by Penny Avis
‘It’s later this year,’ said Meredith, really wishing Audrey would leave. ‘We’ve not finalised the date yet. Right, coffees.’ She turned back to the machine. ‘I just press this one for white coffee?’ She knew it was a pretty stupid question, as the button on the coffee machine was quite clearly labelled ‘Coffee with milk’, but she needed to change the subject.
‘Yes, that’s right. Anyway, it’s lovely to see you again and I’m so pleased that everything is working out for you. Your nose looks very neat, like a little ski jump,’ said Audrey, admiring Meredith’s side profile.
‘Thanks. Look I really need to go,’ said Meredith. And soon, before someone comes in and hears you, she thought. She grabbed the first cup of coffee and hurried out of the kitchen, not daring to wait for a second cup. Their conversation had been way too long already.
She went back to Tom Duffy’s office and handed the coffee to Jackie.
‘Didn’t you want one?’ Jackie asked, looking confused.
‘No, I’m fine, thanks,’ said Meredith.
Tom came back into his office carrying the newly printed documents.
‘Here you go, all done. I’ve also got you a list of the information we’re getting our legal and financial advisers to prepare. They’re aiming to have reports ready for you in about three weeks’ time. Can you kindly discuss it with Equinox and check it covers everything they need?’
‘Of course,’ said Meredith, taking the list from Tom. It ran to several pages. She started to glance through it. About halfway down the page was a section entitled ‘Customer data’. In the section were about a dozen bullet points setting out the customer information that Beau Street would be providing to Equinox. Meredith looked at it in alarm. It was much more detailed than she’d expected. What if they found her name on the records?
‘That’s quite a lot of customer information you’re giving us,’ said Meredith, trying to look nonchalant.
‘It’s the lifeblood of our business,’ said Tom. ‘We can hardly expect Equinox to work out their offer without it.’
Jackie looked at Meredith quizzically. Meredith knew it was odd for her to question getting too much information. It was normally the other way round.
‘I was just thinking about, err, patient confidentiality,’ said Meredith. ‘We don’t want to look at anything we shouldn’t.’
‘Oh, don’t worry,’ said Tom. ‘We won’t release any medical files, only invoices and payment information. Our standard terms and conditions allow us to use that sort of information for business analysis purposes. Now, will you let me know if your client has any amendments to the list?’
Meredith left the meeting with Tom Duffy feeling rather shaken.
‘Are you okay?’ Jackie asked when they were in the lift. ‘You look a bit pale.’
Meredith nodded. ‘Bit tired, that’s all.’
‘Is there a problem with the data list? You didn’t look very impressed with it.’
‘I was just a bit surprised at how open they’re being.’
‘But that’s a good thing surely? Equinox will be pleased with that.’
Meredith knew that Jackie was right. It was good for Equinox, but it was pretty worrying for her.
That evening, Meredith spent a long time on the phone to Ryan. He was delighted that the management of Beau Street had agreed to consider their offer. He also thought that Meredith was worrying about nothing.
‘There’s no way they’ll find your name. They must have thousands of customers. All we’re interested in is the trends, not individual records. And so what if you saw one of the nurses who treated you? Sounds like you gave her a perfectly plausible reason for being there and she probably won’t give it a second thought.’
‘I know it’s not very likely, but I just can’t bear the idea of anyone finding out.’
‘It’s nothing to be ashamed of, you know. Hundreds of women are doing the same thing every day. I really don’t think you should worry about it.’
That was easy for him to say, but there wasn’t much she could do about it now. ‘When can you come over? It would be great to see you, plus we can take you through where we are on the valuation for Beau Street.’
Although they were in almost constant contact, Meredith had been missing the attention that Ryan lavished on her when he was over. Endless phone calls and flirty texts just weren’t enough.
‘I’ll come this weekend,’ said Ryan. ‘Does that give you enough time to finish the valuation? Then we can draft an offer letter to take back to our board at the same time.’
‘Really? Great! We’ll make time, don’t worry. And it’s only a high-level valuation at this stage.’
