What Now, King lear? [Mass Market Paperback] by Boyle, Alistair

Boyle, Alistair

Worldwide

"Is it possible she won't want to see you?" 
 Darts came through the eyes. "Why would she not?" he faltered. I think I heard his voice break. "Of course...it's...possible." He put a spin on "possible," like anything was possible but he would just as soon not think it could be in this case. When he regained his composure, he asked, "So what would you charge?" 
 Here we were at the moment of truth. I had rehearsed my response to this inevitable question in front of the bathroom mirror in our tract house. I had honed it to as near believable perfection as I was capable of bringing off. But now my tongue seemed to stick to my lower teeth. Michael Hadaad didn't let his gaze waver. Finally I shook my head, once. "Phew," I said with as much bravado as my thumping heart would allow. "Gonna be expensive." 
 "How expensive?" he asked, cocking an eye of suspicion. 
 "Not so simple," I said. "I bring her here and she's happy to come, I'd settle for two hundred." 
 "Two hundred dollars?" He thought he had gotten lucky. 
 "Two hundred thousand," I corrected him. 
 "Two..." he choked. "That's ridiculous!" 
 This is where my art came in. I nodded, the soul of understanding, and stood to leave. I nodded again, in acknowledgment of his hospitality, and said, "I quite understand. My fees are a lot higher than the run of the mill. There are many available for a lot less." 
 He just stared at me, as though I were the first person to ever walk out on him. For my part, I was not as bummed at the prospect of losing the case or the fee (it was a lark anyway) as I was of losing the opportunity to see his palm collection. 
 I turned to leave. I had not taken three steps when I heard the mighty Michael Hadaad say, "No, wait." 
 I smiled to myself before I turned. Now I cocked my eye as he had done so expertly. 
 He answered: "You had the guts to get up. Most people can't see past their fee. Sit down." 
 I did. 
 "Is there room for negotiation?" 
 "I don't nickel and dime," I said. "I don't submit chits for meals and gas. But I'm afraid I've only given you the low side." 
 Up went the eyelids. 
 I nodded. God, I thought, is he buying this? But how could he? "If she doesn't want to come, it will be a half-million." 
 He sank back in his chair. I stood again, but faced him. "I quite understand your reluctance, Mr. Hadaad. I am used to working for the extremely wealthy, exclusively."

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