Page 13 of Some Like It Deadly
“I could.” She slid her phone into the back pocket of her jeans and adjusted her purse on her shoulder. She carried a very practical bag, nothing frilly, but the one time he’d picked it up to hand it to her the weight had impressed him.
“And they are?” He motioned to her to proceed, then opened his trunk to retrieve his golf clubs.
“I said Icouldtell you, not that I would.” The corners of her mouth turned up into an amused grin and she glanced around.
“It’s hardly privileged information. I could look the names up.” He represented the fund.
“I was under a nondisclosure agreement that remains binding whether I work for Miss Novak or not.” She spared him another wry look. “A nondisclosure I believe you drafted.”
“Hmm, hoisted by my own legal acumen.” Richard set his club bag on the ground and closed the trunk. “Well played, Kate. Well played.”
“Thank you, sir.” She grinned and that twinkle gleamed in her eyes.
Loosening the handle on his club bag, he tugged it along and motioned her to move ahead of him as she would likely do anyway. “I said well-played. You haven’t won yet.”
“Oh?” She glanced at him over her shoulder. “Are we keeping score in this game?”
“We are now.”
They managedthe first five holes in relative peace and quiet, addressing only the most pleasant of topics. Bing, as it turned out, was not someone Richard knew at all. He’d expected anattorney or financial advisor and instead Bruno Bing turned out to be an actor and the brother-in-law of Kravitts—and wholly uninterested in the game.
Bing never took his attention off Kate.
“The problem we’re running into with this latest set of regulations from the EU is narrowing the market share.” Walsinger walked a half circle around the tee, his gaze on the hole 192 yards away. The man could never just take a shot. He had to cozy up to it like a woman he wanted to pick up in a bar. “First, it was just the German trades. Now France and Spain are adding in changes and adjustments. Belgium suggested three more and the U.K.—they’re proving intractable on Atlantic crossover.”
This wasn’t Richard’s first rodeo. Walsinger wanted Richard to talk to Armand and grease the wheels for him.
Bing stood off to the right, his mouth moving and his hand on Kate’s shoulder. To her credit, she glanced at the actor once and moved a half step away forcing his hand to drop off of her. She didn’t seem to pay him any attention, instead she watched Walsinger and his shot and then looked over the landscape.
What the hell is he talking to her about?
Bing did all the talking. Kate hadn’t said anything that Richard’d noticed.
Kravitts folded his arms. “Just take the shot, Harvey, so the rest of us can play. We’ve got folks two holes behind us and they’ll be asking to play through if you take much longer.”
Walsinger paused to give Kravitts a baleful look and then positioned himself, lining up his club, but he was nowhere near ready to swing. Richard ignored the theatrics of the shot to check on Kate. Bing touched her, again. Irritation flared along his nerve endings and he locked gazes with his assistant. He hadn’t brought her with him to be pawed by that clown.
Brows up, he flicked a look to Bing and back to her. The corner of her mouth curved and she crossed her eyes, but gave a subtle shake of her head. She didn’t need him to intercede.
“Don’t you think our long-standing history should count for something? My company has maintained three factories in Germany since 1947,” Walsinger continued to grumble and twice he worked his arm, testing his angle.
Richard waited a beat for him to play before replying. “I think reminding the oversight committees that your company took advantage of post-war rebuilding to get a financial foothold in their country that funneled money out instead of in wouldn’t be prudent.”
Scowling, the older man pointed his golf club at him. “That’s not a particularly generous description of how my company does business.”
“It’s not a particularly generous market, Harvey, and you are free to take the advice or not.” He didn’t flinch at the anger in the other man’s eyes, no matter how irrational. Harvey Walsinger knew how to cut a deal; temper tantrums were not typically a part of them. Something else was up.
“Let’s keep playing and allow cooler heads to prevail. We have a week until the consortium hands out its approvals for the next fiscal year’s contracts. Plenty of time to make this work.” Kravitts swept in with a conciliatory gesture. His gaze, however, remained fixed on Walsinger until Harvey lowered his club and grunted an assent.
“Kate.” Richard didn’t look at her, waiting while Walsinger and Kravitts headed out to take the next shot. Arriving at his elbow, Kate lifted a brow, but her tag-a-long hovered right behind her. Pausing, Richard eyed him. “The play is that way.” He continued to stare and Bing raised his hands in a mild offer of surrender that his eyes promised he had no interest in paying. He followed the other two men.
After Bilbo Bing was out of earshot, Kate glanced at him. “Do you want me to call your investigator to find out what is going on between those two?”
“Yes, text him. I assume you have the number—and then check the SEC filings tomorrow morning.” They knew about the upcoming consortium announcement. No matter how quiet and low key he played it, Kravitts was fishing for an inside lead.
“Walsinger isn’t your problem.” Of course she’d noticed it too. Kravitts had requested the golf game.
“I know. What does Cousin It want?” The reference to the actor’s shaggy flop of blond hair earned an arrested smile from his assistant.