Meredith couldn’t wait for Ryan to arrive that weekend. The rest of the week seemed to drag. Alfred was busy ploughing his way through the valuation and Jackie was pulling together a contact list for everyone involved with the transaction on both sides, a pretty thankless task that Jackie tackled with her usual upbeat gusto.
Until the file corrupted, causing her to shout hysterically at her computer.
‘Gosh, don’t make such a fuss. There’ll be a backup,’ Meredith heard Hazel say in her usual no-nonsense style. She grinned to herself. Just another day at the office.
By Friday afternoon, Meredith’s patience had run out. She looked at her watch for the hundredth time: still only four o’clock. She had arranged to meet Ryan at The Brook Hotel at seven. As she sat tapping her fingers on the desk, wondering what to do to fill the time, Alfred wandered in with the first cut of the valuation.
‘Forty-eight million,’ he said matter-of-factly.
‘That much? Wow, I’m surprised,’ said Meredith, gesturing to Alfred to hand over the sheets of paper he was holding.
‘They’ve got a fair bit of debt, though: loans they took out to buy the building, new equipment, that sort of thing, which they’ll need to pay off. So after transaction fees and tax, I reckon the Beau Street management with shares will end up with about twelve million to divide between them.’
‘Well, that should get their attention,’ said Meredith. ‘Let’s hope their business is as good as it looks.’
Alfred spent the next hour talking Meredith through his calculations.
‘Looks good, very thorough,’ Meredith concluded. ‘Not that I’d expect anything else.’
Alfred puffed his chest slightly and grinned, clearly pleased with the praise.
‘Got any plans for the weekend?’ Meredith asked, but then instantly regretted it. She didn’t want to talk about her plans.
Fortunately Alfred didn’t seem to appreciate the social niceties of reciprocal questioning. ‘Florence and I are going to see a play about the Russian Revolution,’ he said.
‘That sounds interesting,’ said Meredith, thinking quite the opposite.
Alfred got up to leave, the polite chit-chat clearly over. Meredith followed his lead.
‘Right, thanks so much for that. Great progress. I’ll draft the offer letter now. Have a good weekend.’
Meredith was pleased that the task of drafting the offer letter for Beau Street would fill the time until she met Ryan. Plus she could get him to agree it over the weekend and get it over to Beau Street on Monday. She was sure that they’d be delighted with it.
After a couple of hours of hard drafting, Meredith finally escaped the office. She arrived at The Brook Hotel and made her way up to Ryan’s room, feeling a bundle of nervous excitement. He opened the door and instantly swept her into his arms, kissing her passionately.
‘You are truly a sight for sore eyes,’ he said admiringly when they finally came up for air. ‘Drink?’
Meredith nodded. ‘Vodka and tonic, if you have it.’
Ryan inspected the mini bar. ‘Your wish is my command.’
They sat chatting on the sofa until Ryan slid over towards Meredith and stroked her face, making her shiver. He rolled onto his side, wrapped his arms around her and gently pulled her towards him. They lay there kissing like teenagers for
what seemed like hours, then eventually stumbled to the bed still locked together.
Meredith awoke from a light sleep a couple of hours later. Ryan was out of bed and sitting at his laptop. He looked up as he heard her stir.
‘Hello, sleepy head. Looks like I wore you out,’ he said, grinning cheekily.
Meredith smiled. ‘I’m starving. Can we get something to eat?’
‘Sure, but I need to finish off here first. There are a few queries on the desk that I just need to deal with. They weren’t worth handing over.’
‘People in need of your marvellous advice,’ said Meredith, peering down at her own rapidly fading scars.
‘Exactly.’
Meredith sat up in bed while Ryan finished his emails, idly playing with a pencil that had been on the small bedside table next to her. Also on the table was Ryan’s passport. Meredith picked it up.
‘Right, let’s have a look at your photo then,’ she said, laughing.
Ryan looked up and groaned with embarrassment. ‘Do you have to? It’s awful.’
Meredith gleefully turned to the back and then howled with laughter. ‘Look at your hair! It’s huge. You look like an eighties pop star.’
