by Penny Avis
When Meredith got up to leave for the day, Alfred was still at his desk. He had a huge pile of documents on one side of his desk and a stack of coffee cups on the other. The others whose desks were nearby had already left for the evening, making him rather a lonely sight. He looked up as she walked past.
‘Goodnight,’ she said, smiling kindly at him.
‘Goodnight,’ said Alfred without a hint of a smile. His eyes looked tired and bloodshot and his voice shook slightly as he spoke.
Meredith kept walking and got into the lift. It’s not my problem, she repeated to herself. It’s not my problem. That’s how it works here. But the image of Alfred’s tired face kept bouncing in front of her eyes.
‘Shit,’ said Meredith, shaking her head in annoyance. She pressed the open door button and got back out of the lift. Alfred looked up as she walked back in.
‘Left my pass,’ said Meredith, rolling her eyes. She went it to her office, hovered for a few moments and then came back out. She walked over to Alfred’s desk.
‘Everything okay?’
Alfred looked up in surprise and then shrugged. ‘Yeah, I’m alright.’
Meredith gestured towards the piles of papers and coffee cups. ‘Looks like you’ve got a lot on.’
Alfred nodded wearily.
‘I heard that thing with Lars earlier,’ said Meredith. ‘Have you taken on too much?’
Alfred put his head in his hands and said nothing.
‘Alfred?’ Meredith could see that his hands were shaking. She grabbed a chair from the adjacent desk and sat down next to him. ‘What is it? I can help you.’
Alfred looked up. ‘I just don’t know what to do next,’ he said, shaking his head. ‘It’s such a mess. I’ve got two deadlines tomorrow and I don’t think I’m going to make either. I’m normally so on top of things.’
‘I think perhaps you’re a victim of your own success. That’s what happens when you’re so good: people keep giving you things to do.’
Meredith took off her jacket and put it on the back of her chair. ‘Right, start at the beginning. Take me through everything you’ve got on.’
She spent the next hour running through Alfred’s to-do list and making phone calls. Where she could, she got deadlines moved back, and where she couldn’t, she rang others in their team and arranged for them to come in early the next morning to help him. One of the jobs on Alfred’s list was to prepare an in-depth profile of a healthcare business that Meredith had looked at before.
‘If you get the stats, I’ll write the summary for you,’ she said.
Alfred looked at her in amazement. ‘Really?’ Passing work upwards wasn’t exactly the norm at Clinton Wahlberg.
Meredith nodded. ‘Honestly, it’s not much. I know the business well. It won’t take me more than an hour or so.’
And besides, what with the briefcase incident and Ryan’s emergency presentation for the Equinox board, she owed him.
By midnight Meredith had finished the summary and Alfred was just about back on an even keel, albeit a rather tired one.
‘Thank you,’ said Alfred. ‘Sorry about all this. It won’t happen again.’
‘You need to start saying “no” more often – except to me, obviously.’ Meredith grinned at him. ‘Normal service will resume in the morning.’
The next day, Lars sent Meredith a rather curt email saying that he was surprised that she had intervened to change deadlines on his projects. She gave him a short explanation about needing to make sure her own project was getting the necessary attention from Alfred and left it at that. She could hardly fill him in on how Alfred had helped her and Lars was far more likely to believe that her own self-interest was at the heart of it.
On Saturday morning, Meredith woke late. Ryan had emailed to say that he had arrived safe and sound, and that he would see her at the cricket. She got up slowly and made herself a large mug of coffee that she carried around carefully as she perused the contents of her wardrobe. What to wear? Cricket was so easy for boys. They could just wear the standard uniform of beige trousers, white shirt and blue blazer. It was much more complicated for girls. Sexy and short was definitely not appropriate, but Meredith didn’t want to wear something dull and conservative either. She was far too excited about seeing Ryan. In the end, she chose a figure-hugging fawn shirt-dress with a thin leather belt and high cream wedges. The collar and short sleeves gave the dress an air of respectability and it was just about long enough.
