly, she let herself out of the windowless conference room and into the hallway.
The silence didn’t last past the door being closed behind her. “What the hell?” Mitch asked, looking at Childers. “That question is for you, by the way.”
Wayne’s attempt to nudge Mitch under the table fell short of the mark. Leaning back in his chair, Wayne surreptitiously looked to see where Mitch had moved his feet. The next time he wouldn’t miss his target.
Avery Childers neatly squared off the documents in front of him, running his index finger along the side and bottom to even the stack. “Ms. Wyndham is not the enemy,” he said finally, looking up at Mitch. “Neither am I, for that matter, but if you’re going to try to intimidate one of us, save it for me. I’m paid handsomely to be impervious.”
“My client is not trying to intimidate anyone. For God’s sake, he’s a cartoonist. ”
Mitch smiled blandly and fought the urge to cup his balls to make sure they were still there. “Think Charles Schulz,” Wayne went on. Inspired, he added, “Or Cathy Guisewite.”
Avery wasn’t having any of it. “He’s a political cartoonist,” he said to Wayne. His tone made Mitch out to be the Antichrist, but it also gave him his balls back. “I’ve seen your work, Mr. Baker. In fact, I saw it in this morning’s Chronicle. If I were the speaker of the house, I’d want to sue your ass.”
“Careful, you’ll turn my head with compliments like that. Anyway, it was a good likeness. Flattering, I thought.”
“I was referring to the subject matter.”
“Aaah. The pissing contest.” Mitch’s rendering of the speaker pushing the minority whip out of the way to be first to register for a pissing contest was front and center on the editorial page. “You realize, of course, that in the tradition of the great Thomas Nast, it is symbolic of the struggle for power and suggests a manner in which the struggle could be ended, in what I like to think is a rather whimsical fashion.”
“I understood the symbolism,” Avery said dryly. “I missed the whimsy.”
Mitch sighed, feigning disappointment. “I can only hope that Newsweek doesn’t. I’m hoping they’ll pick it up for their Perspectives section.”
Avery pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and gave Mitch a level look. “Stop trying to intimidate my client, Mr. Baker. Wayne, if you can’t get him to stop staring at Ms. Wyndham like he’s measuring her for a noose, this meeting is going to be over when she steps back in here.”
“Look here, Avery, ” Wayne began, gloves off. “My client—” He stopped because out of the corner of his eye he saw Mitch’s small negative shake. He wasn’t entirely certain what Mitch was trying to communicate until he heard the door handle turn. Thea was just on the other side of the door. If Mitch had really been trying to intimidate Thea before, he was now trying to protect her. Wayne shot Avery a look that said, See?
Avery Childers rose slightly as Thea entered. She waved him back. “I apologize,” she said. “What have I missed?”
Mitch didn’t hear what was said in response, or who said it. His attention was riveted on Thea’s left hand, most particularly on the oval-cut diamond that had almost blinded him when she waved her attorney back in his chair. It took a measure of self-control not to blink. How had he missed it the first time? The diamond was the size of an ice cube. He wasn’t certain he could have looked away if Thea had not finally sat down and folded her hands primly in her lap. Mitch half expected to
Thea stood abruptly. “Excuse me,” she said quietly. “I need—” She didn’t finish. Rounding the table quickly, she let herself out of the windowless conference room and into the hallway.
The silence didn’t last past the door being closed behind her. “What the hell?” Mitch asked, looking at Childers. “That question is for you, by the way.”
Wayne’s attempt to nudge Mitch under the table fell short of the mark. Leaning back in his chair, Wayne surreptitiously looked to see where Mitch had moved his feet. The next time he wouldn’t miss his target.
Avery Childers neatly squared off the documents in front of him, running his index finger along the side and bottom to even the stack. “Ms. Wyndham is not the enemy,” he said finally, looking up at Mitch. “Neither am I, for that matter, but if you’re going to try to intimidate one of us, save it for me. I’m paid handsomely to be impervious.”
“My client is not trying to intimidate anyone. For God’s sake, he’s a cartoonist. ”
Mitch smiled blandly and fought the urge to cup his balls to make sure they were still there. “Think Charles Schulz,” Wayne went on. Inspired, he added, “Or Cathy Guisewite.”
Avery wasn’t having any of it. “He’s a political cartoonist,” he said to Wayne. His tone made Mitch out to be the Antichrist, but it also gave him his balls back. “I’ve seen your work, Mr. Baker. In fact, I saw it in this morning’s Chronicle. If I were the speaker of the house, I’d want to sue your ass.”
“Careful, you’ll turn my head with compliments like that. Anyway, it was a good likeness. Flattering, I thought.”
“I was referring to the subject matter.”
“Aaah. The pissing contest.” Mitch’s rendering of the speaker pushing the minority whip out of the way to be first to register for a pissing contest was front and center on the editorial page. “You realize, of course, that in the tradition of the great Thomas Nast, it is symbolic of the struggle for power and suggests a manner in which the struggle could be ended, in what I like to think is a rather whimsical fashion.”
“I understood the symbolism,” Avery said dryly. “I missed the whimsy.”
Mitch sighed, feigning disappointment. “I can only hope that Newsweek doesn’t. I’m hoping they’ll pick it up for their Perspectives section.”
Avery pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and gave Mitch a level look. “Stop trying to intimidate my client, Mr. Baker. Wayne, if you can’t get him to stop staring at Ms. Wyndham like he’s measuring her for a noose, this meeting is going to be over when she steps back in here.”
“Look here, Avery, ” Wayne began, gloves off. “My client—” He stopped because out of the corner of his eye he saw Mitch’s small negative shake. He wasn’t entirely certain what Mitch was trying to communicate until he heard the door handle turn. Thea was just on the other side of the door. If Mitch had really been trying to intimidate Thea before, he was now trying to protect her. Wayne shot Avery a look that said, See?
Avery Childers rose slightly as Thea entered. She waved him back. “I apologize,” she said. “What have I missed?”
Mitch didn’t hear what was said in response, or who said it. His attention was riveted on Thea’s left hand, most particularly on the oval-cut diamond that had almost blinded him when she waved her attorney back in his chair. It took a measure of self-control not to blink. How had he missed it the first time? The diamond was the size of an ice cube. He wasn’t certain he could have looked away if Thea had not finally sat down and folded her hands primly in her lap. Mitch half expected to
Similar Books
To Catch a Treat
Linda O. Johnston
Lorik The Protector (Lorik Trilogy)
Toby Neighbors
Hunting Wolf: Black Mesa Wolves #3
J.K. Harper
The Odin Mission
James Holland
Burial
Graham Masterton
Furyous Ink
Saranna DeWylde
Demonkeepers
Jessica Andersen
When Hell Freezes Over
Darrien Lee
