Chapter 5 #2
Marina bit her lip. Ask River out again, knowing how different they were?
Or accept a strange acquaintanceship? “Likewise.” She tipped her drink at Audrey, who was busy eating a taco like she’d been starved for the last decade.
Audrey gave a quick nod and took an even bigger bite, never breaking eye contact. “See you around.”
River nodded, her hands stuffed in her pockets, as Marina walked away.
When she glanced over her shoulder, River had moved back behind the tables and was eating as well.
Okay, she’d been hoping that River would still be watching her walk away, like she had the other night.
That was stupid, especially since she wasn’t interested in having to keep talking about metaphysical things she found childish at best and maliciously taking advantage of needy people at worst.
She crossed the street and headed back to work. Time to get her head in the game. She had a promotion to earn.
“It’s so nice to meet you,” Marina said, holding out her hand and receiving the barest touch of Sheila Black’s hand in return. “I’m a huge fan of all you’ve accomplished.”
“I don’t need a fan. I need an attorney to help me build my empire.” Sheila’s razor sharp smile had likely been honed on the bones of her defeated enemies.
Marina followed Sheila and Montgomery to a table and gathered her thoughts. Her stomach gurgled, and she could only hope the noise of the restaurant hid it.
“Marina is our best. Her last case was practically unwinnable, but she pulled it out of the bag. Her win rate overall speaks for itself,” Montgomery said as he read the wine list. “I wouldn’t have put you in just anyone’s hands, Sheila.”
Marina nearly missed it, but there was no question Sheila gave her a quick once-over before returning to her menu.
Interesting. Lesbian? Or does she just like my suit?
There’d been nothing at all in her research that mentioned a partner of any kind.
All knowledge could give you an edge you could use later.
“I’m going to cut to the chase, Marina.” Sheila set her menu down and looked intently across the table. “I’m going to be making purchases in the areas surrounding the Loop. I’m expecting pushback, but as you know from your research, I’m not one to back down.”
Marina nodded. “I’m aware. Your gentrification projects along the East Coast have caused plenty of sensation, but at a market value of thirty-seven billion, Black Pinnacle has the resources to make sure nothing gets in your way.”
“Money is only part of it.” Sheila stopped when the waiter came to take their order.
Marina caught her breath as her stomach gurgled and cramped. It passed, and she breathed again. What the fuck? She refocused on what Sheila was saying.
“I use that money to create a team of people who will stop at nothing to get the job done. People at the top of their game who are still hungry for bigger challenges and to be part of leaving something of importance behind. A better, cleaner, more genteel world.”
Marina could argue that the people in the background wouldn’t be remembered in that kind of legacy, but she had a feeling it wouldn’t be appreciated. Her stomach cramped again, and this time she gasped and put her hand over it.
“Are you okay, Marina?” Montgomery asked, his bushy eyebrows drawn to each other like cold caterpillars.
“I’m fine. Sorry. I made the mistake of grabbing lunch at the harvest festival today. I don’t think it agreed with me.” She shook her head and smiled weakly as the pain passed. “I’m fine, really. Please go on.”
Sheila looked a little put out at having been interrupted.
“Yes. And your discomfort is exactly the reason I try to gentrify neighborhoods. People selling food out of trucks? That isn’t sanitary, nor is it seemly to have people walking around stuffing their faces with fried food that dribbles down their shirts.
We should have clean, elegant cities full of culture and grace. ”
The words smacked of a snobbery that even Marina was uncomfortable with. “People do like their festivals, though.”
Sheila gave a little shrug. “Of course. And they can still have them. But in places specially built for that kind of thing, where it’s contained and can be monitored.
Like in Elm Grove, for instance. After we leveled the despicable old housing and built some gorgeous new condos, we also built a food hall like some of those in London, England.
Vendors come in, and people still get their festival. But it’s a lovely, civil experience.”
The child in Marina, who’d grown up in a neighborhood that used festival times to reconnect, rebelled at the idea. The adult attorney with a promotion on the table simply nodded. “I understand.”
The stomach cramp hit so hard, Marina jerked forward.
A clammy sweat broke out on her face and back as she realized what was about to happen.
“I’m terribly sorry. Please excuse me.” She stood, clenching her butt cheeks together as she tried her best to walk quickly but with poise toward the bathroom.
