The Caterer

Chapter 7

B OBBIE WHISTLED AS HE WALKED through Macon’s mostly empty office. It was Friday, the end of a good week, and he planned to celebrate. He stopped and shook his tush, still riding high off getting rid of Tabby Black and bringing TabiKat under Macon’s control. The woman brought in her resignation midweek. A diva to the last. Upset someone realized what an unoriginal prima donna existed under her off-putting exterior. Bobbie did his homework and used his keen business sense to sniff out her pretending. Now she was gone, and they could take her pathetic vision to the next level.

He planned to whisk Carrie away for the weekend to thank her for bringing him the score of the decade. They met at a party over the spring. He almost didn’t go, but his friend told him to make an appearance, the guy who owned the house could be a valuable contact later. Bobbie went because he could appreciate a contact but was no one’s sucker. He would not be at this man’s beck and call .

Carrie stood across the room with another friend. Blond hair, ideal frame, nice ass, healthy rack—probably fake, but what did he care? He knew her type: divorced, used to a certain lifestyle, unsure how to be alone. He finished his Scotch, noticed she drank a martini, and got two fresh ones from the bar before sauntering her way. Her friend did a once-over, brushing him off. He knew he retained a bit of a baby face, that many passed off his ability to enjoy the finer things as overindulgence. Most only saw him as Delany Clare’s best friend. But he made sure people like that regretted the day they underestimated him.

“Your drink is empty.” He stopped beside Carrie and held the fresh one out for her. Her weary brown eyes sized him up. The hand that held her drink also held his Cartier ring. If this broad worked as he suspected, she’d understand what it cost. She saw it, a flirty smile filling her face.

“Thank you, Mr. …” She reached for the martini.

“Dunn, Bobbie Dunn.”

They chatted before Bobbie asked if she wanted to come back to his place. She shrugged and left her latest drink on the counter in the kitchen.

They met for dinner later that week, Bobbie jonesing for a repeat. When the meal came, to pass the time, they got into what the other did. He ran a holding company. She recently divorced and hoped to reestablish herself in D.C. Over dessert, she told him about TabiKat and WlkmNt. The stupid names made sense once he learned one of Carrie’s girlfriends ran the company. Something about the website stayed with him.

Carrie introduced him to Harry; now he was dealing with someone serious. He knew all about Harry’s father, supported much of what his firm lobbied through Congress. If Gene Clarks saw value in this pithy venture, maybe Bobbie had underestimated it. Harry wanted to sell, but Tabby was shortsighted, unwilling to let anyone challenge her. Both men understood TabiKat could be huge. Bobbie became obsessed with bringing it under Macon.

He walked into the lunchroom on the top floor to the wine fridge in the corner with its collection of white wines and champagnes from a vineyard Macon owned outside Napa. The stock was reserved for special occasions and this week qualified as one of those. He reached for a bottle of their best champagne, taking two glasses out of the cabinet above it. Get Bulldog focused on what the acquisition of TabiKat meant for Macon and their plans for the tech space, and he’d forget about what happened.

Carrie mentioned the rooftop event as a great way for her and Harry to meet Delany. The night had to be done with caution as Bobbie could not risk Delany realizing not everyone knew about the sale or perhaps talking to Tabby and saying something. Then Carrie found him at the event and stole him away for a quickie. His heart stopped when he came back and found Delany talking to Tabby. Carrie warned him about Tabby’s paranoia and how she’d guard her hand at the first hint something might be amiss. Bobbie watched the encounter and found Tabby to be a frumpier version of Carrie. She didn’t take care of herself; everything sagged. Carrie still held tenacity and fire; Tabby came off antiquated and vanilla. Carrie believed her bestie could code something so complex, but women were not that smart. Tabby had to be feeding her ideas to Moe, the one doing all the real work.

He called to see why Delany left the party early, hoping to go out after and celebrate, but Bulldog said he was with a friend. Please . Bobbie had been Delany’s best friend since middle school and Bobbie came up with the nickname Bulldog. “Friend” meant a woman, but who? Delany hadn’t mentioned anyone to him, so maybe it was nothing.

Bobbie went to work Monday and finished modifying the boilerplate contract they used for most of their acquisitions. He wrote himself a bigger bonus, since he’d done all the work to get Carrie to show her hand and let him in. Then Bulldog announced he planned to be at the meeting. Bobbie told him he had it. Delany didn’t need to be bothered with a run-of-the-mill acquisition, let him handle it. But Delany insisted. He came early and asked for the contract. Bulldog found the fee and took it out, giving the papers to the lawyer before Bobbie could object.

