Page 19 of Who’s That Girl?

‘Is everything OK?’ Larry Thompson looks over at me, his brow creased with concern.

‘Um … yes, fine,’ I reply politely, taking a gulp of water.

Well, what else am I supposed to say? Did you just stick your hand up my skirt?

Although, that’s what I would have said when I was younger. I never stopped to think before I opened my mouth in those days – I would say exactly what was on my mind.

But now things are different. I’m different. I’m not some impulsive, headstrong twentysomething with nothing to lose. I’m a thirtysomething professional woman with everything to lose. Like my reputation, and a really important contract, I remind myself. I can’t just start hurling accusations and causing a scene. Just think of all the possible repercussions.

Sitting bolt upright, I take a couple of slow breaths and concentrate on composing myself. Plus, I could have easily made a mistake. Things aren’t always what they seem, I tell myself, my mind flicking back to that incident at the lights. It was probably just the tablecloth brushing against my leg or something. In fact, the more I think about it, the more I’m positive that’s what happened.

‘Wow, the food is delicious, isn’t it?’

I snap back to see Larry Thompson smiling amiably at me.

‘Oh … um … yes, delicious,’ I reply.

Disconcerted, I turn back to my main course and continue eating. Only my appetite has disappeared and I’m relieved when a few minutes later the waitress comes to take our plates away.

‘Coffee? Dessert?’ she asks.

‘No, I’m fine, thanks,’ I reply, shaking my head. My earlier shiny delight at having won the account seems to have lost its sheen somehow. I know I should be over the moon, but I can’t get that bugging feeling out of my head about what just happened. Or what I thought just happened, I correct myself quickly.

‘Not for me either.’ He beams, leaning back in his chair and fixing me with a satisfied smile. ‘Coffee is the number-one cause of tooth discolouration.’

‘Really?’ I say faintly.

‘So, now that’s sorted, we need to get down to business.’ Laying his manicured hands on the tablecloth, he looks at me intently. ‘Figure out a game plan.’

‘Definitely.’ I perk up, relieved to be focusing back on business. I start running through the many lists in my head. ‘When were you wanting to make an announcement to the press? Obviously the sooner we get the word out there, the more time we will have to start generating press, building momentum …’

‘Totally.’ He nods. ‘Well, let’s see …’ He glances at his phone. ‘I leave for the States next Wednesday, so how about Tuesday?’

I look at him in disbelief. ‘A week today?’

‘Is that a problem?’ He throws me a look that leaves me in no doubt that if it is a problem, he’ll find a PR company for whom it isn’t.

‘No, of course not,’ I quickly reassure him, while thinking of all the work I’m going to have to do, all the extra hours I’m going to have to put in to get things ready. I can already feel the pressure piling on top of my shoulders.

‘Excellent.’ He smiles with the confidence of a man who doesn’t have problems. He has shiny white teeth, a perfect tan and a prime-time show on American TV. And he plays golf with Academy Award-winning actors, according to one of his press cuttings. ‘So you’re up for the challenge?’

‘Absolutely.’ I sit more upright and throw back my shoulders. Honestly, what’s wrong with me? I love challenges. And I want this contract. This is my big opportunity. ‘As I said before, Merryweather PR might be a smaller agency, but that works in our favour because we can give you a lot more personal attention,’ I say with renewed enthusiasm.

‘I like the sound of that,’ he replies, a smile playing on his lips.

‘So have you secured a location for the clinic?’ I say briskly, ignoring a feeling of discomfort and forging ahead through my list.

‘Almost,’ he replies, and leans back in his chair. ‘I’ve had a location guy scouting for the right space for a while now and we’re down to two. Usually I go with my gut on things.’ He gestures towards me. ‘But in this case I’m not really feeling it.’

‘Maybe I could offer some input?’ I suggest.

‘That would be awesome,’ he enthuses. ‘I’m flying to Brussels tomorrow for an international conference on the latest break-throughs in cosmetic dentistry, but I’m back the next day.’

‘Great.’ I nod, pulling out my phone and scrolling through my diary. ‘What time were you thinking?’

‘Well, I’m pretty busy all day with designers.’ Suddenly I get a horrible feeling where this is going. ‘How about in the evening? Dinner maybe?’

I was so hoping he wasn’t going to say that.