Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 105183 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 526(@200wpm)___ 421(@250wpm)___ 351(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105183 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 526(@200wpm)___ 421(@250wpm)___ 351(@300wpm)
“Oh?”
I wave her interest off. “He just needs putting in his place every now and then.” I stand. “Another drink?” I should not get into a slagging match with a senior partner, no matter how tipsy she is.
Sue flings her arm in the air with her empty. “Fill me up.”
“I’ll order, then pop to the ladies’.” I head off, smiling, happy with how the evening has panned out, and very grateful for the insight and inside information.
I leave my order with the barman and use the loo before washing my hands, reapplying my lipstick, and checking my phone. “Fucking hell,” I whisper, scrolling through the endless texts and missed calls.
You’re out, apparently. Where?
Answer me, Amelia.
We’re not done.
For fuck’s sake, we need to talk.
Delete.
Delete, delete, delete.
I head back out, willing my heart to calm. It’s making me shake. I take a few controlled breaths at the bar as the barman loads the glasses onto a tray, digging deep. It’s been a great evening. I need to keep it together a little while longer. I take the tray and head back to the partners, laughing when I see Bob and Sue on the dance floor swaying to Jan Blomqvist’s “More,” their eyes closed.
“Old ravers,” Gary says, chuckling.
“I fear some very dodgy shots on the golf course tomorrow.” I lower to the chair next to him.
“Oh, the hangovers will be rotten. Always are. I don’t think we’ve played a game of golf sober in our entire working relationships.”
“Does Sue play?”
“She’s the best.”
“Oh, I love it.”
“Perhaps you should get yourself some lessons, Amelia,” he says, giving me a telling look.
“You think?” His words remind me that I still need to get my father sorted. I put it on my mental list of things to do, along with calling some agents to see if there’s anything new on the rental market.
“Oh, I definitely think. And I know Sue would love a bit of backup on the course.” His eyebrows waggle.
Is that code for backup in the boardroom too? “Maybe I will.” I smile around the rim of my glass, settling back in my chair, watching Sue and Bob on the dance floor.
“Can I offer some inside information?” Gary asks, sitting forward. I definitely detect a little slur. Not too much, but enough to tell me the drink is about to talk.
“Sure.”
“When . . . if you make partner, there’s a whole new world of rumours waiting for you.”
“Okay,” I say, trying not to get ahead of myself. The decision on if I make partner isn’t entirely Gary’s.
“There’s whispers,” he goes on, “of a merge between two of the big investment banks.”
“Oh?” I ask, interested, moving in closer. “Two that may feature heavily in some of my recommendations?”
“Indeed. I’m just throwing it out there, and they are just whispers at the moment, but you know there’s no smoke without fire.”
“Do I need to be reserved?”
“It could propel things, depending on how the banks’ boards handle PR. Or it could sink.” Which means one of the banks is struggling. “Just keep your ear to the ground and be ready to make some changes.”
“Got it.” I nod, my increasingly fuzzy mind wondering if Gary’s shared this information with anyone else. Like my adversary. “I appreciate your . . .” My words fade, my mouth dries, and I slowly rest back in my seat. Shit. Jude’s sitting at the end of the bar, his hand wrapped around a short glass, and he’s looking this way like he wants to kill someone. Fuck. His eyes pass over to Gary. Oh God, oh God, oh God.
I return my attention to my boss, who’s now chatting with some of the others. What the hell should I do? I can’t let Jude come over here. He doesn’t have a very good track record when it comes to dealing with me talking to other men. He could completely fuck up my entire night. And career.
“Excuse me,” I say, standing and collecting my clutch bag, breathing in deep and heading over to Jude before he can go all caveman on my boss. His fiery eyes follow me the entire way, and I don’t shy away, crying on the inside at the unholy perfection of him in some jeans and a black slim-fitted T-shirt, the material clinging to his toned torso and biceps. His thick hair is its usual beautiful mess. His face its usual gorgeous ruggedness.
I shake away my awe and get back to the matter at hand. Remember why you’re here, Amelia. Remember that he lied to you. I’ve had too much to drink to take on Jude Harrison, but just you try to stop me. “You said you hardly ever come here,” I say, my voice strong.
“I don’t.”
“So who told you I’m here?”
“It’s irrelevant.”
“Like you sleeping with Katherine is irrelevant?” God damn me, I did not want to fire that bullet, but as I stand here looking at him, struggling for reason and strength while also fighting off the inevitable effect of Jude on my senses, I’m getting worked up. Angry. He should have fucking told me, and, actually, he owed me that. I did deserve that information, so I could have at least been prepared when she inevitably warned me off.