Page 71 of Playmaker

“Nice to meet you—may I call you Callie?”

“Of course, sir,” I agreed as I shook Preston’s hand.

He gripped it just a little too tightly.Used to demonstrating dominance through greeting rituals.“Call me Preston. We aren’t formal here.”

I kept my snort inside.Not formal, my ass.We were dressed like we were going to a photo shoot, and everyone was standing stiffly in place.

“So, what do you do, Callie?” There was just a touch of patronizing in his tone. I’d heard it often enough and could recognize it easily. “Whit hasn’t told us much about you.”

I stood a little straighter. Time to impress them. “I’m a tax attorney with Anderson, Krys and Chan. I’m not sure if you’re familiar with them—they’re located in Toronto.”

His eyebrows shot up. “I am familiar with the firm. Whit must have told you we’re lawyers as well. We’ve worked with them from time to time.”

I nodded.

“How long have you worked there?”

There was something in his tone. It was polite, but skeptical. Like Cooper had coached me on how to impress his family by throwing names around but I wasn’t actually the person I was claiming to be.

“Since I finished law school.”

“And where did you go to school?”

I took a sip of sparkling water, letting the tension build before I answered. “Oh, I’ve stayed in Toronto my whole life. I graduated from U of T, University of Toronto.”

U of T was the top law school in Canada. It wasn’t Yale or Harvard or Oxford, but I hadn’t had the money or connections to even apply at those places. U of T was still ranked in the top twenty schools globally.

“That’s not a bad school. We have always attended Harvard, but we recognize that’s not the be-all and end-all.”

I kept my expression smoothly polite.Nice way to exclude your nonconformist child.

“Is Cargill still teaching there?”

Again, checking the details to see if I was who I claimed to be. “He retired a couple of years ago, I believe. I’m sure a lot of students were relieved. He was demanding, but if you made it through his class, you knew your stuff.”

His face relaxed. I’d passed that test.

“So, a tax attorney. I don’t think we’ve come across your name in any of our dealings up there.”

“Lorne Peters has dealt with more of our clients based in the US.”

A flash in his eyes. Yeah, he knew Lorne. Lorne was fifty and an avid golfer. Tansy Gordon did most of the work for him, but he was certainly well connected.

“Why did you choose to specialize in that field?”

“It was a challenge.” Yeah, that sounded like I found other parts of the legal world too easy, and I was okay giving that impression to this man. “And as long as there are taxes, I’ll have a job.”

He laughed and I smiled as well, but it wasn’t a joke. Without money or connections, I had to make myself necessary.

“Very admirable. But I mustn’t monopolize you.”

Cooper’s mother took over the conversation, as if this was a practiced routine. “Lovely to meet you, Callie. Such a”—the slightest of pauses before she continued—“pretty name.”

I was not going to volunteer that my flaky mother had called me Calliope because she thought it wassucha pretty name.

“How did you meet Whit?”

Still freaked me out to hear anyone call him Whit. I shot a glance at where he was speaking to his sister.Sonot a Whit. “At a charity event for the children’s hospital in Toronto.”

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