They made a big show of quickly seating us, despite our not having reservations, oh how gracious of them, but one look at the dining room told me that getting a walk-in table was no problem at all on a Monday night.

I recognized a few of the diners, people I had met or seen Saturday night, and they seemed to recognize me. Them and many other people, many glancing up, seeing me, looking away, a few staring, as Cassandra and I were led to our table.

"Mister Carter!" A man was out of his seat, as we walked by, grabbing my hand, stopping me. "I am so glad to see you are doing well," he said with a huge grin. "After that horrible incident Saturday night, we weren't sure how you'd be."

He glanced to the lady seated with him, and her I remembered: Katherine Longerbeam; her husband was Theodore and was on the board for First Pacific City Bank And Trust.

"It wasn't as bad as it looked, Mister Longerbeam," I said, giving him a smile, looking to his wife. "Missus Longerbeam, it is good to see you again."

"You as well, Mister Carter," she said, holding out her hand for me to take, which I did, the back of it kissed. God, I hated the formalities.

"Allow me to introduce a couple of gentlemen who are on the board with me," Theodore Longerbeam said, hand on my back, turning me toward the table.

I glanced to Cassandra who just followed the host, shaking her head, leaving me all alone among these people.

Crap.

"This is Clyde Roberts," he said, gesturing to a man with a really bad hair piece who rose and shook my hand. "And Robert Saunders," gesturing to the other gentleman who stood and shook my hand as well.

"A pleasure to meet you, Mister Carter," he said, his voice almost as strong as his grip.

"How opportune for you to be here," said Theodore. "We were just discussing the aspects of doing business here in Pacific City."

I tried to say something, tried to break off, but Clyde Roberts was quick to speak.

"Ever since Saturday night's event, well, there's been a lot of discussion about doing business here," he said. "Many people are afraid of what these people could do to business."

"Understandably," I said.

"So, we were just discussing what could be done to help promote people staying," said Theodore. "And what City Hall was looking at doing. Clyde was mentioning that he had heard talk of tax incentives."

"Which would be very smart," said Clyde. "If the cost of doing business here was low enough..."

"I'm afraid I'm not in the loop on such talk, gentlemen," I said. "And, to be quite honest, I don't know if there is a loop."

"It's certainly something that could be considered, though," said Theodore. "Were the administration truly concerned about what the businesses are doing."

"The Mayor is concerned," I said. "But, at the moment, his number one priority is reacting to the Ferguson tragedy first."

"You can't afford to ignore the business problem," said Clyde.

"We also can not afford to cut city revenues on the concern that businesses might leave the city," I said. "A move that would certainly cost them more than it is worth, if you ask me."

"Mister Carter," said Clyde. "We understand that this is not your area of expertise, so..."

"You're right, Mister Roberts," I said. "So, certainly anything I say should be taken with a grain of salt, but, with the Australian government failing to step up and assist us in taking care of those effected by this weekend's tragedy, it is becoming quite apparent that this city may have to be financially self sufficient. To voluntarily cut into our budget because businesses want to blackmail the city into keeping them here--" Clyde balked, but I continued. "--would hurt our ability to help the people. Especially if, in order to make up that loss of funds, the responsibility was put onto their backs.

"But, like you said, economics is not my area of expertise. My job, and the job of the Mayor and all of City Hall, is to meet the needs of the people first and the businesses second. We will deal with the problems businesses have in due time, but, please, allow some time for the people harmed by the Ferguson attack to get the attention they need."

"Of course, Mister Carter," said Robert Saunders with a grin. "But, we would appreciate it if the Mayor would take some time to address the needs of the business community, so we can also help the people."

"I'm sure the Mayor would be more than happy to do what he can to help make doing business here in Pacific City worthwhile. How he would do that is in his hands, though."

"Perhaps if we could meet with the Mayor to discuss what options are available to him..."

"That is probably a good idea, Mister Saunders. Unfortunately, I do not handle the Mayor's appointments, but, if you called his office, I'm sure one could be set up. And, if you have any problems there," I said, reaching into my inside coat pocket and pulling out a business card, handing it to him. "Speak with my secretary, Miss Meyers, and she will do what she can to help you.

"Well, I'll let you gentlemen and lady get back to your meals," I said, patting Theodore on the shoulder, giving them all a big grin. "Gentlemen, it was a pleasure meeting you," I nodded towards Clyde and Robert. "Missus Longerbeam, always a pleasure." She smiled and returned my nod, seeming almost oblivious to the whole conversation that just happened. "Good to see you again, Mister Longerbeam."

None of them said anything to me, as I walked away and left them to sulk or whatever they chose to do once I was gone.

The host or maitre'd or whatever fancy name you want to give him was waiting by the table when I arrived, gesturing to my seat and handing me a menu as I sat. He spouted off something about a special, a soup of the day, said our waitress would be with us shortly, and then he took off.

"So, are you regretting coming here?" Cassandra asked, as she looked at the menu, a smirk on her face.