Meredith arrived at the cricket early to make sure that she was there to greet Ryan. She was feeling slightly nervous about being with him, surrounded by so many work people, but she was going to have to get used to it, and quickly. The Clinton Wahlberg box was empty apart from a waiter, who was making final adjustments to the table settings.
‘Can I get you a drink? A glass of champagne perhaps?’ he asked, gesturing at the bottle already chilling in an ice bucket.
‘That would be lovely, thank you,’ said Meredith.
He poured Meredith a glass of champagne and she took it out onto the balcony overlooking the pitch. A few spectators were just beginning to make their way into the mainly empty ground. It was a fresh, sunny day and the smell of newly cut grass wafted in the air. Meredith inhaled deeply and looked around. Cricket fan or not, she had to admit it wasn’t a bad way to spend a Saturday.
Nick and his wife were the next to arrive. Hearing the door open, Meredith went back into the box. Nick had shunned the regular uniform and was dressed in a pair of dark-green casual trousers teamed with a tweed jacket, a white shirt and a widely striped beige and green tie that looked surprisingly trendy. Meredith guessed his wife had picked it for him. She was tall and willowy with wavy, fair hair and was wearing a very elegant cream shift dress.
‘Meredith, can I introduce you to my wife, Samantha,’ said Nick.
Meredith held out her hand. ‘Delighted to meet you.’
‘This is Meredith Romaine, a new director in our team. She just joined us a few weeks ago,’ Nick continued.
Samantha smiled at Meredith, her pretty oval face creasing with warmth.
‘Very nice to meet you too. I do hope you’re settling in well?’
‘Yes, very well, thank you,’ said Meredith. ‘Nick runs a great team.’
They stood chatting for a few minutes as other guests made their way into the box and made their introductions. Meredith was standing with her back to the door and she heard Ryan arrive before she saw him.
‘Hey, everyone, is this the Clinton Wahlberg box?’
Ryan addressed his question to the room at large, causing most people in the box to look round. He was holding an enormous foam finger and two large signs with the numbers four and six on them, and he had a small Union Jack painted on the side of his face. Meredith’s face fell in horror and there was a stunned silence among the other guests, followed by some stifled laughs. Meredith hurried over to greet Ryan, shortly followed by Nick.
‘Nick, this is Ryan Miller, managing surgeon at the Equinox Practise. Ryan, this is Nick Rees. He runs the healthcare team at Clinton Wahlberg.’
‘Delighted to meet you, Doctor Miller,’ said Nick, looking rather bemused at Ryan’s attire. ‘Are you, err, a big cricket fan?’
‘Please, call me Ryan. No, never been before. Baseball’s more my game. But thought I’d better get in the spirit. The guy running the stall outside told me that this is what all the fans have. He did tell me when to wave them, but I’m afraid you may need to remind me as the rules seemed a bit complicated.’ Ryan waved his foam finger above his head. ‘I do remember that we wave this one when someone gets out. The umpire gives him the finger, right?’
Meredith cringed with embarrassment. What was he thinking! Fortunately Nick seemed to find it very funny.
‘Well, yes, that’s broadly right, if they need to make a decision. Sometimes it isn’t necessary if, say, the person has been bowled out,’ said Nick, laughing.
‘Whatever that means,’ said Ryan cheerful
ly. ‘Anyway, sure you guys can remind me. Thanks so much for inviting me, by the way.’
Despite his good humour, Meredith didn’t think that Nick was likely to remind Ryan about his waving duties very often.
As they sat down for lunch, Meredith tried to ignore the amused glances being cast in Ryan’s direction. She was sitting next to Ryan, who had Nick’s wife, Samantha, on his other side. On Meredith’s other side was Paul Howden, the chief operating officer of a pharmaceuticals company, who was a rather sweaty, bespectacled man in his late forties. He was deep in conversation with the lady on his right, giving Meredith and Ryan the chance to talk briefly.
‘Very patriotic,’ said Meredith, looking at the Union Jack on the side of his face.
‘Unlike the rest of you,’ said Ryan, looking round. ‘It’s not exactly what I’d call a party atmosphere.’
‘This is a corporate box. What did you expect?’ Mind you, she had to admit he still looked pretty hot, Union Jack or no Union Jack. Meredith lowered her voice. ‘It’s great to see you.’
