by Penny Avis
The conversation flowed freely for the rest of the evening, until both of them decided that it was time to leave before it got too late. They’d talked a lot about work, but also about their backgrounds and how each of them had ended up in their respective jobs. It had been fun and entertaining and Jamie was an attractive, interesting guy. But Meredith couldn’t help feeling a pang of disappointment that he hadn’t flirted with her, not even a little bit. She got the impression that he just saw her as a useful business contact.
They walked out of the bar into the freshness of the still evening air. Meredith inhaled deeply and pulled her jacket round her shoulders.
‘What a lovely evening,’ she said, looking at the sky.
‘Yes, it was,’ replied Jamie.
‘I meant the weather,’ said Meredith, laughing. ‘But I had a lovely evening too.’
She wanted to say that they should do it again soon, but somehow the words just wouldn’t come out.
‘Do you need a cab?’ Jamie asked.
‘Yes, thanks.’
Jamie flagged down a passing taxi and held the door open for her. He gave her a quick peck on the cheek as she stepped into the cab.
‘Good luck on Friday. Do let me know how you get on.’
‘I will. And don’t work too hard.’
Meredith watched Jamie disappear into the distance as the cab sped away and wondered what would happen next. He was difficult to read. Certainly compared to Ryan anyway, who’d been about as easy to read as a nursery school book written in extra-large print.
Chapter 26
The VuePharma oral presentations were being held at their London office and Clinton Wahlberg had been given an eleven o’clock slot, which had pleased Nick immensely.
‘Plenty of time for everyone to wake up, and before lunch. Perfect,’ he said, rubbing his hands, as they sat in the cab on the way to Vue’s office. ‘I’ve got a good feeling about this.’
‘How long have we got?’ Meredith asked.
‘An hour, and it’ll go in flash.’
But Meredith was beginning to feel like it was going to be the longest hour of her life. Her mouth was dry and her palms were sweaty with nerves. There were so many reasons she had to do well: it was her first big pitch since joining Clinton Wahlberg; she was presenting alongside her boss, who was a legend at winning new work; and even though she’d made her peace with him, she just had to prove Lars wrong. Plus although she’d been given loads of credit for bringing in the Beau Street deal, Meredith knew she didn’t deserve it. It hadn’t exactly been an arm’s-length, competitive process like this one. She’d just got lucky, or horribly unlucky, depending on how you looked at it.
Based on the last update she’d had from the lawyers, it looked certain that the Equinox–Beau Street deal was going to happen. That meant Clinton Wahlberg would be paid their success fee, which was great for her and the department’s results. But her relationship with Ryan had been a disaster, an emotional rollercoaster that had ultimately crashed spectacularly off the rails and left her dazed and confused. Fortunately the days of having to work with him were nearly over. She sighed and stared out of the cab window.
‘Feeling nervous?’ asked Nick.
‘Yeah, a bit,’ said Meredith, forcing a smile.
‘Don’t worry, we’ll be fine. We’ve put the work in and we know our stuff. That’s what counts,’ said Nick.
Once they arrived at VuePharma’s office, they were ushered into a large, empty meeting room. The projector was set up in front of a long U-shaped table and Alfred immediately busied himself connecting his laptop to the audio-visual system. It was part of the process that filled Meredith with dread, as there was nothing worse than failing at the first hurdle by not being able to work the technology. But with his usual efficiency, a few minutes later Alfred had their presentation up on the big screen.
‘Right, this is up and working too,’ said Alfred, handing Meredith a black handheld slide changer. ‘Press the up arrow to move on a slide and the down arrow to go back.’
‘Right, thanks,’ said Meredith, automatically flicking a few slides forwards and backwards just to make sure she’d got it, even though it was probably the simplest gadget she’d ever seen.
‘Now, when people start to arrive, you do the meet and greet, Meredith,’ said Nick. ‘Then how shall we get them to sit?’
‘I think there are four from the management team, plus a couple from ATG Bank: Stephen Braithwaite and Marcel Domini,’ Meredith walked around the inside of the table, studying the chair positions carefully. ‘So if we sit here on the right, show the management to these seats in the middle and get their advisers to sit on the left, that should work.’ A few moments later people started arriving in the room.
Patrick Fournier, VuePharma’s chief operating officer whom Meredith had met in Paris, arrived first with another member of the management team whom Meredith recognised from the photos they had studied as the chief executive, Peter Langford. They were shortly followed by the head of strategy, Amir Rahim, and the chief medical officer, Dr Orla Wiseman.
Meredith went straight over to greet them. ‘Patrick. Meredith Romaine from Clinton Wahlberg. How lovely to see you again. And you must be Peter Langford.’ She ushered them to the two most central seats.
Meredith repeated the process for everyone that came into the room, greeting them by name and guiding them to the relevant seats.
‘Ooh, you’re good,’ whispered Alfred to Meredith as he walked round to distribute bottles of water.
