One Night Wife (The Confidence Game 1)

“It’s the art of rubbing the belly of a fish, lulling it into a stupor, and then grabbing it for dinner.” If you tickled Cal’s soft spot for Fin, he’d have to fight not to roll over and let her do anything she wanted to him. “Right, now we flesh out your noodle,” Cal said, hiding his pleasure behind his coffee cup.”

“He’s being a dick, he means your pitch,” said Zeke.

Fin gave an exaggerated eye roll that moved her whole head. “No starting with a W word.”

“Or a question, or a sales spiel about the charity,” said Zeke. “And no statistics.”

“What do I say?”

“Start with flattery,” said Cal. That was what you did when you’d narrowed in on your mark and you knew how to make him preen. “An ego stroke.”

“Meaning I tell them how wonderful they are.” Fin frowned. “Compliment them, on what?”

“Watch this.” Cal swung his chair to face Zeke. “You’re selling. I’m some fat cat with a giant ego. Sway me.”

Fin interrupted. “But he doesn’t know anything about—”

Zeke put a hand up. “I know everything I need to know”—he pointed at Cal—“about Mr. Dickhead Fat Cat.” He cleared his throat dramatically. “Cal, heard you shot seventy-two at Winged Foot on the weekend. Superb job, man. Did you ever think of turning pro?”

“It was a good day.” Cal gave a dismissive hand wave. Next up, Zeke would as for a favor and the con would be live.

“You know I’d love to play there. Fantastic course, very difficult I’ve heard, but I’m not a member. Is there any way I could convince you to sign me in for a round?”

And there it was. “Any weekend you want to play, I’d be happy to sign you in.”

“That would make my year.” And now came the Rope. “You know, you’re a big charity supporter. I wanted to ask you a question about your philosophy. You see, I’ve started a charity. It’s this women’s thing.”

Fin bounced in her chair. “Women’s thing.”

Cal gave her a look that said behave.

Zeke cut back in. “I’m only getting started, and it’s quite a new idea.” That was the Tale and in a long con, that phase could go on for quite some time. “I’d love to have your thoughts.”

Cal strung some words together that sounded like he had thoughts and tried not to laugh at Fin’s befuddled expression. It didn’t matter what he said, Zeke would flatter him.

“I see that makes a lot of sense. Genius. I need to approach some potential donors. Can you think of anyone who’s not already organized like you are?”

“I’d be pleased to give you something.”

And now for the Convincer.

“Oh, no, I wouldn’t ask you. You’ve got your own charity. I wouldn’t want to steal your focus away, but I’d be grateful for any guidance you had.”

“But I’d be happy to donate.”

“No, no. That’s too kind. I couldn’t take your money.”

“What’s wrong with my money?”

Zeke laughed. “Nothing, but I don’t want to bother you.”

Cal said, “But I insist,” and then said to Fin, “That’s part one.”

She pulled at an earlobe as if she’d had trouble hearing. “I don’t understand what happened there.”

“Zeke flattered me about my golf game, and then he asked me for something insignificant that made me feel benevolent. Then he flattered me again by asking for advice.”

“But then he tried to stop you donating.”