Ryan smiled and put his hand on her leg under the table. ‘You too.’
‘How was your flight?’ Meredith asked, reverting to normal volume.
‘Yeah, not bad. Not feeling the jetlag too much yet. I’ll probably need to have a lie down later, though,’ said Ryan, raising his eyebrows slightly.
Meredith looked down at her plate and stifled a laugh. Samantha turned to join their conversation.
‘Where have you flown in from?’ she asked Ryan.
‘Chicago. I’m here on business. We’re on the acquisition trail and Clinton Wahlberg is helping us with the search.’
‘Do you travel much?’ Samantha asked.
‘Yes, quite a bit actually,’ Ryan replied. ‘I love Europe, particularly Paris.’
‘Oh, me too,’ said Samantha, nodding.
‘The Hotel du Jour is probably one of my favourite hotels in the world. Do you know it? Small but perfectly formed,’ said Ryan.
Meredith was slightly surprised by this flow of conversation; she hadn’t expected Ryan to be so well travelled. She knew that Equinox hadn’t looked to buy outside the US before. Perhaps Ryan travelled to give lectures. But before she could ask, Paul Howden tapped her arm.
‘Glass of wine?’ he asked, holding a bottle of white wine in readiness over her glass. He then engaged her in a very long and dull conversation about the trials and tribulations of getting approval for new drugs.
Meredith finally managed to escape when the waiter came round to serve the main course, allowing her to sit back and change the direction of conversation back towards Ryan.
‘Excuse me, madam,’ said the waiter, carefully placing her food in front of her. He then moved along and proceeded to do the same for Ryan.
Ryan stopped talking and looked at his plate: a breast of chicken in a mushroom and wine sauce, new potatoes and green beans. ‘I don’t eat meat with sauce on it,’ he said, picking up his plate and handing it back to the waiter. ‘Can I just have plain grilled chicken, thanks.’
Although it was technically a question, Ryan didn’t wait for an answer. He just turned back to continue his conversation with Samantha as if he had just asked for a glass of water. Meredith was mortified. How rude! She smiled apologetically at the waiter, who just gave her a knowing look and reversed away with Ryan’s plate. He continued serving everyone else, and then returned a few minutes later with a plain chicken breast for Ryan. The kitchen had probably just scraped the sauce off and then put it back under the grill, which would serve Ryan right for being so fussy. He received his new plate with a cursory nod and turned to Meredith.
‘So, who’s favourite to win, England or Pakistan?’
‘“Thank you” would’ve been polite,’ hissed Meredith, nodding towards the waiter, who was topping up drinks further round the table.
Ryan looked surprised and then shrugged. ‘Guess so, but he’s gone now. And anyway, I can’t stand all those creamy sauces. Meat is meat, and is best served just as it is.’
‘Apart from ketchup, obviously,’ said Meredith.
‘Well, obviously apart from ketchup,’ agreed Ryan, entirely missing the sarcasm in her voice.
Meredith bit her lip. She could hardly tell him off like an irritated girlfriend. In everyone else’s eyes he was a client and she needed to treat him like one.
Much to Meredith’s relief, the rest of the afternoon passed fairly uneventfully. Apart from leaping up to wave his foam finger every now and then, Ryan was the epitome of charm. He flattered the ladies, listened earnestly to description of the rules of cricket from the men and regaled the group with stories of baseball. A few of the other guests even followed Ryan’s lead by waving his ‘4’ and ‘6’ signs at the appropriate moments, much to the amusement of the rest of the group. Nevertheless, Meredith was happy when it was time to go.
Nick stood by the door, shaking everyone’s hands as they left. ‘Thank you for coming,’ he said to Ryan. ‘It was great to meet you, and I look forward to working with you over the coming weeks. When is your meeting with Beau Street?’
‘Tuesday morning,’ said Ryan. ‘That’ll give me time to go through the excellent pack that your guys prepared for me. And thanks for having me. I had a blast.’
‘Well, good luck. I hope they see the potential in your approach,’ said Nick.