They were just about to settle down and start when a man Meredith didn’t recognise came into the room. He was tall, with thinning hair and narrow, black-rimmed glasses, and before Meredith could get to him, he quickly sat down next to Stephen and Marcel, the two advisers from ATG Bank, who were busy reading emails on their phones. He opened his briefcase, took out a notepad and pen and sat back expectantly. Meredith raised her eyebrows enquiringly at Alfred, who just shrugged and shook his head. He didn’t know who the man was either. Meredith looked to see whether any of the management team would greet him, hoping that might give her a clue as to who he was, but they just chatted amongst themselves and ignored him.
After a few moments Peter Langford looked up. ‘Right, are we ready to start?’ he asked, looking at his ATG advisers and then at Nick, who was standing next to his chair.
‘We are, if everyone else is,’ said Nick, looking around.
There was a series of nods from around the table. Nick gestured to Meredith to stand and the two of them took their place either side of the projector, ready to start their bilingual introduction. Meredith stared at the unknown man, searching for clues as to who he was. Sitting next to his chair he had an open-top briefcase that was full of newspapers. He was wearing a jacket and trousers, not a suit. Something about him just didn’t fit. Meredith couldn’t quite put her finger on it.
‘Hello, everyone. I’m Nick Rees, managing director of the healthcare team at Clinton Wahlberg. Firstly I’d like to thank you for inviting us to pitch for this exciting programme of –’
But before Nick could his finish sentence, Meredith interrupted him. ‘Sorry, Nick, I think we just need to finish our introductions to the others in the room first.’
Nick looked at her sharply. ‘I thought we’d done that.’
‘Um, no, not quite,’ said Meredith. She took a step towards the tall man in the glasses and held out her hand. ‘I’m so sorry, Meredith Romaine, Clinton Wahlberg. I don’t believe we’ve been introduced.’
‘Hello, Meredith. Frank Corsairs, Associated French Press. Nice to meet you.’ He shook Meredith’s hand and smiled warmly at the assembled faces.
The two advisers from ATG looked at each other in bemusement.
‘French Press? In what capacity are you here?’ asked Meredith.
‘I’m here for the briefing on quarterly results,’ said Frank, looking slightly alarmed by the reaction he was getting. He reached into his briefcase, pulled out a dog-eared pre
ss release and handed it to Meredith. ‘This is my invite.’
Meredith looked at the press release. ‘I’m afraid you’re in the wrong room.’
Patrick Fournier leapt from his seat and came round to join them. Meredith handed him the press release.
‘Yes, definitely in the wrong room. Let me take you back to reception,’ said Patrick, throwing an angry look at his advisers from ATG. Marcel Domini, who was a fair-haired man in his mid-forties and the older of the two, glared at Meredith as if it were all her fault, probably put out that his team hadn’t spotted the error first.
‘Gosh, I’m so sorry,’ said Frank, hastily gathering his belongings. ‘I’m sure this was the room number they gave me.’
‘Don’t worry, it’s not your fault,’ said Patrick. ‘There’s just been a simple mix-up.’
Nick stood motionless beside the projector looking horrified. He’d very nearly announced VuePharma’s confidential acquisition plan to the press.
Patrick returned to the room a few moments later. ‘The press briefing is in room fourteen, so how he ended up in eighteen I’ve no idea.’ He turned to Meredith. ‘Thank you for being so thorough. It just shows how easily these things can happen when there are so many people in the same room who don’t know each other.’
‘Well, we do take client confidentiality very seriously and I just wasn’t sure who he was, that’s all,’ said Meredith.
‘Yes, well, you’d have hoped that one of us might have noticed that,’ said Patrick pointedly. ‘Still, that’s a discussion for later. Shall we continue, without the press here this time?’
As everyone went back to their seats, Nick and Meredith turned their backs on the room and exchanged relieved glances.
‘That was close,’ whispered Meredith. ‘Well done you for checking,’ said Nick. ‘Right, let’s do this.’
Nick started his introduction again.
‘Okay, everyone, as I was saying, I’d like to thank you inviting us to pitch for this exciting programme of acquisitions that you’re planning to make over the next five years. It’s a bold and ambitious plan that clearly sets out how you intend to beat your competition. As your first acquisition target is based in France, we’ve assembled a team that we believe perfectly matches your needs.’
Meredith was immediately struck by how much confidential information there was in just his opening remarks. It would have taken only moments for Frank Corsairs to realise he was in the wrong room, but by then it would have been too late. They would have already told him the essence of Vue’s confidential plans. What a close shave. Meredith could see by the look on the management team’s faces that they felt the same way.
Nick nodded at Meredith, who took her cue and repeated his introduction in perfect French, taking the room by surprise. Peter Langford and Patrick Fournier exchanged amused glances and then gestured for them to carry on. Meredith could feel the mood in the room lighten, and as they finished the rest of their bilingual introduction, she knew that Alfred’s idea had worked. They’d certainly made an impression.
