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"Irish?" I ask as I pick up the card and read it. There's a hint of a smile curving my black, glossy lips. This sounded like a challenge, and possibly fun. The sort of thing I'd made my name on.
"And... anything else to go on?" I add, then shrug in apology. "So I'm not duplicating work." The words come out softly, almost hesitantly; it's definitely not a condemnation.
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Harry kicks his legs up onto another chair, stretches, and shrugs. "Anything else? Not really. I've been to his suite a few times but we always meet in a conference room. Receptionist up front, probably an office in the back, sec detail on site but I don't have any details. I'd guess you're looking at up-to-date systems but not state of the art."
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I nod, and consider the job. Part of me wants to ask what the payout is, but the truth is, when it's done, they'll pay me. If I'm happy, we'll keep the arrangement; if not, Azalea Sanders will disappear.
"Is there a time frame on this?" I ask, looking up from the desk at Slick. I'm not great at reading people, but it's the answer that will tell me what I need to know. A simple client list shouldn't have a clock ticking on it -- but if they need the information for something else they're doing, it might.
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Harry waves a hand in dismissal. "Well some time before the New Year would be nice," he says, "But that's just because I don't want to be pullin' my pud until spring comes around." There's no urgency in his voice or posture.
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That almost gets a laugh, and my amusement probably shows in my eyes. It's not the answer, but I'm beginning to wonder if this man can make any sort of conversation without sexual reference. Maybe he was military -- I've heard they're like that.
"OK," I agree, and straighten, as if to stand.
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Harry stands up, wiping his hands with a napkin before offering one to Z. "Well. Welcome aboard, glad to have you, all that." He takes her hand and gives it a shake, and a little something more--he palms a card into her grip. "You give us a call, if you need anything." He picks up the remains of his mango and his knife and pads out of the office. A few seconds later she can hear his whistle fading down the hall--she can't identify the tune but it's something in the key of Off.
The card is ivory stock, unadorned with any logos or frippery.
WALLIS ENGINEERINGOne meeting and she comes away with two cards. Quite a collection she's starting up. Daddy would be so proud.
H. HARRY HEURDON
619-555-5555
Wells Fargo Tower
Suite 1301
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I can feel a piercing tug as my brows furrow in concentration, then a small smile slips out as I shake the offered hand. "Talk hard and steal the air," I offer with an amused tone.
I mean, look at me. Of course I've seen the movie. I'm waving my goddamn plastic fork in the cafeteria.
The card disappears into my pocket, and I shoulder my bag before leaving in a symphony of leather and boot thumps.
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