‘I’ll show Ryan where to catch a cab,’ said Meredith.
Nick nodded in approval, and Meredith and Ryan made their way out of the box.
‘So where now?’ Ryan asked.
‘Sshh, someone might hear you,’ said Meredith, looking around nervously. ‘Let’s just go and find a cab, shall we.’
‘Fine,’ said Ryan, grinning at her jumpiness.
They walked through the corridors of the cricket hospitality area and out of the ground in silence. Not the most relaxing day she’d ever had. This mixing business with pleasure thing was going to be harder than she thought.
Chapter 8
Once Meredith and Ryan were out of the cricket ground they walked for a few minutes until they were safely out of sight and then Meredith flagged down a black cab.
‘Where to?’ the cabbie asked.
Meredith and Ryan looked at each other. Ryan raised his eyebrows.
‘Where would you like to go?’ he asked.
‘I think that’s up to you, isn’t it? It depends how jetlagged you feel. We could have dinner if you like, or I could drop you back at your hotel,’ said Meredith. She would much rather he invited her back to his hotel than just presume that’s what he wanted.
‘Well?’ said the cabbie, irritated by their indecision. Ryan leant forward.
‘The Brook Hotel, please.’ He sat back and put his arm round Meredith. ‘Let’s just order room service and watch movies, shall we?’
Meredith’s residual irritation over the ‘no sauce’ incident quickly evaporated. She tucked herself under his arm and lay back with her eyes shut. Ryan twirled her curly hair round and round his finger and yawned.
‘I’m shattered,’ he said. ‘Bath and a club sandwich for me, I think.’
‘Ooh, you crazy party animal,’ said Meredith without opening her eyes. She was tired too.
They spent the rest of evening just as Ryan had predicted. They ordered room service, argued over which movie to watch and went to bed early.
The next morning Meredith left the hotel after breakfast and headed home to shower and change, having arranged to come back later and take Ryan on a tour of St James’s Park. Packing an overnight bag just seemed a step too far right now. And besides, there was something decadent about heading home in yesterday’s clothes.
While she was at home Daisy rang. She was excited to hear that Ryan was over and demanded a blow-by-blow account of what they’d been up to.
‘So apart from the face painting, the array of silly props and the weird sauce fetish thing, is he still as gorgeous?’ Daisy asked, amused by the whole cricket story.
‘Yes,
sadly. Can’t keep my hands off him, despite all that.’
‘You’ve got to look beyond your cultural differences. They’re just part of the rich tapestry of life.’
‘What utter crap. Annoying habits more like. Anyway, how are you?’
‘Not great actually,’ said Daisy with a sigh. ‘The gallery is still really struggling. I’ve tried having a few events – you know, preview nights, that sort of thing. But they don’t seem to have made much difference and I don’t think I can afford to advertise. I might even have to let Finn go. Is that offer of help still open? I really don’t know what to do next!’
‘Of course it is!’ said Meredith. ‘Ryan leaves at lunchtime on Tuesday, so why don’t I come to the gallery after that, say late afternoon. I’ll be out of the office already, so I can easily blag a few hours off. Then we can go through your books together, see what’s what.’
‘Okay, great. Not that I think there’s much you’ll be able to do.’
‘I’m sure we can work it out,’ said Meredith. She had no idea how, but she was determined to try.
Come mid-afternoon on Monday, Meredith had left the office and was on her way back to meet Ryan. They were meeting Charles Sutton from Beau Street the next morning and they needed to prepare. Ryan answered the door of his hotel room dressed only in a pair of shorts. She was laden down with papers and files, whereas Ryan was holding a beer.
‘I thought we were preparing for tomorrow.’ Meredith stomped into the room and dumped her heavy load on the desk. ‘How am I meant to concentrate with you dressed like that?’
Ryan put his arms around her and pulled her towards him. ‘Oh, don’t worry, we’ll be fine. I’ll just give them some old chat about our business and we’ll take it from there. I’ve got more important things on my mind right now.’
Meredith pushed him away. He might be relaxed, but she wanted this to go well. If the Equinox board were keen on the business then they should give it their best shot.