The Bluffing Game Read Online Free PDF Page B

monstrously large bed nearly as much as I would have if I’d had someone to share it with, but I did have to admit in the morning that I had slept extremely well. The bottle of champagne sat still sealed on the bedside table, next to the pile of still-wrapped chocolates from the pillows. Maybe I could enjoy a few of them with the champagne tonight after winning Sterling’s settlement for him and—surprise—rejecting his offer of an affair afterward.
    Hmm, bitter much? I had to admit it was true. He had built me up with sexy jazz foreplay, allowed me a knockout of a kiss, and had then run away. I supposed he was allowed to change his mind, especially when drunk, but I was allowed to change my mind just as sharply. I could imagine Nick’s voice if I told him over the phone that I had slept with a client, anyway. I would never have heard the end of it.
    I slept late and made myself breakfast in my room without caring whether anyone had hoped to see me before the meeting this afternoon. I dressed in my most severe pantsuit, put on my sharpest makeup, and donned dagger-like Prada heels courtesy of the wardrobe at my disposal. Then I sat in a comfortable leather armchair next to the fireplace, and read through the details of the case again. I had no reason to see Sterling outside of the meeting. We had already discussed everything yesterday. I pored over the pages, gleaning whatever details I could about the psychology of my opponents, looking for what they really wanted. Everything seemed just a little off, as if they had a level of confidence their shaky position simply didn’t entitle them to. That usually meant they were hiding something.
    Before I knew it, I looked at my watch and saw it was nearly time for the meeting. I reached for a chocolate to give myself one last mood boost and found that I had eaten them all while reading. This struck me as a bad sign, though I couldn’t explain precisely why. I got up from the chair, picked up my briefcase, and strode from the room with my game face on.
    I was unstoppable. I was I control. They were on the losing side. They had nothing to hold over me.
    I walked down the long hall, through the expansive living space, and into the meeting room, a geodesic sphere on the southern tip of the island, overlooking the ocean like the bow of a ship. Sterling and the opposing counsel already sat waiting at the circular table in the middle of the room, and I sat down without even giving Sterling a glance, instead sizing up the opposition. Two old men in suits who would underestimate me—I had met hundreds of them. And one young Chinese woman in a suit as severe as mine, unceasingly rubbing the very tips of her thumbs together as she gazed at a page on the table. She did not look up at me. She was the only real threat.
    “Good afternoon,” I said. “If you plan on attempting to settle out of court, the onus is on you to do so. My client has made many a generous offer already. What you haven’t done is made any clear indication of the terms that would fully appease you. In essence, you’ve refused to name your price. If you hope to settle, you ought to do so now.”
    The men in suits glanced at each other, surprised at my directness, my unwillingness to look away from them or back down in any way, show any kind of weakness. This was a hint that the bad publicity and investor withdrawal that would be brought by going to court no longer scared us. That was a bluff, but one I had confidence in. It was their trump card, and I pretended it meant nothing to us.
    The Chinese woman sat very quietly still touching her thumb tips together. She had not looked up at me.
    “I don’t think you quite understand the position you’re in,” one of the men said. The fact that he responded first meant he was either the most confident or the most intimidated. I bet on the latter.
    I smiled at him. “Enlighten me then.”
    “If we take you to court, your investors will bail. Your PR will tank. The