Crystal Trino's Journal Sep 28 2006 Entry

September 28. Thursday Night.

Hi Journey.

BizTap today. I really do enjoy going, especially when I pickup the scent of a new client.

I was leaning up against the bar at Korova’s, beer in hand, surveying the scene. Not many prospects walked through the front door, but I was quite early.

"Crystal Trino?"

He’d blind-sided me, approaching from the far side of the bar.

"Afraid so," I said, extending my hand toward him. Short, light and handsome, with a suit cut overly tight in the shoulders, so that the sleeve of his left hand hitched up about a half-inch too high above his wrist. Either he had a wretched tailor, or he’d bulked up his traps a bunch since he’d bought it. They were nicely sloped shoulders. "And you are…"

"Jeremy Frem. Branch manager for the Colfax branch of First Unified Bank and Trust."

"Bridgette sent you," I said.

He nodded. "Yes, but quite frankly I expected somebody a bit…."

"Older?"

He laughed. "No. Jockier, I guess. If that’s even a word."

I raised my eyebrows. "You mean, like I’m horsing around?"

He rolled his eyes. "No, like you are supposed to be this lean, mean running machine. You know, a jock."

"What, I don’t look lean to you? I’ll admit, I start to pack on a few pounds in the fall, but hey, I haven’t tipped the scales above…."

He set his drink on the bar and raised both hands above his head. "I surrender. Take me away."

Contrition: I love it in a man, even if it’s mock. Besides, no use pushing this one over the edge. He was too cute for that. I made a pistol of my forefinger and thumb and drew a bead on his glass, and clicked my thumb forward, hammer-like. "OK, I just blew away your beer. Call us even."

"People usually call me odd."

"Not when they want a loan, I’ll wager."

He laughed. "That’s when we hope they aren’t wagering. Or at least that they’re not heading out to Vegas, loan in hand."

"How’d you know it was me?" I asked.

"I checked out your website. Your picture’s on it, you know."

"I’m going to give my webmaster a big kiss for that, next time I see him."

He arched his head back and pulled up his eyelids wide in mock horror. "You’re dating your webmaster? I’ll never have a chance."

I just shook my head. This guy was a real geek, but he had such an easy, charming air about him I was unexpectedly drawn to him. "No, I dated my web designer; my office manager married my webmaster. Complex, I know."

"Sounds like every small business I know. And believe me; I know quite a few, in my line of work."

"I’ll bet you do. You guys must get real bored, slaving away in a bank all day," I said.

"You have no idea how I hate the words: ‘How would you like that, sir: tens and twenties?’ I hear it and I want to puke."

We bantered on for ten minutes, and then mingled with other people as Korova’s started to fill up. Jeremy promised me he’d help set an appointment for me to see the president and the branch managers of the other two First Unified branches that were slated for a makeover.

I really owe Bridgette; at least a nice dinner. She did a wonderful job of setting me up for a great sale. OK, maybe not a sale, but at least a pitch. And the way my team’s been firing on all cylinders lately, I’m confident we’ll win way more than our share of closes.

Maybe I’ll just tell Viv and Dana there’s an extra 15% in it for them, if they bag this one.

Malcolm Tonnect wasn’t about at all. That didn’t bother me much. He hadn’t called for a couple of weeks; maybe he found me as outrageous as I found him tedious. Not that he’s a bad sort. Still, I wouldn’t have minded seeing those eyes of his again.

But I also wouldn’t mind seeing those shoulders of Jeremy’s, without the suit.

Goodnight, Journey