Love on the Dotted Line by David E. Talbert

Author:David E. Talbert
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Simon & Schuster
Published: 2005-07-15T00:00:00+00:00

Twenty-One

FOR ALMOST that entire night I meditated on Andre’s added value advice and what I could do to differentiate myself. To even further distance myself from the pack of his past or the lack of his present. Shortly after we met, I remembered he mentioned needing to adjust his warrantee contracts to stay competitive with current market standards. Since that specific area wasn’t my specialty, I just listened, deciding not to pry. But given my most recent conversation with Andre, this might be just the added value added.

That night, after yet another late-night session with Michael and the Monroe case, I called ol’ faithful—I called in Altima. As usual, she arrived with brown bags filled with tin pans, Tupperware bowls, biscuits, cakes, pies, and every other edible delight, as together we began downloading miles of files, researching the automobile industry. For the next several nights it was a crash course in the world of cars.

“Girl, do you want to learn about preowned dealerships or open one of your own?” Altima asked. For even more nights we continued, only taking a break for an occasional sidebar gossip session about what was going on in the firm. Who was hiring who, firing who. What new cases and clients were circling about. Altima convinced me that the Monroe case was still top priority at the firm and all eyes were still on Michael and me and our ability to quench the fires of what had the potential of igniting a political firestorm throughout the city. Michael was depending on me and even though I was burning the candle at both ends, still I was sharp, on point, and all signs seemed to point to the fact that he was more than pleased with my performance.

Now with more than enough research on the automobile industry, I gave Charles a call and set up a time to stop by the dealership. As was the case lately, he was overly busy, which signaled to me that he was underly interested. Still, I pushed forward and made a surprise visit. Looking by absolute best, of course.

“Hey,” he said, leaning over and kissing me on the lips and then walking away as I stood there for a moment, marinating in my pensive feelings. “I’m glad you stopped by; I’m in the middle of inventory getting ready in two weeks for my biggest shipment ever. You remember my friend Pierre who you met in Paris?” he asked, as he almost never took his eyes off of his paperwork.

“How could I forget?” I responded. “He was with that very beautiful Frenchwoman in the blue-green scarf.”

“Wow,” he said, “you remembered what she had on? Anyway, we closed the deal and he’s exporting five hundred of his finest low-mileage preowned luxury cars. So, we’re in the process of clearing out the old and making room for the new.”

“That’s good news, right? You should do well.”

“Oh, we’ll do well. We’ll probably have a line wrapped around the block, full of people who can’t wait to get into the cars.

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