‘Well, maybe I am an eighties pop star, masquerading as a cosmetic surgeon,’ said Ryan, laughing. ‘Now put it away.’
‘Oh, please, just one more look,’ said Meredith, flicking through the passport. Pretty much every page was full of entry and exit stamps. She looked up at Ryan in surprise. ‘Wow, you’ve been everywhere. I thought you’d been pretty much focused on the US market until now?’
‘We have, but you know our suppliers are all over the place,’ said Ryan quickly. He got up from the table and walked over to pick up his passport. He put it in his briefcase and snapped his laptop lid shut.
‘Shall we eat?’
‘Sure,’ said Meredith. Had she touched a nerve? If so, she had no idea why.
Chapter 12
Meredith and Ryan decided to eat in the main hotel restaurant. It was late by the time they were ready and Meredith didn’t feel like going far, so she persuaded Ryan it was the best option. As soon as they sat down and opened the menu, she knew it was a mistake. The menu was a flowing, beautifully written work of art that made every meal sound like it was created by a team of master craftsmen. Ryan wasn’t impressed.
‘Dover Sole in a cream sauce scented with Chartreuse. What the bloody hell is that? It sounds like a candle, not a plate of food. They’re just trying to make it sound posh so that they can charge you twice the price,’ he said, shaking his head.
‘The steaks look good,’ said Meredith hopefully. ‘And they serve the sauces on the side. Or they have roast chicken breast?’
‘Yes, but on a bed of polenta with a tarragon jus,’ said Ryan.
Meredith bit her lip and carried on studying her menu.
‘Can I get you a drink?’ asked the waiter who was looking after their table.
‘Large beer, please,’ said Ryan. Meredith added her order of a glass of wine.
‘Can I have this with chips instead of this polenta stuff?’ Ryan asked, holding the menu out towards the waiter and jabbing the offending chicken dish with his finger.
‘Of course, sir,’ said the waiter, making a note.
‘And no “jus” either, thanks,’ Ryan added.
‘Would you like a salad instead?’ the waiter asked. Ryan pulled a face and shook his head.
‘Could I have onion rings?’
‘I don’t think they have onion rings on the menu,’ said Meredith quickly. She smiled apologetically at the waiter.
‘I’m sure that our chef can make some for you, sir. Just give me a moment.’ The waiter hurried away in the direction of the kitchen.
‘Is it really necessary to make such a fuss?’ said Meredith.
‘Look, it’s just what I like. If I want to ask for something different then I will,’ said Ryan, then added under his breath, ‘Especially at these prices.’
They sat in silence looking at the menu until the waiter reappeared.
‘Yes, that’s all fine, sir.’
‘Great, thank you very much. Please pass my thanks to the chef,’ said Ryan, shooting an I-told-you-so glance at Meredith.
Once the food arrived, and was to Ryan’s liking, the mood between them improved markedly. The second glass of wine she was rapidly consuming made Meredith feel surprisingly chatty. As she told Ryan about her childhood, how she met Daisy and about the issues with her gallery, he sat listening intently with his chin resting on his hand.
‘Sounds like you have a few ideas that might help,’ he said.
‘I hope so,’ said Meredith. ‘You don’t have any big art connections by any chance, do you?’
Ryan shook his head. ‘Not my thing really.’
Now why didn’t that surprise her?
‘We’ve finished the first draft of the valuation for Beau Street,’ she said, heading back to safer territory. ‘First draft comes out at forty-eight million.’
‘Pounds or dollars?’
‘Pounds.’
Ryan shrugged. ‘That’s probably about what we were expecting.’
‘Good. We should try to agree the letter tomorrow.’
‘Okay. Then I’ll email it to Lawson and get him to approve it.’
‘On a Saturday?’
‘Don’t worry, that man never stops working. That way we can get the letter to them on Monday, assuming Charles can see us.’
‘Oh, I think he’ll see us alright. They stand to do very well out of it. We reckon that the management will take about twelve million from the deal. So that’s probably a couple of million each for Charles and the senior team, plus a few hundred thousand for each of the other doctors with shares.’
