Now, I don’t know crap about wine, but my people tell me it’s a
first-rate collection, not that I intend on collecting. Where I come
from, you collect stamps. This stuff you drink.” He held up a glass for
her.
“I really don’t think–”
“I hare to drink alone. Makes me think I’m the only one having fun.
Besides, it worked for you on the plane, right?”
She finally nodded, slowly removed her coat and took the glass from him.
The room was soothingly warm, but she remained on her guard; it was SOP
when in the vicinity of active volcanoes and people like Nathan Gamble.
She sat down at the dinner table and eyed him while he started eating.
He looked at her and motioned at the food. “You sure you’re not
interested?”
She held up her glass. “This is fine, thanks.”
He shrugged, gulped his wine and then proceeded to slice up a hefty
piece of steak. “I talked to Henry Wharton recently. Nice guy, always
looking out for his people. I appreciate that in an employer.
I look out for my people too.” He sopped gravy onto a roll and bit a
chunk off.
“Henry has been a wonderful mentor to me.”
“That’s interesting. I never had a mentor, coming up. That might’re
been nice.” He chuckled lightly.
Sidney glanced around the elegant room. “It doesn’t look like it hurt
you any.”
Gamble raised his wineglass, tapped it to hers and then resumed eating.
“You holding up? You look like you’ve lost some weight from the last
time I saw you.”
“I’m doing okay. Thanks for asking.” She flicked at her hair while
watching him carefully, trying to keep her nerves in check. She was
waiting for the inevitable moment when the small talk would abruptly
end. She would have preferred to have gotten right down to business.
Gamble was merely playing with her. She had seen him do it dozens of
times with other people.
Gamble poured himself another glass of wine and despite her protests, he
topped off Sidney’s glass. Twenty minutes of innocuous conversation
later, Gamble wiped off his mouth with his napkin, stood up and led
Sidney over to an oversized leather sofa in front of the fire. She sat
down and crossed her legs and took an invisible deep breath. He
remained standing by the fireplace mantel and looked at her from under
hooded eyelids.
She studied the fire for a moment, sipped the wine and then looked up at
him. If he wasn’t going to start, she decided she would.
“I spoke with Henry too, apparently soon after you did.”
Gamble nodded absently. “I thought Henry might give you a buzz after
our little talk.” Underneath her opaque exterior, Sidney felt herself
growing angry at how Gamble manipulated and bullied people to get what
he wanted. Gamble produced a cigar from a humidor perched on the
mantel. “You mind?”
“As I said, it’s your house.”
“Some people say cigars aren’t habit-forming; I’m not so sure about
that. You have to die from something, right?”
She took another sip of wine. “Lucas said you wanted to meet. I’m not
privy to the agenda, so would you like to begin?”
Gamble took several short puffs on his cigar to get it going before
answering. “You lied to me on the plane, didn’t you?” His tone was not
one of anger, which surprised her. If anything, she had assumed that a
man like Nathan Gamble would have exhibited unbridled fury at such an
offense.
“I wasn’t completely truthful, no.”
A faint twitch moved across Gamble’s features. “You’re so damned
pretty, I keep forgetting you’re an attorney. I guess there’s a
difference between lying and not being completely truthful, although,
frankly, I’m not all that interested in the distinction. You lied to
me, that’s all I’m going to remember.”
“I can understand that.”
“Why was your husband on that plane?” The question shot out of Gamble’s
mouth, but his features remained impassive as he stared at her.
Sidney hesitated, then decided to answer fully. It was going to come
out at some point. “Jason told me he had been offered an executive
position at another technology company based in Los Angeles.