Chapter 4: Lunch Rules

He was at the same orange table when I got there, with two bowls of soup already waiting.

"Tomato," Tobias said. "I guessed you didn't have a preference."

"I don't."

"That's what I guessed."

I sat down across from him and did not touch the spoon.

I had practiced on the walk over.

"I need to ask you something," I said. "And it needs to be a deal."

"All right."

"My manager has put my promotion on a warmth review."

"If I don't look warm by December, a man with perfect teeth gets my desk."

He listened with his whole face, the way he had in the courtroom.

I found it hard to continue, but I did.

"You can read me. Nobody else can. I want you to tell me when my face says one thing and my words say another."

"Like a translator."

"Yes."

"For free?"

"No. That's why it's a deal."

I took a blank sheet out of my bag and set it on the table.

"You're freelance, and freelancers always have gaps in their coverage."

"Bring me your policy and I'll mark every gap in it."

He looked at the blank page, then at me.

"You want to read my insurance," he said.

"I'm an adjuster. It's what I do instead of small talk."

For the first time since I had met him, Tobias Rudd laughed.

It was low and a little surprised, and his whole face moved with it, forehead and cheeks and eyes.

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