Antitrust

“So, tell me, Ed,” I touch his hand lightly from across the table, “how on Earth did you find the time for this? I expected you at the head of a high-powered round table closing out your latest buy-out, not taking little ole me to lunch.”

“Your company is worth more than a seven-million-dollar merger, my dear,” Ed clinks his wineglass against mine and I daintily take a sip to distract myself from rolling my eyes. 

God, where do these guys get off? If it were me, I’d take the seven mil. Seriously, anybody would take the seven mil. 

“How sweet,” I say instead, plastering on a charming smile. “So should I expect this to become a regular occurrence then?” 

“After this deal, darling, anything you want.”

“Well, you only say so until the next acquisition comes along,” I feign disappointment, which causes Ed to puff out his chest proudly, adjusting his garish turquoise tie. 

“That’s what makes me a successful businessman, Lola.”

No, that’s what makes you a total douche, I wish I could say and just the thought makes me chuckle to myself. And a white-collar criminal. But I’m going to freakin’ punch Drew for making my alias Lola.

“I’m sure you have your sights set on another company already, don’t you?” 

“Now come on, Lola, you know that’s privileged information,” he chastises me, and I grit my teeth into an innocent smile, pretending to be captivated and enamored with his business prowess as I twiddle with my necklace.

“Ed, really, who am I going to tell?” You have no idea.

“Well, alright, rumor going around is that Maxwell Industries is going under. I figure they could use a little pick-me-up. I’m scheduled to meet with their CEO next Thursday, but I’ve already started to glance through their internal reports – they’re such a mess over there!”

And we can add illegal acquisition of trade secrets to Ed’s long list of shady business dealings. Drew’s probably drawing up the paperwork as we speak.

Ed starts explaining his plans to take over Maxwell through some underhanded price slashing I make note of but don’t fully listen to when I’m saved by the waiter coming up to take our order.

“I’ll have the –” I start to say when Ed interrupts. 

“We’ll both have the shrimp scampi and fettuccini in lemon cream sauce, and please bring us another bottle of your house wine.”

“Just a water for me,” I correct – though I’d love to mute Ed into a buzzing voice in my head, I am technically on duty.

“But darling, we’re celebrating,” Ed pouts.

“But darling,” I echo in a sweet voice, “I’ve still got your notes to type up. You wouldn’t want me to miss a zero in those figures of yours because I started seeing double.”

“Just a water then,” he tells the waiter and takes my hand again once he leaves. “What would I do without you?”

I cross my legs, the red dress sliding up my thigh. “Well, you’d never get your appointment book in order, I know that for a fact. It was a disaster before I came in. Which reminds me, somebody named Drew called to set up a meeting with you? He wouldn’t tell me a last name, said you’d know who he is?”

“Drew? I don’t believe I know a Drew.”

“He said you discussed some sort of joint-venture of the Miller Group?” I adjust my necklace, choosing my words carefully.

“Oh, Andy Swanson!” Ed’s face lights up. “Sure, yes, of the Miller Group, I have been meaning to speak with him. But this is going to be a rather confidential meeting, Lola. Please don’t write it in my appointment book, I don’t trust most of the aides like I trust you.”

That was your first mistake. Actually, no, more like your third. Your first was skimming revenue from your ledgers by selling below cost to bulk buyers. Your second was hiring me. 

“When should I schedule him?” 

“Can you call him back and tell him we’ll meet over lunch on the 23^rd? That should give us enough time to compile the documents.”

“What documents?”

“The merger will never go through if we can’t show efficiency gains. Of course, antitrust authorities can’t observe our actual costs, just an estimate, so we have some room to, improvise. I believe we can find some extra cushion in our newest product line,” he says pointedly. 

Gotcha. Now I just need to feed Drew a time when he’ll be out of office to search it.

“That sounds like an important project,” I coyly trace Ed’s palm again. “I think I’ll need some help with that. Preferably over those lunches that were supposed to become a regular occurrence? You wouldn’t want me to think only Mr. Swanson deserves a midday rendezvous.”

Ed smiles. “How about Wednesdays at noon? I know this fantastic little French restaurant I think you’ll adore.”

I was wondering whether he’d go for the cliché French or Italian. I’ve never heard of a man taking a woman out to lunch at a Mexican restaurant, and suddenly I get such a craving for empanadas. 

I lean in close to him. “Sounds divine – oh no! Look at me, I’m such a klutz!” I knock my wineglass into my lap.

“Here,” Ed immediately hands me his napkin and I stand up as I take it from him, leaning on his arm as I try to wipe off the stain.

“Oh, it’s no use!” I cry. “Let me go see if I can wash it off.” 

I grab my briefcase and scurry off to the restroom in the back, appearing distressed. I’m impressed with my expression as I catch a glimpse of my face in the mirror before I roll my eyes. Damn, I’m good.

“Did you guys get all that?” I ask into the pendant of my necklace.

“Loud and clear. Good work, Agent,” Drew’s voice rings through the static. “You can come on out whenever you’re ready. Car’s out front.”

“You couldn’t be more obvious?”

“Hey, it’s only valet parking – you’re lucky we got this close!”

“You couldn’t flash your badge at him?”

“I thought we didn’t want to be obvious! A black SUV already draws attention,” Drew echoes. “By the way, by ‘whenever you’re ready,’ I mean the next five minutes ‘cause then the valet will really kick us out.”

I open my briefcase and slip in the flash drive I plucked out of Ed’s jacket pocket returning his napkin. Mission accomplished. Sifting over Ed’s stolen appointment book and suspicious reports ready for the evidence room, I take out a change of clothes. I tug on a pair of black slacks under my short dress, tucking the skirt into the waistband. A beige sweater covers the top and I twist my hair under a matching beret so no strands are peeking out. The necklace I keep safely closed in my fist until I’ll deposit it into Drew’s hand. Wiping off the vibrant red lipstick and putting on a pair of big round glasses, I exit the restroom, walking boldly through the length of the restaurant. Ed doesn’t even notice when I pass right in front of him with a satisfied smirk. By the time he realizes I’m not coming back, all his most sensitive documents will be confiscated and leaked, and I indeed will be coming back with an arrest warrant.

I push open the restaurant door right as the waiter brings the shrimp scampi – good, I’m allergic to shellfish anyway.