"I'm working on it," I said with a smirk of my own. "What the hell is a bank board doing trying to dictate how City Hall deals with businesses?"

"A few members of that bank board are current or former board members of some of the largest businesses in Pacific City," said Cassandra, still looking at her menu, still smirking.

"So, they end up giving themselves loans and breaks and the like?" Cassandra nodded. "Huh. I need to pay a bit more attention to these things."

"You do," she said, closing her menu and setting it down. "You also have to understand that, under Cliff Jerrod's administration, there was a business advisory council that he created to more or less dictate how Pacific City treated businesses. Something Mayor Romanov decided not to deal with when he came in."

"Ignored it out of existence, probably," I said, looking at my menu. "So, if Romanov's been ignoring the businesses' needs for the last four months, how bad has the Pacific City economy been hurt?"

"That'd be good to know, wouldn't it?"

I looked up to her, her smirking, and waiting for her to tell me.

"I don't know the answer to that, Jeffery," she said, as someone stopped by our table and filled our water glasses. I thanked him, and he nodded and left.

"Why this city is still able to function is beyond me," I said, grabbing my water and taking a sip.

"And, you're not going to be able to fix everything on your own, Jeffery," said Cassandra, her fingers dancing on the rim of her water glass. "A city council or advisors, something to help fill the void with people who know what they're doing."

"Right," I said, nodding. "You're right. Now, how to convince Erlend of that..."

The waitress stopped at our table and smiled, bottle of wine in hand, starting to fill our glasses without asking.

"Compliments of Mister Vance," she said, looking in the direction of a table near one of the far walls.

Another person I'd met Saturday night, another rich and powerful man with a vested interest in buttering up City Hall, raising his glass a bit in a toast or salute, as I looked over. I returned the gesture, forced a smile.

"Are you all ready to order, or would you like a few more minutes?" she asked.

"Just a few more minutes, please," I said, grabbing my menu again, looking to Cassandra, as the waitress left. "Is it proper etiquette to just sit here, or should I go and thank him personally?"

"He probably wants you to go say hello," Cassandra said.

"We're not going to get to eat tonight, are we?"

"Are you regretting this yet?" she asked, leaning forward, elbows on the table, resting her chin on the back of her intertwined fingers.

"You're getting a kick out of this, aren't you?" She smiled, picked up her wine, and took a sip. "Next time I mention romantic dinner," I said, picking up my wine as well, holding it up for a toast, "remind me to eat in."

We clinked glasses, gave each other smiles, and drank.

***

"So, what is it that you have to do tonight?" asked Cassandra, as she looked at herself in her full length mirror, trying to tie my tie onto herself while wearing only the dress shirt she had taken off of me an hour before.

"I can't really say," I told her, as I pulled my pants on and started buckling my belt.

"Oh?" She looked at me in the mirror, one eyebrow raised. "Top secret?"

"Something like that," I said, as I bent over to pick my undershirt up off the floor of her bedroom.

"Are you seeing another villainess behind my back, Jeffery Carter?"

I paused for a brief moment, bent over, shirt in hand, and felt my stomach lurch. Then, I moved, stood upright with a deep breath, and smiled.

"You're the only bad girl in my life."

"Right," she said in a tone that told me she playfully didn't believe it one bit. She turned and walked to me, pulled the still undone tie from around her neck, and brought it around mine. "I've heard stories of how smooth this Bush43 can be with the ladies."

"I've heard stories too," I said. "And, if they were half true, I'd be a hell of a lot more relaxed."

"James Bond had his Bond Girls; you have your Bush Girls."

"Bond was a lucky bastard."

"Are you saying you're unlucky, Mister Carter?" Cass asked, as she tugged on the sides of the tie, pulling my face closer to hers, giving me that mischievous grin.

"I'm just saying I'm no James Bond."

"Yet, you have secret, late-night, clandestine meetings."

"It's not that late," I said. "And, I don't think clandestine meetings happen at the Pacific Diner over coffee."

"Is that what you're doing?"

"Maybe."

"Are you being purposefully obtuse?"

"I'm being naturally obtuse."

"Well, don't," Cass said, brining her face closer to mine, almost touching, her lips hovering just off of mine. "It's not very becoming," she whispered, her breath cutting across my lips.

I tried to kiss her, but she pulled away.

She smiled at the shocked look I gave her and stepped away from me, unbuttoning the shirt she wore.

"You'll get that next time I see you," she said, as she took my shirt off and held it to the side.

"Tease," I said, and she threw my shirt at me.

I laughed, as I let my dress shirt fall to the floor and pulled my undershirt on, Cass walking past me and toward the bathroom.

"If everything works out like it should," I said, as I grabbed my dress shirt and started putting it on. "I'll explain everything."

"And, if it doesn't work out like it should?"

I turned to see her standing in the doorway to the bathroom, still naked, but the look on her face a mix of concern and curiosity.

"You'll probably hear about it then, too," I said. "Just not from me."