by SL Beaumont
Chapter 17
The train pulled in to London’s Charing Cross Station at nine-fifty the next morning. Stephanie stepped off lifting her small wheelie suitcase onto the platform. Somehow, despite her love of clothes, and shoes in particular, she had learned the art of packing lightly – probably from the years of sitting on her mother’s bed watching her pack as little as possible for their trips to England. She set the case down on the platform, extended the handle and walked away from the train towards the station, pulling it along behind her.
Charing Cross Station was still crowded at this time on a Friday morning. Stephanie made her way towards Embankment and onto the eastbound Circle Line platform.
She wrinkled her nose at the smell – a damp metallic scent mixed with sweat and perfume. Mmm – funny how I have gotten used to the fresh country air after only a few weeks, she thought. I never used to find this smell so offensive.
Her father’s office was located near Tower Hill. The Tube ride took around fifteen minutes – she was lucky enough to get a seat and popped her iPod on and zoned out for the journey.
The offices of Cooper, Reynold and Jones were in a modern low rise glass and concrete building on a busy corner. The area was a mixture of old and new London. A quaint old pub was on the opposite corner, next to a thirty-storey steel and glass structure that was home to an investment bank.
Stephanie wheeled her suitcase up the ramp entrance of the building and walked through the revolving glass door and into the sleek air-conditioned foyer. The atmosphere was one of quiet prosperity. The walls of the reception area were hung with expensive looking modern art, and pots containing tall indoor trees with shiny leaves were dotted around here and there. To one side was a small café with a coffee machine whizzing away quietly and the occasional clink of china as cups and plates were laid out. Comfortable chairs were clustered on both sides of the reception area and stacks of unread glossy magazines adorned the low coffee tables.
In the centre a large reception desk dominated, attended by three attractive young women all wearing telephone headsets. As Stephanie approached the desk, one of them looked up and smiled.
“Can I help you?” she said.
She must be new, Stephanie thought, she doesn’t know me.
“Yes I’m here to see Max Cooper, please,” Stephanie replied pleasantly.
The receptionist looked her up and down. Stephanie was suddenly conscious that her black skinny jeans tucked into burgundy boots with stiletto heels were well outside the corporate mould, despite the tailored red jacket and layers of necklaces. She grinned to herself.
“Is he expecting you?” the young woman asked.
“No, but I’m happy to wait if he’s not free,” Stephanie replied.
“Mr Cooper sees people by appointment only,” the receptionist said politely, as she clicked at the keyboard in front of her searching. “He has an opening next week.”
“He will see me,” Stephanie paused, enjoying herself. “I’m his daughter.”
The receptionist smiled. “Yes, of course, Miss Cooper. I will see if he is free.” She quickly tapped on her keyboard and spoke into her headset.
Stephanie leaned back and looked around the reception area. She groaned inwardly. There was Sam, leaning against the counter of the coffee shop, takeout in hand, laughing with two smartly dressed women. There was no avoiding him. Their eyes met at the same time. Sam excused himself and strode straight over.
“Stephanie,” he said, leaning over and kissing her cheek.
“Hi,” she replied, her inbred manners taking over, despite the fact that she was still really annoyed at him over the events of the previous weekend.
“His current meeting is about to finish, so you can go straight on up,” the receptionist interrupted them.
Stephanie smiled at her. “Thanks.”
She took the handle of her bag and started walking towards the bank of lifts hidden behind the reception desk by a partition. Sam fell into step beside her.
“I didn’t think I would see you this soon,” he said enthusiastically.
“Me neither,” she agreed. “I’m spending the weekend with Anna, so thought I’d take the opportunity to have lunch with Dad.” Why am I feeling the need to explain myself to him?
A bell announced the arrival of the lift. They waited for three people to get out, before Sam held his arm across the door allowing her to get in.
“Thanks,” she murmured. The silence was awkward as they rode the elevator to the 12th floor.
“Here we are,” Sam said brightly as the lift stopped. “Ah, Steph, you wouldn’t have time to have dinner with me while you are here? I feel bad for what happened last weekend and I’d like to make that up to you.”
“No sorry. I’m completely booked,” she smiled apologetically at him.
“I could join you and Anna – it would be great to see her again,” Sam suggested, his tone light.
“Girls weekend – you know,” Stephanie said making an excuse.
“Okay,” Sam said reluctantly. “But I’d like to catch up with you again soon.”
“Okay,” she stepped out of the lift and let the doors close on Sam.
She breathed a sigh of relief. That was a lucky escape, she thought. She hadn’t forgotten his part in her bust up with James. Still it was unlike Sam to be so persistent; he used to leave it to her to do the chasing. But maybe that was because he was used to her just saying yes, whenever he asked her out. And surprisingly, she really didn’t want to. After all the months of wanting him back, it dawned on her that she now suddenly didn’t. She felt a weight lift off her as she walked away from the lifts.
The partners’ floor was even more luxuriously decorated than the rest of the building. It was a hive of activity with people hurrying about with folders in their arms, telephones ringing and various meetings going on in the glass-fronted meeting rooms.
