‘No, I think we’ll get to that now,’ she says, pushing off from the glass wall. ‘What were you doing there?’ she demands, pointing her finger at the office floor with her eyes narrowed to glittering slits. Her purse begins to slide from her shoulder, and she hitches it higher, advancing like a villager in need of a pitchfork.
‘Must we keep going around this? I heard your pitch, and while I applaud your passion, frankly, I’m not interested in E-Volve.’
‘Your loss,’ she retorts, batting off the barb. But not before it stings.
‘Not at the moment, it isn’t. It’s yours. Your redundancies to effect. Your leases to break. Worst-case scenario? Creditors chasing you. Best? A return to the States with your tail between your legs.’
‘You know nothing about my business and even less about me.’
‘I know this business is all about connections. As I also understand that, without Luke, you might’ve waited months or not have been invited beyond this threshold at all.’
‘There are other companies. Other ways to finance.’
‘I’ve asked around, spoke to the companies you’ve approached. You didn’t have many takers. Why don’t you just admit that this was your one great hope.’
‘A hope you’ve stolen from me.’
‘Perhaps you should look closer to home when apportioning blame.’
‘My pitch was not the issue here,’ she almost growls, jabbing her finger in the air in my direction. I want to bite it, but I can’t afford to accede to whims.
‘No,’ I agree. ‘It was... cute.’
‘It was not cute. It was smart and professional. It was on point!’
‘Tell me, do you have a thing for tattoos?’
‘It was sexy!’ she almost yells, ignoring my question. But she’s right. It was a good pitch. And she made it sexy with her confidence and delivery. The way she had her audience in the palm of her hand.And the way her skirt fell to her knees, revealing nothing yet promising everything.
On reflection, I hope the latter was just my take on things.
‘It was...’ I reach up and run a considering hand over my jawline. ‘Of the moment.’
She accepts my condescension like a slap, recovering quickly.
‘Like that even means anything.’
‘It was Instagram worthy. All sparkle and no substance.’
‘You ...fucker.’ By her harsh fricative, I deduce she’d tried very hard not to curse.
‘Tell me, how is Luke adapting to his news of impending fatherhood?’
‘How would I know?’ she hurls back at me, her eyes skating away, perhaps unsure if she should come closer to cause me harm or cut her losses and run.
‘Hmm. He hasn’t yet made it to the office this morning, or else I’d call him in to ask.’
‘I don’t care—’
‘And if hewerehere, we could also ask him where I got your financials from.’
‘He wouldn’t . . . He didn’t.’
‘One could argue it’s his job. Due diligence, perhaps. Or a friend selling you out or trying to gain access to your underwear. Or the behaviour of a jilted, jealous would-be lover. It might be any of these.’
She takes two steps, dropping a battered leather satchel and her purse to the console table. Her palm press into the wood as she shakes her head, muttering words not meant for my ears. I hear her distrust and confusion anyway. But as her head comes up, and she turns, she mirrors my stance. With her bottom pressed against the console table, she folds her arms across her chest, effecting a relaxed demeanour. She’s a sea of calm, but for the way the toe of her shoe itches to tap.
‘You’re saying Luke is the reason JBW won’t be investing in E-Volve?’