‘Not bad,’ said Ryan. ‘Not bad at all. Mind you, it’s a good business and a great platform for us to expand into the UK. It would take us years to build the customer base they have.’
Meredith nodded in agreement.
‘If they accept our offer then I’ll probably have to come over for quite a while, push the deal through, you know,’ said Ryan. He looked at Meredith purposefully and took one of her hands. ‘You’re my kinda girl, you know, lovely Meredith. Smart, sassy, funny, a bit feisty sometimes but… ’
‘Hey!’ Meredith said, laughing and pulling her hand away in mock horror. ‘And you were doing so well.’
‘Seriously, though, I think we’re good together, don’t you?’
Meredith was beginning to feel slightly concerned about what was coming next, so she just nodded noncommittally.
‘So I was thinking maybe I could stay with you next time I’m over?’
Meredith reeled slightly at the question. Yes, he’d mentioned it before, but she’d just taken it as a bit of a joke. She really wasn’t ready for him to stay with her, and it must have shown all over her face as Ryan instantly back-tracked.
‘Oh, look, don’t worry. It’s a stupid idea. And besides, I’ll need to show some expenses for the trip, otherwise work will know I’m up to something,’ he said, smiling awkwardly.
‘I love it that you want to stay with me, really I do. You know I think you’re a great guy. Maybe in a while I’ll be ready for that. But not just yet, okay? Let’s just see how things go. I’m one of those annoying people who really like their own space. And besides, I’m hardly ever there; I spend so much time in the damned office,’ said Meredith, trying to make light of the situation.
‘Well, your place looked rubbish anyway. No gym, no room service. I don’t know what I was thinking,’ said Ryan, following her lead. He signalled to the waiter, who was hovering near their table. ‘Could we have some more drinks, please?’
‘Certainly, sir,’ the waiter replied and scuttled off.
‘We might as well make a night of it,’ said Ryan, holding up his glass.
‘Hear, hear,’ said Meredith, clinking hers against it.
After dinner, they stumbled their way back to Ryan’s room.
<
br /> ‘I think I’m a bit drunk,’ said Meredith, hanging on to Ryan’s arm.
‘Well, I know I am,’ said Ryan. He started skipping sideways along the hotel corridor, pretending to shoot basketballs at the top of each hotel room door.
‘He shoots, he scores,’ shouted Ryan after a few imaginary attempts.
‘Shhhh!’ said Meredith, happy that the earlier awkward moment between them had been dissipated by the haze of alcohol.
They fell into Ryan’s room, giggling and pushing each other about like a pair of naughty schoolchildren. Meredith slipped into one of Ryan’s t-shirts, as had become the pattern when she stayed over, and then they went to bed. Within a few minutes, Ryan was fast asleep, the combination of jetlag and alcohol working its usual magic. Meredith tried to sleep but after about an hour of trying, she was overcome by the feeling that she wanted to go home. She wanted to wake up in her own bed, use her own bathroom and not have to put on yesterday’s clothes. She crept out of bed and got dressed, slipping on her dress and shoes. She put her tights in her bag, grabbed her coat and then wrote Ryan a note using the hotel pad and pen that was left on the desk.
Couldn’t sleep, so headed home. Will call you in the morning. M
She crept over to Ryan’s side of the bed and put the note on his bedside table, before throwing her coat over her arm, heading out of the door and walking to the lifts. Ryan’s room was on one of the executive floors of the hotel, which had its own restaurant, meeting rooms and, more importantly for Meredith, restricted access. She had forgotten that this meant she needed a hotel key-card to call the lift. Shit!
She went back to Ryan’s room and knocked quietly on the door. There was no response. She knocked again a bit louder.
‘Ryan, it’s me,’ she said in a half-whisper. ‘I need to borrow your key-card.’
She listened intently at the door but heard nothing. She knocked once more, as loudly as she dared, waited a few moments and then gave up. Ryan was clearly fast asleep. She’d just have to take the stairs, all twenty-six flights of them.
Meredith started her way down the stairs, her high heels tapping steadily on the concrete treads as she went. After making her way down four floors, she met a security guard on night patrol coming the other way.