Page 112 of Gold Rush

“That’s great.”

“It is,” Wren agrees. “Listen, I’ve got to go to a study group thing. But call me anytime if you need to talk. Okay? And I’ll see you”—she glances away, presumably at a calendar—“in fifteen days.”

“I will. And thanks, Wren, for talking.”

“Anytime. Truly. I mean it.”

“I know you do. Love you.”

“Love you too. Bye.”

I hang up and toss my phone on the bed.

Finch lifts her head, staring at me with unnerving alertness.

“Did you only come in here because Flynn is gone?” I ask.

She blinks.

“Do you think I should tell Flynn I might be a little bit in love with him?”

She drops her head again, appearing to go back to sleep.

I sigh. “Good talk.”

35

Jay reaches out, pressing the elevator button before I can. “You ready for this?”

I nod. “I am.”

“Good. You’ll take lead in there.”

I nod again. A ding announces the elevator arriving. It’s empty. I let Jay enter first, then follow him inside. He selects the correct floor, and then we start to ascend.

We’re at the headquarters of Clarke Infrastructure—a privately owned company based in New York and operating globally. The founder, Lloyd Clarke, is famous for having started as a construction foreman and scaling to a size of multibillion-dollar government bids. And for his cynical discernment when it comes to business. He attended trade school, learning the construction business from the bottom up and the inside out. That practical experience hasn’t meshed well with previous counsel. He’s worked with five firms in the past four years, firing his most recent representation last week. We’re in the running to replace them.

The doors open again. I’m expecting a generic lobby, but we step into a unique layout. The offices are placed around the perimeter of the floor. A large conference table is set up in the center of the open space, no walls surrounding it. Smaller tables are arranged around it instead. Several are occupied with two or three employees on laptops. Others have building plans or dioramas set on them.

Lloyd Clarke is seated at the large center table, which is round, not rectangular. I’d recognize him even if I hadn’t done extensive research prior to this pitch and read several articles that included photographs of him. He looks young for his age—sixty-one—and is wearing jeans and a polo with the company’s logo embroidered on it, rather than the customary suit.

Three men—all wearing suits—are seated across from and around him.

“Are you from Locke, Grey, and Lee?” A woman approaches, her polo identifying her as another employee.

“We are,” Jay confirms.

“Great. Lloyd is wrapping up his appointment before yours. He’ll be with you shortly. Can I get you anything to drink?”

“A water would be great. Flynn?”

I yank my gaze from one of the men at the table. “Same, please.”

“I’ll be right back with those.” The woman smiles, then departs.

“Clever,” Jay comments, surveying the table. “Those guys are from Bradford, Nash, & Monroe. He’s ensuring we see the competition.”

“Smart,” I agree, still focused on Perry as he talks alongside his colleagues.