She had to walk the length of the floor to get to her father’s corner office. She stopped just short of the corner as she overheard loud voices coming from the partially open door.
“We have left this too long already,” a heavily accented male voice said somewhat impatiently.
“Yet we must exercise caution – if he gets wind of this, you can guarantee it will disappear or the deal will be called off,” Max Cooper’s steady clipped voice replied.
Stephanie hesitated; she didn’t want to interrupt one of her father’s meetings. She was about to go and wait by the lifts, when she heard the accented voice ask;
“What about your daughter – have you stopped her involvement?”
Stephanie took a sharp intake of breath and stepped backwards so that she was hidden behind a bookshelf. Daughter? What?
“Oh, yes. She was merely friendly with the youngest son, but that’s been taken care of,” her father said.
“Good. You don’t want her anywhere near the location when we drop in,” the foreign voice said.
What location? Stephanie was puzzled. I am missing something.
“Now, the rest of the team fly in tomorrow morning. We will come directly here at noon for a strategy meeting,” the man said.
Stephanie could hear the creak of furniture as the two men stood up. She looked around wildly and saw the door to the ladies toilets to her left. She quickly slipped inside holding the door slightly ajar, so that she could see whoever it was who left her father’s office.
The two men paused at the door to the office and shook hands.
“Thanks, Max. It will be good to finally get resolution on this one,” the other man said as he stepped into view.
He was well over six feet tall, with olive skin and short cropped dark hair. He was very muscular and wore a dark suit that pulled slightly on his broad shoulders, with a black t-shirt underneath. The way he carried himself screamed military. Stephanie shuddered.
“Yes, Eli. I will be happy to see that man behind bars,” Max agreed. They walked down the floor, past Stephanie’s hiding place, to the l
ifts.
Stephanie slipped out of the bathroom and quickly walked around the corner to her father’s personal assistant’s desk.
“Hi, Emily,” she said perching on the edge of the desk.
Emily looked up and smiled. The two chatted for several minutes until her father came back.
“Stephanie. What a lovely surprise. I didn’t know you were in London,” he said as he leaned over and kissed her cheek. He looked a little unsettled. “I didn’t see you waiting here.”
“Oh, you were busy with a client, so I chatted with Emily,” she replied lightly. If Emily saw any reason to contradict her, she didn’t show it.
“How long are you in London – are you staying at the house?” Max asked.
“No. I’m staying with Anna for the weekend,” she said. He’d obviously not heard about the incident with her car so she decided not to mention it. He had enough to worry about here. Besides, she was trying to convince herself it was just a prank. It was probably Victoria or one of her friends.
“That’s great,” he sounded relieved and quickly added. “I’m sure you must miss her, being down in the country. I mean you two have been inseparable every time you came to stay.”
Stephanie looked at him confused – how unlike her father to babble, he was normally such a succinct orator. “Do you have time for lunch, Dad?” she asked.
Max looked at his watch. “Just a quick coffee. I am due in court at noon.” To Emily he said, “I’ll be about twenty minutes.”
Max took Stephanie’s bag from her and they caught the lift back down to the coffee shop in the foyer. They ordered their drinks and sat opposite one another on a pair of leather armchairs, to drink them.
“Are you busy, Dad?” she asked.
“Always busy, sweetheart – you know that,” Max replied.
“Yes, but are you working on anything interesting?” she asked clumsily. She couldn’t quite work out how to ask who his client had been, without raising suspicion that she had overheard their conversation.
He eyed her carefully for a moment. “Oh, just various cases.”
Stephanie sipped her coffee as Max changed the subject. She screwed her nose slightly. The coffee wasn’t up to Andy’s standard.
“Have you seen Sam? He’s been asking about you,” Max asked smiling.
“Yeah, just before and no, Dad, I’m not going there again,” she replied.
Max raised his eyebrows, but said nothing. She was about to try a different line of questioning about his mysterious foreign client, when a man approached them and cleared his throat.
“Excuse me, Max,” he said.
Stephanie looked up and groaned inwardly. Vince Burgess worked for her father as a kind of private investigator. He was apparently very good at what he did, but he gave Stephanie the creeps. He was always popping up out of nowhere.
“Ah, Vince,” Max stood and shook his hand. Vince stood at attention, his close cropped hair emphasising his stocky build. “You remember my daughter, Stephanie.”
Vince glanced at Stephanie and nodded once. “I have that information you are after,” he said, returning his attention to Max.
“Great. Let’s head upstairs,” Max replied, his demeanour suddenly serious. “Sorry, darling. I have to go,” he said to Stephanie, leaning down and kissing her cheek. “See you in a few days?”
“Okay, Dad. Vince,” she smiled goodbye to the two men.
Stephanie sat in the foyer for a little while longer, finishing her drink and musing over what had just happened.
Why was she being discussed by one of her father’s clients? And what did he mean that her friendship with the younger son had been taken care of? Were they talking about a deal with the Knoxes – that would be a little strange, especially after the scene she had witnessed between her father and James’s grandfather and brother in the village a couple of weeks ago? What’s going on here?