What a Smart Cookie!

"So," Mindy clarified, "let me make sure I've got this straight. You want to sell the formula for Fat Off to Schuyler Industries and then blow the whistle on our charming boss with the EPA."

"Correct," Fritz nodded with a jerk of his head. "That is precisely what I want to do. However, Bernard Morton forced me to sign a contract that ties my hands completely so unfortunately my plan will never come to fruition...unless I have someone to help me."

Mindy drained her martini glass. They were sitting in the Oak Room, Schuyler Square's nicest bar and a much better place to meet than in Fritz's apartment. At least, in Mindy's opinion. She could tell that the bald chemist had been disappointed when she had insisted they go to a public spot instead of his far too isolated bachelor pad. "What is it you want me to do?"

"I will give you a can of Fat Off. You will take it to Schuyler Industries and voila. We become instant millionaires."

"Why me? Why can't you do a Deep Throat kind of thing and contact the chemists at Schuyler Industries yourself?"

"What do you mean, 'deep throat?' I don't  understand."

"You know! Watergate--Richard Nixon--Fritz, you're older than I am. Didn't you see All the President's Men?"

"I grew up in Berlin. I am not a fan of American culture."

"Then why do you live here?"

"Because the pay is so good," Fritz replied. "As are the benefits. But I won't need pay or benefits once we sell the formula for Fat Off."

"I'm on board," Mindy announced. "I can't stand Bernard Morton and it sounds like he's done you dirt so I'd be glad to help you out." She shut her eyes as the bar began to spin. Good heavens, another few minutes and she'd be telling Fritz how Bernard wanted her to become his mistress! "When can I get a can of Fat Off?"

"Immediately." Bernard pulled a small aerosol can out of his hip pocket. "I caution you not to spray it indoors. The smell is still quite offensive."

"Wouldn't it be easier for you just to give me the formula? You did come up with the formula, didn't you Fritz? Why go to all this trouble?"

Fritz looked surprised. "Why, yes it would. What a smart cookie you are, Mindy."

A smart, drunk cookie. "You get that formula to me tomorrow and I'll do the rest," Mindy promised, "but I'm thinking we should find a bigger fish than Schuyler Industries. They're big locally but we should think more globally, if you get my drift. One of the major players and neither of us will ever have to worry about anything other than where we want to take our next vacation."

Fritz put a sweaty hand on top of Mindy's. "It would be my greatest pleasure to take one of those vacations with you, my little cupcake."

"Cool down, Fritz. We're business partners and nothing else. Got it?"

Fritz withdrew his hand. "If you say so, Mindy."

"I say so."

Brother! What was with all the men at Kutrate Kemicals? They treated Mindy like she was the newest version of Marilyn Monroe. It was flattering but it was also pretty creepy. "Get me the formula tomorrow," she ordered Fritz.

"You're wish is my command." Fritz leered at her. Mindy ordered one last martini.