"No problem. Hey, I'm sorry I've been so weird. Now that we're here, though, I really think you should know—"
He held up a hand. "It's okay. I know that you didn't have much time to prepare yourself for this. We don't even have to stay that long. Franco said he'd meet us in the gardens out back. Let's just meet with him, and then we can hop the fence and catch a movie."
She smiled her thousand-watt smile. "You've got yourself a deal."
They made their way through the crowd, and all the while Natalie was careful to scan the room. She'd occasionally mumble something about clients or the company, but there was something about the way she walked--in jerky, quick motions--that made him wonder.
Still, when they reached the silence of the gardens, she relaxed a little.
He hadn't seen her much in crowds. It was possible she was just one of those people who liked solitary conversations. Small groups.
It didn't seem to fit with the Natalie he knew, but he supposed it was possible.
They reached the Gazebo, and a huge Italian man sat there reading a newspaper and smoking a cigar. The smoke obscured his face slightly, but there was no denying who the mane of thick, dark hair belong to.
"Franco," Brooks said, "I'd like to—"
"Natalie!" Franco set his newspaper aside and rushed down the gazebo's wooden stairs so quickly that Brooks was sure he'd snap one of the boards. He stretched his massive arms out wide and then enveloped Natalie in what looked like a bone-crunching embrace.
Brooks waited as the hug went on for what felt like an hour too long. When the other man finally pulled away, he kissed Natalie on both cheeks, and then held her face between his hands.
"You're embarrassing me." She laughed.
Laughed. Like this was normal.
Like he touched her like that all the time.
Anger coiled in Brook's stomach, but he pushed it away. Franco was Italian. Maybe it was some kind of custom for men to grope women like that right in front of their dates.
"I could never embarrass you. You love me too much." Franco kissed her cheeks again as the anger snaked its way of Brooks' throat, burning his esophagus.
"Mr. Del Rossi, it's wonderful to see you again." He held out his hand, and though he knew his speech had sounded forced, it seemed to do the trick.
Franco took his hand and all the warmth he'd shown to Natalie disappeared in a split second.
"Mr. Adams. A pleasure. Thank you for meeting with me. Now, could we speak?" Franco led them into the tiny enclosure and they sat in a triangle with Natalie between them.
Oh, the metaphors of life.
He squared his shoulders and surveyed the man, then said, "Mr. Del Rossi, I'm sure you appreciate the difficulty of the situation."
"I do." He nodded, then glanced at Natalie again like he was looking for confirmation.
Or maybe it was just a look of admiration.
It was getting harder and harder to tell the difference.
Still, Brooks swallowed his venom and continued, "We have thousands of women in our data base, so before we're able to find likely candidates, we need to settle a few basic questions about the type of woman you're looking for."
Franco nodded. "Understood."
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Brooks cleared his throat, then grasped the piece of paper from his inside pocket and read from the list.
"Now, Franco, would you say that you like women who are more passive or aggressive?"
"In what way?" Franco smiled and Natalie let out a disgusted cough.