This dinner with Fred Hinkle is imperative to my business, I can’t ask any random woman off the street. I need discretion. If Fred found out that I lied, not only would any hope of a business deal with him be ruined, but my reputation could be tarnished. The walls of the corner I’ve backed myself into are closing in.

Carl is a mediocre racquetball player, he’s even worse at tennis. He does more shit talking than actual playing, so the fact that my shirt is drenched from my efforts is a telling sign to us both. He wanders over to where I’m standing and uncaps his water bottle.

“I’ve never seen you suck this bad.” He takes a swig of his water, while I run the towel behind my neck. “Normally when a guy’s game is off, I’d say there’s a woman involved, but since you live like a monk, it’s got to be about business.”

“I don’t live like a monk. Unlike some people, I prefer to keep my personal life off Page Six.”

“Man, you must forget who you are. If there was anything to report, you’d be front and center with the rest of us.”

I’ve known Carl since our days at Hawthorne Prep. After undergrad at Columbia, I got my MBA from Wharton while Carl went to Harvard for his law degree. When I took over SCM from my uncle, Carl was an easy choice for in-house counsel. I trust him and he’s a far better lawyer than a racquetball player.

I hesitate to tell Carl about my predicament. I pride myself on being a problem solver. In the seven years since I took over running SCM, there’s never been an issue I couldn’t resolve. I love a good challenge. The fact that I’ve put myself in a position with Fred Hinkle that I’m not clear on the path forward has kept me up the past two nights.

“It is about a woman,” I grumble, before taking a drink of my water.

Carl’s eyebrows shoot up.

“Or lack thereof.”

“Oh, shit. You can’t get laid?”

“I’m fine,” I practically growl, not because I need to get laid but because I need Carl to not think with his dick for a moment. “That’s not what it’s about. You know I’m determined to land the deal with Voltaire Telecom, but Fred Hinkle is prideful.”

“That’s the pot calling the kettle black.”

I pin him with a look. “Not the point. I couldn’t get him to take a meeting, so I tracked him down at Amber’s wedding. He’s got a new girlfriend.”

“Did you hit on her?” Carl’s eyes go wide.

“No. I told him I have a girlfriend.”

“Why the hell did you do that?”