Sweat dripped down her back, and her eyes watered.
She nearly wept when she managed to make it into a stall and her guts exploded.
Her vision went blurry for a moment as everything she’d ever ingested seemed to come out of her.
Everything…that fucking smoothie. That’s what River had been trying to tell her.
It was an actual cleanse. Her stomach cramped and released, cramped and released.
The door to the bathroom opened, and she heard someone exclaim and leave again.
Tears filled her eyes. Of all nights. This is what I get for taking the time off to flirt and eat.
Sheila’s idea of banning food trucks seemed like an excellent one now.
Eventually, the cramping stopped and she could breathe again.
She flushed and flushed and flushed again, mortified at having had this happen not only in a public place, but at one of the nicest restaurants in the city.
If Sheila had come in, she’d have decided on the spot that Marina wasn’t the elegant, genteel go-getter she needed.
No one wanted an attorney who shit themselves stupid in an important moment.
Her hands shaking, she went to the sink and ran cold water over them, then wet a towel and dabbed at the back of her neck too.
If her makeup hadn’t taken half an hour to get just right, she’d have splashed water on her face too.
She exited the restroom to find a member of staff waiting outside, a small bucket of cleaning supplies sitting discreetly behind their feet.
The glare they shot Marina would have wilted a cactus, and she could only give a quick apologetic smile as mortification made her want to crawl into that bucket.
When she made it back to the table, Montgomery and Sheila were already finishing their meals. He looked up as she sat down. “Everything okay, Marina? I had them take your food back to keep it warm.”
She nodded and took a sip of water. “Your concern about food trucks is clearly warranted, Sheila. My apologies for having to disappear that way.”
“Things happen.” Sheila’s tone suggested that those things did not, in fact, happen and should most definitely not happen in the future. “We can discuss things further with dessert.” She tilted her head. “If you’re sticking around for that?”
Marina winced internally. “Of course. It’s the best part of any meal. Aside from the company, of course.”
“Of course.” Montgomery nodded and pushed his empty plate away. “Do you want me to get them to bring your main course, Marina?”
Her stomach clenched. “No!” She laughed a little, trying to cover the outburst. “No, thank you. I’ll stick with dessert.”
The rest of the evening was elitist torture.
Marina listened to Montgomery and Sheila talk about vacations their families had taken together in Spain and Greece, and they discussed the hardships of being someone who had wealth in this part of the twenty-first century.
Marina made the right noises and responses but kept her input to a minimum despite the amount of research she’d done to work her way into Sheila’s good graces.
That seemed like exactly the right thing to do, and they didn’t seem at all bothered at her lack of participation.
“It was nice to meet you, Marina, and I’m looking forward to working with you.” Sheila allowed Montgomery to help her on with her Burberry coat and kissed him on the cheek. “I’ll see you at the races next week.”
She climbed into her cab, and Montgomery turned to Marina. “Nicely saved. This is your ass on the line, Marina. No pun intended. Don’t mess it up.”
He got into a cab, and it pulled away, leaving her standing on the sidewalk, incredibly glad they were gone.
She headed for the L train and by the time she walked into her apartment, she was near tears with exhaustion and dehydration.
She grabbed a bottle of water and then started a bath.
She lit some candles and slid into the hot water with a deep sigh of relief. Chakra cleanse.
She groaned and slid deeper into the water. River had tried to warn her. She’d asked if she had regrets. At this moment in time, she had a few. She reached out and grabbed her phone off the table.
You could have tried harder to warn me. I’m banned from every restaurant in the Loop now. She waited for a response and was glad to see that River was typing.
River: You’re a woman who knows what she wants. Now you know what you don’t want too. Hope you’re okay.
Marina smiled. Nothing a hot bath and sleep won’t fix. Night.
River: Night.
She wanted to say more, but she wasn’t a teenager with a crush.
A distraction like River…well, like any woman, right now could cost her the focus and drive she’d need to work with Sheila Black.
But as she lay in the water and her muscles relaxed, she had to admit it was awfully nice to be looked at the way River looked at her.
And it was nice to have someone to text at the end of a long and mortifying day.
If only she had the kind of life where that was part of her plan.