I stood up, smiled, and extended my hand, just as I had done before. “Hello, I’m Don Croswell.”
She gave me a smirk, stood, and said, “Good to meet you, Don. I’m Sarah Blevins.” She laughed as we shook hands. “Please, sit down. Would you like a water?” She swiveled in her chair and got two bottles from her mini-fridge. “I’m a competent accountant. My records prove that. I also have a very good nose for bullshit.”
“That’s what I need. This guy is hiding something. I’m just not sure where or how.”
She said, “When my boss told me about this assignment, I was anxious to work with you because of what you do, not who you work for. You expose liars. You search for the truth. That’s what I do, too. Look, Don, I’m sorry, but I’m guilty of a little bit of hero worship here. You look at the whole picture. All I do is give you some financial details.”
“If you can give me those details, I’ll make sure my employers know exactly how valuable your assistance was. There may be need for your services in the future, if you’re willing.”
“I have a career with this firm. As I understand it, the boss is basically ‘renting’ me to you,” she said.
“That’s right, and I’m not in a position to offer anyone a job anyway, but I’ve given references before that have gotten a little freelance work for some people. In one way or another, we’re all in the information business. Networking is important, and I’ve got a big address book,” I said.
“Let’s see if I can help you first,” she answered.
“How do you want to start?”
“With lunch. There’s a cafe downstairs.”
“I saw it,” I said. “I’m on an expense account, so my employer is buying. I’ll drive.”
We walked through the parking garage, Sarah stopping to get an attache case from her minivan. I had parked my rental car out where people were less likely to hit it.
“Oh my,” Sarah murmured when I hit the remote locks on the silver Mercedes SLK. “I never rode in one of those.”
“I hadn’t either. Triple upgrade from the rental car company. That’s why I said I’ll drive. It’s a lot more fun than the car I have at home. Where’s a good place to eat?”
During lunch, she told me a bit about herself. “I’m thirty-seven. I have two kids. I had to delay presenting my master’s thesis because I went into labor with my daughter two weeks early. I’m a hard worker, Don.”
“If we do this, we’re going to spend a lot of time together, you know,” I said.
“As long as I can get six hours sleep and a shower, I can be on the job. My husband, Tim, will work from home. I’ve done this before,” she said.
I paid the tab, and we walked to the car. When we were on the highway, heading to the factory, I asked, “You’re saying you’ll work past five o’clock?”
“Don, I may be younger than you, but I’m not naive. I know what it takes to succeed in this business. I’ll work as long as necessary to get the job done.”
“All work and no play makes Sarah a dull girl,” I observed.
“I didn’t think it was that obvious,” she said.
Great. I must have hit a nerve. I said, “That was rude of me. I was trying to be funny. I was willing to settle for lame, but I didn’t mean to be insulting.”
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