36. CARSON

Cassie and I step out into the night air and the quiet bustle of this exclusive block. Limos and Range Rovers and Bentleys drone past on the street, carrying wealthy people to whatever their wealthy people activities may be on this beautiful night.

Some of them may well be involved in the Chase. If circumstances were different, I’d be ashamed to count myself among them. But tonight, I couldn’t be happier.

In fact, you might say I’m over the moon.

“Care for a nightcap?” I ask, trying to sound casual. “We can check out the bar in the hotel next door that you were interested in.”

“Sure,” Cassie says absently, as if she’s wrapped up inside herself. “I really don’t want tonight to end.”

If all goes well, it won’t have to. It can go straight through until tomorrow. And long after that, if there’s a God out there somewhere.

She takes my arm and we stroll down the avenue toward the exterior entrance to the Regent’s bar. Much like Piccolo, there’s nothing on the outside that would indicate the opulence within.

The doorman tips his cap to us as we approach and opens the door.

“A great pleasure to have you with us this evening,” he says.

I slip a wedge of hundreds into his breast pocket as we pass. The poor guy deserves something extra for standing outside on a night like this in a full-length wool overcoat, just to maintain some ridiculous tradition. God only knows what it’s like in the heat of summer.

We walk through the door and enter the throwback charm of the Regent. As impressed as Cassie was with the restaurant, I think she’s utterly floored by the bar.

“This looks like something out of an old movie,” she marvels as we make our way to a table for two. “I’m so glad you made me wear this gown tonight. Anything less and I would have felt like I was underdressed.”

“You could be wearing a pair of sweatpants and a Snuggie and you’d still be the most dazzling woman in this room,” I say as I pull her chair out and push it back into place under her gorgeous butt.

She props her head in her hand as I sit down across from her. I motion for our waitress, only to realize with considerable alarm that it’s the same girl who served me when I was here with the woman in the red dress.

Please don’t acknowledge me. Please.

Of course, I should have known better. Servers like those at the Regent and Piccolo know the value of discretion. She takes our order with a smile and leaves us to ourselves.

“This feels like the first time I went to Las Vegas,” Cassie says, scanning the room. “Sensory overload. Only this is like coolness overload. I feel like we’re in a different world.”

“This could be your world, you know.”

She shakes her head.

“Like you said, wealth is relative. When Tricialicious goes public, I’m hoping for maybe a $15 million payout. Sure, that’s almost five times my investment, and to most people it’s a fortune.

“But to someone like you,” Cassie says, “it’s chump change.”

I wince inwardly. She’s right; I paid more than that just for the opportunity to chase a woman and sleep with her.

It seemed perfectly reasonable at the time. Now it feels obscene. Disgusting. Something to be ashamed of.

I clear my throat.

“It really is relative,” I say. “You shouldn’t compare yourself to anyone else when it comes to money. It’s not a competition. It’s all about being able to do what you want.”

“Easy for you to say,” she grins. “That’s like Usain Bolt saying there’s nothing wrong with being a mathlete.”

I chuckle. “You know what I mean.”

“I do,” she says. “And it reminds me: before we got all caught up in tonight, we were supposed to talk about business.”

She’s right, I totally forgot. That was the whole pretext of getting her to agree to this thing in the first place.

Guess I got swept up in the magic of the night. I just hope I can keep it going.

“Right,” I say, serious as Tom Brokaw. “Business. Let’s get down to brass tacks. See where the rubber hits the road. Do the deep dive. Find the core competencies. Did I miss any?”

“Well, once we unpack, we can amplify our deliverables and see if we can move the needle. You know, drill down and find our wheelhouse.”

I nod thoughtfully.

She nods thoughtfully.

We both hold the pose for a good two seconds before simultaneously cracking up. Our server chooses that moment to arrive with our drinks.

“I should have known I was challenging the master,” I say, taking a sip. “You must be up on all the latest business buzzwords.”

Her eyes are far away. “Yeah, I suppose I must be, mustn’t I?”

“You know what, Cassie? Here’s the only advice I can give you: don’t sell yourself short. If you think fifteen million is the right number for you, that’s great. But don’t limit yourself.”

Those soulful eyes lock onto mine again, and I can see the deep uncertainty there. She makes me think of an acrobat who’s flipping and flying from one trapeze to the next, high above the crowd, with no net below her.

One slip, one momentary lapse in concentration, and she’ll plummet.

I never realized just what this whole thing must have done to her. The stress has to feel like being pulled apart on some medieval torture machine.

“Cassie, you’re the smartest person I know.”

She looks down at the table.

“I don’t feel very smart right now,” she says softly.

“That’s nerves talking. I went through the same thing when I sold Black Sword. I really only had a prototype. No market share, no goodwill list. Hell, I barely had any clients even test it out beforehand. There wasn’t time.

“What I did have was an unshakeable faith that what I’d built was valuable. Very valuable. And when the negotiations began, I went in with high expectations. I wouldn’t settle for anything less than what I wanted.”

“It obviously worked,” she says. “But you’re talking about international cyber-security software. I’m talking about ice cream.”

“There’s more to it than that, and you know it. Patty’s doesn’t sell treats; you sell happiness, however fleeting, and people will pay a premium for that. Why do you think Americans have spent billions on decaf non-fat lattes every year for the past two decades?”

She looks puzzled.

“Because at least we know that part of our day is guaranteed to be good?”

“Exactly. Tricialicious is going to be a bigger success than you can imagine. So when you set your sights on the payout, set them high.”

“How high?” she asks. Her eyes are wide, childlike.

“As high as you want them to be. You’re smart, you’ve got capital, you’ve got a great partner in Tricia. Everything is on your side in this.”

I reach out and take her hand in mine. In some ways, this is the hardest thing I’ve ever done. Part of me wishes I could just give her the key right here and now. I can’t. I’ve got to let Cassie find her way back to me. And it hurts more than anything I’ve ever done.

“Especially me.”