Thirst (The Calvettis of New York 1)

I know it. The two people seated on either side of me know it too.

I just locked down a potential deal with the owner of a dog-grooming product.

Pets aren’t part of my day-to-day life. I can’t keep a plant alive in my apartment, so I have no place taking on the care of a dog, cat or even a goldfish.

Benefitting from the devotion others have to their pets is my place. I fought hard with Rhoda to land the deal, but ultimately my offer to take the product to a contact that is the purchasing manager of a nationwide pet store tipped the scales in my direction.

“How many more?” Glenn whispers under his breath.

Lenore glances at the closed door before her gaze drops to a sheet of paper in her hands.

We generally do this at Glenn’s office, but today is an exception.

Lenore invited more than twenty people to attend this session.

That’s why we’re in a rented space on Park Avenue with a waiting room that’s three times the size of this conference room.

“He was the seventeenth, so only three more,” Lenore says. “You have a five-minute potty break if you need it.”

I don’t need it, but I could use a leg stretch.

I push back from the table, adjusting the buckle of the black belt I’m wearing. I put on gray slacks and a white button-down shirt this morning. I rolled the sleeves of the shirt up to my elbows two hours ago.

Whenever we head into the homestretch of these sessions, I get restless.

Most of my days are spent on the move, visiting the offices and businesses of the people I’ve partnered with. Being in one place for endless hours isn’t interesting to me.

I’m ready to call it a day and leave Glenn and Rhoda to consider the next three pitches on their own, but I’ll kick my own ass if I miss out on something promising.

“Where do you think you’re going, handsome?” Rhoda’s hand lands on my arm.

I pat her fingers gently. “Not far. I need to take a walk.”

“I’ll come.” She stands in a rush. “I don’t want you influencing the people who are still waiting with your charm and good looks.”

I laugh aloud. “I promise I’ll keep my eyes on you, Rhoda, if you do the same.”

She gives me the once over. “That’s a promise I’ll gladly keep.”

“I’m coming too,” Glenn pipes up. “I don’t want anyone having an advantage over me when it comes to the last three pitches.”

***

I kept up my end of the bargain when we left the conference room. I only glanced briefly at the people preparing to present their proposals to us.

Lenore said there were only three pitches left, but the waiting room was packed with a group of at least two dozen men and women wearing bright orange T-shirts.

Rhoda stopped to talk to someone she recognized, but I kept my head down. I hit the coffee room to grab a bottle of water before I circled back and headed straight into the conference room.

Lenore tried to convince me to eat one of the sandwiches she had brought in hours earlier, but I passed.

I’ll finish this out and then drop by Calvetti’s to see Marti. A plate of pasta will be in front of me ten minutes after I arrive there.

I watch as the group wearing the eye-searing neon orange shirts file in. They’re carrying camping equipment which means Rhoda is the only one who is going to find this interesting. Her connection to the leader of the pack, a guy in his early twenties with bright blue eyes and a grin from ear-to-ear, guarantees that they have a good shot of leaving here with her on board.

Rhoda invests from the heart. If a pitch sparks emotion in her, she’ll pursue a deal even if they don’t always work out once her financial advisor has had a chance to look at the numbers.

I try to zone out the long-winded pitch about a new brand of camping gear designed to fit in the back of a compact car.