‘I don’t mind going out of my way for you, Scarlett,’ he says. His voice is low and doesn’t sound like him.
A shiver runs the length of my spine.
‘Shall I meet you there in the morning?’ I ask to change the subject.
He nods and uses his upper back to push away from the wall that’s been propping him up. He crosses the road towards the car park and I finally breathe out.
2
My phone alarm begins with soft, calming music. As it grows louder, I fumble around, grabbing it from my bedside table. Just as the buzzer kicks in, I press Dismiss. Six-thirty.
I drag myself to the shower and clean up under the warm, soothing water. Just before I get out, I turn the water to freezing and put my face directly under the spray. Finally, my eyes feel fully open.
I dry my long hair into soft curls at the bottom and put on a small amount of eye make-up and blush. After tucking my blouse into my black pencil skirt, I put my patent heels in my handbag and slip on my flats.
It’s a couple of degrees warmer outside today than it’s been for the past week or so and I’m hot when I get off the Tube. The sun is seeping into my pale skin, making me regret my choice of charcoal silk beneath my mac and suit. The air is muggy and cars beep as I fight the traffic to cross the road with a handful of other suits, all rushing about their business. It’s one of the things people either love or hate about London: the fast pace, the congestion, the smog that can’t escape the high-rise buildings. I love it.
Making a quick stop at a coffee chain, I drain a cool sparkling water and change into my heels before meeting Jack.
In response to my greeting, he grunts and offers me an ill-humoured nod as he haphazardly finishes dressing in the street, adjusting the knot of his red tie and tucking the tails of his shirt further into his trousers.
My quick assessment of Jack confirms that he’s carrying nothing. This is going to be on me again. It’s eight twenty-five and I have little time to brief him on my research, which means he’ll expect me to dig him out of a hole when questions are asked. He smells of booze and cigarettes, a subtle stench that no longer surprises me. For a moment, I feel sorry for him; perhaps his wife leaving has hurt this time. My sympathy is fleeting.
We walk in relative silence to the company’s office. I offer a few important details as to the internet and technology work of our potential new client but I’m not sure Jack absorbs much, if anything at all. We step through the glass revolving door and into the lobby where my heels are loud against the marble floor, a sound that’s not lost despite the high ceilings of the atrium. A huge GJR Tower plaque sits on the wall to the side of the front desk. Scrolling through the list of twenty-eight floors, most of which are some variation of GJR companies, I see Eclectic Technologies listed on twenty-seven.
I’m hot and bothered by the time we reach our destination, the lift literally having stopped at every floor on the way up. My nerves build. Do not fuck this up!
‘Mr Jones. Miss Heath.’ A tall, aspirationally polished blonde woman steps towards us from behind her Eclectic Technologies reception desk. ‘Mr Lawrence and Mr Williams will be with you very shortly. I’ll take you through to the boardroom.’
Jack and I follow obligingly along the glass-paned corridor. Mahogany wood doors occasionally break the otherwise clear view of blue sky.
‘Can I get you a drink while you wait?’ the impeccable could-be model asks.
‘Coffee. Black. Two sugars.’ Jack’s words are stern, his eyes assessing the long legs in front of him, their insane length accentuated by four-inch heels.
I suppress my desire to vomit in response to Jack’s seedy demeanour. ‘A cold water would be fantastic, please.’
I can’t bear to make small talk, so I open my laptop and spread my printed research and handwritten notes around my place at the board table in silence. When I’m done, I distract myself with the view across London and the Thames rather than taking a seat.
‘Ready for this, Heath?’ Jack asks.
Irritation betrays my attempt to maintain a neutral tone, my increasing stress levels not assisting my ability to withstand his annoyingly casual attitude.
‘To be honest, Jack, I would probably feel more comfortable if I knew more about this deal and what you were expecting of me today.’
His silence tells me I’ve startled him.
‘Eclectic Technologies want to use us for a new acquisition,’ he finally snaps. ‘That’s what you do, Scarlett, isn’t it? Acquisitions?’ He’s angrier than reasonable or necessary.
I nod.
‘I haven’t told you anything because the deal is still highly confidential; I don’t know everything. They’ll expect us to sign a non-disclosure agreement before they tell us more.’ He sits up and straightens the lapels of his blazer, suddenly businesslike, professional. Some of my tension fades. ‘You just make sure you can flatter their egos and know their work. I’ll seal the deal.’
‘I can do that.’
‘This is a big deal for us, Scarlett. You won’t let me down, will you?’
He steps closer, leaning in as he speaks. My body responds, instinctively taking a step back. My discomfort only dissipates when the receptionist returns with our drinks.
