Derek shook his hand again, handing him his suit jacket. “We’ll see you back here tonight about six, then.”
“See you then. Have a nice day, guys,” Markson said, heading for the door.
As the door closed behind him, Derek breathed a sigh of relief. Step two done. Now he hoped that Chatterton said something, anything of importance in this meeting.
“That guy’s a wreck,” CJ commented. “I hope he doesn’t crack before we get something we can use.”
That was Derek’s big fear as well.
“He’ll be fine,” Maddock scoffed. “Sure, he’s a little nervous, but he just agreed to record everything his boss says. That would make anybody a little nervous. Don’t go borrowing trouble, White.”
“And you shouldn’t go around acting like everything’s peachy keen all the time,” CJ shot back.
“Peachy keen?” Maddock let out a bark of laughter. “Yeah, that’s exactly the words I’d use to describe myself. Peachy keen. Shit.”
Derek started stuffing papers in his briefcase, adjusting his holster under his suit jacket. His stomach burned, his ulcer dumping anxiety acids into his gut.
“Juicy, juicy,” White said, her biting words baiting Maddock as she’d no doubt intended.
As Maddock spluttered and flushed and protested, Derek felt in his pocket for his antacids. As he popped two in his mouth, he realized between this case and Reese, he was going to need to buy more.
THIRTY-EIGHT
Easy as pie.That’s what it had been. First thing Monday morning, Reese had put in a phone call to Ashton Chatterton, dodging a few assistants along the way, before she had finally been put through to him directly.
Chatterton had recognized her name, he’d said, as the charming young woman he’d met at his son’s wedding.
After that, it had simply been a matter of explaining to him that she had lost her job, split from her fiancé, and was in dire straits. Did he have a job, anything, something horrible if need be, that she could do?
In discussing her fabricated qualifications, it had been mutually agreed upon that she should work as a personal assistant to the assistant to Chatterton’s assistant. Her responsibilities would include making copies, fetching coffee, and best of all, acting as a runner in all of Chatterton’s meetings.
If someone had a phone call or a message or needed a copy of something, or if the orange juice and muffins needed replenishing, she would be there to take care of it. Listening to every single word Chatterton and the Delco board were saying.
Starting today.
Knight would be amazed at her ingenuity. And possibly pissed off. But he would get over it.
She hoped.
This was her chance todosomething, instead of just waiting around hoping for Knight to toss her a bone every other week about the case.
With Phillip and Jeannie Chatterton off on their honeymoon, there wouldn’t be any reason for Ashton to discover that she wasn’t really Jeannie’s cousin. By the time the happy couple got back from the south of France, Ashton would be well on his way to being indicted.
At nine A.M., she was rubbing her hands on her thrice-worn suit, which was getting a little ripe, she had to admit. She was going to have to hit the mall and grab a few mix and match office items to wear.
She nodded. “Sure, I’ve got it. No problem.” Jennifer Magic, the assistant to Chatterton’s assistant, and her new boss, was looking at her sternly.
“Are you sure you can handle this? The gentlemen’s demands can come fast and furious in these meetings.”
What, like she couldn’t handle dumping coffee into their cups and fetching them markers to draw their dumb charts? She’d gone to college.
Piece of cake.
Two hours later she wanted to throttle every last idiot on the Delco board. If more one guy asked her for coffee prefaced by the term sweetie or honey, she was going to kick him.
This was why she’d never gone into food service. She hated people.
It didn’t escape her attention either that she was the only female in the room. There wasn’t a single female executive at Delco Pharmaceutical. At least none that were being included in this meeting.