Chapter 8

“I only have forty-five minutes,” he continued. “We’re not too far away from each other. Shall we meet in the middle? Our choices are French, Italian or good ole American.”

“I’m up for anything,” she said faintly.

She propped the phone between her shoulder and her ear and began frantically digging for her notes on his account. She stuffed everything into a folder and reached for her bag.

“Great. Shall we meet in say five minutes? I’ll start out now.”

“Sure, meet you there.” She replied.

He hung up and for a moment she stood there like a moron, the phone still stuck to her ear. Then removed it from her ear, took in a deep steadying breath and declared battle

She could do this in her sleep. Slinging the bag over her shoulder, she all but jogged out of her office and down the hallway.

She passed Trevor Williams, Standard Gate’s CFO, who held up a finger and opened his mouth to say something to her.

“Not now, Trevor,” she called as she hus