He looked toward the empty conference room. For the last three years he had overseen acquisitions at Macon without Bulldog ever being at a meeting. He did not get why Delany refused to let him handle things, why he insisted on taking the lead. Tabby’s reaction surprised him, Bobbie expecting her to fold. He tried to stay when Delany told everyone to clear out. The dowdy mess would not walk out with the contract. You never let an acquisition leave, never let them look at alternatives. The companies they acquired should be grateful Macon offered them a chance to expand their pathetic horizons.

If anyone other than that redheaded pipsqueak stood outside the door, he would have muscled his way back in and demand Delany let him handle things. Something in Delany’s face told Bobbie he had questions. It would be better if he laid low for a few days. But fate did it for him, taking Delany out of the office all week. Carrie had been sulking since the merger, not receptive like she should be. He told her it was business, and friendship had no place in it. Hopefully, she got over it soon.

Bobbie looked around, Delany’s office empty. Where was Bulldog?

#

DELANY LOOSENED HIS TIE, the elevator clicking through the floors. Friday night. Things should be quiet at the office. Maybe now he could figure out what went wrong with the TabiKat deal. Nothing Delany said could get Mrs. Black to consider staying on when she brought back her contract and resignation letter, telling him to wait and see how all the vision within her company was walking out the door. When he went to meet with the coders and Mr. Manuel, it became clear Bobbie underestimated who was who in that building. The marketing team shifted gears to keep the merger from hitting the papers. The story became about minimizing Mrs. Black's departure and lifting Mr. Manuel up as the new CEO.

The elevator doors opened to the top floor. He’d spent most of the day bringing Mr. Manuel and the other TabiKat officers in to meet with Chip-Pixel and start discussions of how the firms could work together. He needed to check his email and see what Katy left him to do, still trying to figure out how to balance things since his retirement. Ultimately, he hoped Macon could be a part-time gig. He wanted to give more to his philanthropic endeavors, especially his nonprofit, but the board chair asked that Delany give Macon his full attention. It had been a second priority while he balled, but as his mother reminded him, he could only be as generous as he wanted with Macon thriving. Delany got it and cleared the next eighteen months to be present at his company. He wanted to get to know those they partnered with, go see some of their businesses outside of D.C. Macon Enterprises grossed over three billion annually, mostly because of those they invested in.

“There you are!” Bobbie smiled wide and lifted the bottle in his hands. “I brought the good stuff.”

“Since we own the vineyard, I hope you did.” Delany walked into his office, passing two empty bookcases between the door and his desk. The space was long and narrow. Two walls of windows provided an unobstructed view from Georgetown to the Lincoln Memorial. Sometimes, he would sit at the conference table at the far end and pretend he wasn’t locked inside all day. Someday he’d figure out how to make the space feel like more than a rectangular cage. Pick a paint color. Hang something on the walls. For now, the “I just retired” line seemed to work well .

Bobbie sat on the dark leather couch between the conference table and his desk and took a drink. “Damn that’s good.”

Delany chose one of the chairs opposite him and waited while Bobbie poured champagne into a second glass before he sat back and rested the glass on the arm of his chair.

“Do you know why Mrs. Black was so upset the other day?” He hadn’t had time to ask Bobbie how the entire fiasco happened.

“Ah, come on, Bulldog, water under the bridge. She’s a control freak who wanted to keep things simple. Her vision was small, the other shareholders saw it. Hence why they came to us.”

“It still feels like she was taken out of left field.”

Bobbie pulled the glass away from his lips. “Mr. Clarks assured me he would tell her. Carrie told me Harry was unreliable. I should have listened, instead I trusted him to uphold his word. I won’t make that mistake again.”

He thought Bobbie mentioned meeting with all four investors on Monday, but maybe something came up. Perhaps Tabby couldn’t make the lunch, and Harry promised to tell her; that wasn’t on Bobbie.

“You really think it’s the best idea to date her?”

Bobbie laughed. “Nothing happened until after the sale. She approached us at the party, remember?” He finished his glass. “Listen, I know you’re Mr. Want To Do The Right Thing, but this isn’t on you. Trust me, it will all work out. You’ll see.”

Delany took a drink, something about it not adding up. Bobbie was closer than a brother and practically grew up at his house. He watched the fakes hound Delany for time and money, only wanting to use his name and image to sell their products and get rich. Delany’s high school coach told him to “remember where you came from.” Outsiders would only use him, but those who had been there since the start had his back. Bobbie always had his back.