BooksBarbecue
Back The Asset
Chapters (86)
  1. Foreword
  2. 1
  3. 2
  4. 3
  5. 4
  6. 5
  7. 6
  8. 7
  9. 8
  10. 9
  11. 10
  12. 11
  13. 12
  14. 13
  15. 14
  16. 15
  17. 16
  18. 17
  19. 18
  20. 19
  21. 20
  22. 21
  23. 22
  24. 23
  25. 24
  26. 25
  27. 26
  28. 27
  29. 28
  30. 29
  31. 30
  32. 31
  33. 32
  34. 33
  35. 34
  36. 35
  37. 36
  38. 37
  39. 38
  40. 39
  41. 40
  42. 41
  43. 42
  44. 43
  45. 44
  46. 45
  47. 46
  48. 47
  49. 48
  50. 49
  51. 50
  52. 51
  53. 52
  54. 53
  55. 54
  56. 55
  57. 56
  58. 57
  59. 58
  60. 59
  61. 60
  62. 61
  63. 62
  64. 63
  65. 64
  66. 65
  67. 66
  68. 67
  69. 68
  70. 69
  71. 70
  72. 71
  73. 72
  74. 73
  75. 74
  76. 75
  77. 76
  78. 77
  79. 78
  80. 79
  81. 80
  82. 81
  83. 82
  84. 83
  85. 84
  86. Afterword

She took a seat at the bar.

“What’s the most expensive red wine you have?” she said to the bartender.

He looked up at her. “By the glass?”

“Yes.”

He thought for a second and said, “I’ve got a nice Bordeaux.”

She nodded.

The restaurant was a good place to make a move. It had a nice bar, plenty going on for this time of night. There were four single men at the bar, two couples, and a few people scattered around at tables. Everyone was done eating and the atmosphere was relaxed.

She’d been told Goldin would be there but she didn’t see him.

She noticed two men at the bar looking at her. That was nothing unusual. An attractive woman at a bar drew attention. But this target was from the top floor, which meant there was a chance she was being observed. For now that wasn’t a concern. She was where she was supposed to be, doing what she was supposed to be doing. It was later, when she went to meet Spector, that she would have to be vigilant.

She glanced toward the door.

Bingo.

Sheldon Goldin. Fifty-eight. Father of three. Senator’s office. Lobbyist. Providence, Rhode Island.

She’d have him in bed within the hour.

She waited to see where he sat and if he was with anyone. Perfect. A table for two but no date. He ordered a drink.

Tatyana took a sip of her wine and picked up her phone. She spoke into it as if answering a call, speaking in English.

“You can’t do this to me,” she said loudly.

Some people looked up, including Goldin.

His drink arrived, something amber in a rocks glass, and he took a sip.

“I’ll have nowhere to go,” she said into the phone. “I have no one here.”

She was a good actor. She brought tears to her eyes and motioned for the bartender to bring her another glass of the Bordeaux.

“You can’t do this,” she said again.

She put down the phone and looked around the bar. Every pair of eyes in the place was on her. She got off her seat awkwardly and made for the women’s washroom. In the washroom, she messed her eye makeup to make it look like she’d been crying.

On her way back to the bar she walked right by Goldin’s table and knocked over his drink.

“Oh my God,” she cried.

She bent down to pick up the glass and cut her hand on it.

“Don’t worry about that,” Goldin said.

She looked up at him, bent over by his knees, and the view down the front of her dress got his attention instantly.

“I’m so sorry, sir.”

“A little help here,” Goldin said to the hostess who was already on her way.

“I’m so sorry,” Tatyana said again, then started to cry.