The rest of the presentation went very smoothly, and by the time they’d finished, Meredith was feeling confident that they’d done well.
‘So thank you for your attention and we’d be pleased to take any questions,’ said Nick.
Meredith looked at the management team expectantly, but instead Marcel Domini from ATG spoke first.
‘So can you give us some more examples of where you’ve acted for other businesses that are as large and complex as my client?’
‘Yes, we have plenty of other examples,’ said Meredith, smiling politely and ignoring his aggressive tone. ‘Alfred, could you kindly hand round copies of our credentials appendix.’
Alfred got up and handed out several sheets of paper to each person.
‘Perhaps you could talk people through it,’ Meredith said to Alfred, keen to bring him into the presentation.
As Alfred talked everyone through the additional sheets, his low, measured tone and incredible recall of facts soon had the management team nodding with approval. Clinton Wahlberg’s experience in this sector was first class and they had the data to prove it. Meredith could see by the flash in Alfred’s eyes every time he was asked a question that he was loving every minute of it. It was an intellectual challenge that nobody else in the room had any chance of winning. However, Marcel from ATG clearly wasn’t giving up.
‘Perhaps you could also demonstrate your expertise in this sector by giving us your view on the future trends. What do you see as the outlook for VuePharma in the Clinton Wahlberg crystal ball?’
Meredith and Alfred both immediately looked at Nick. Predicting future trends was notoriously difficult and risky. However, Nick seemed entirely unflustered by the question. He walked backwards and forwards across the room, like a university lecturer addressing a group of education-hungry students, as he set out his views on where the pharmaceutical sector was heading. As he talked about the competitive landscape, Meredith remembered Lars’s tip-off about Medisar. She waited for a slight break in Nick’s sermon.
‘And we are, of course, always keeping our ears to the ground for news about your competitors,’ said Meredith, stepping forward.
Nick turned to look at her in slight surprise, but when he saw she hadn’t finished speaking, he nodded at her to carry on.
‘For example, we think that it’s possible that Medisar is about to announce a very poor set of results for its last financial year, due to a combination of the patent expiring for Resolin and some high-value legal claims. If we’re right, that would make them vulnerable to a takeover. Now they’d be a big target for you, but with the right financial backing and a well-planned campaign with your shareholders, we think you could pull it off.’ Meredith looked at Peter Langford, the VuePharma chief executive, who was listening intently.
‘We knew Medisar had a few problems, but we didn’t think they were that big,’ he said, sitting back in his chair thoughtfully. He turned to Orla Wiseman. ‘Had you heard that?’
Orla shook her head. ‘I knew about Resolin coming off patent, obviously. We’ve been tracking that for a while. But as far as I knew, Medisar’s results were holding up well. They’ve got some great products, though. I’d certainly be interested in looking at them.’
‘That sounds to me like confidential information,’ said Stephen Braithwaite, looking at Meredith smugly. ‘Which is quite surprising, coming from a team who say that they take client confidentiality so seriously?’
‘No, it’s not confidential information. It’s a combination of keeping close to the internet chatter, watching share trading patterns and reading what the analysts say. The rumours are already out there in the public domain. You just need to know where to look.’ Meredith took the analysts’ report that Lars had given her out of her briefcase. ‘One of the top sector analysts has already looked at the possibility of Medisar being taken over by Vue.’ She dropped the bound document onto the table in front of Marcel and Stephen. ‘It’s all in there.’
Meredith looked at Alfred and couldn’t help grinning. That had told them!
After another ten minutes of tap dancing, the questions for them began to dry up and Peter Langford called an end to the session. Meredith worked her way through several rounds of polite handshakes and goodbyes apart from Patrick Fournier’s; he shook her hand vigorously and chatted to her in French. Meredith also noticed that Nick and Peter Langford stood talking together for quite a few minutes as everyone else did the rounds.
Finally they left the room and made their way out of the building. As they came out into the bright sunlight, Nick smiled broadly at Meredith and Alfred.
‘That went really well! Well done, guys – what a team. I think a celebratory lunch is in order. There’s a place I know just around the corner.’
Port Nine was an airy, modern restaurant serving an eclectic mix of British and Mediterranean cuisine. It was set in an old market square just a few minutes from VuePharma’s office that had
long since been converted into a series of trendy shops and restaurants. The circular, metal tables that adorned the cobbled areas outside were filled with people enjoying the rare chance of spending a lunch hour sitting in the sun. However, Nick opted for a table inside, preferring ‘not to have to squint his way through lunch’.
‘So what did Peter Langford say to you as we were leaving?’ asked Meredith once they had settled at their table.
‘Not that much really, just thanked us for our efforts, but I could tell he was really impressed – the chemistry was excellent. And Alfred, your idea about doing the introduction in French and English was inspired! Worked like a charm.’
‘Thanks,’ said Alfred, looking like he might burst with pride. ‘Those ATG guys were really out to get us, though. What was all that about?’
‘I think they were trying to make up for not realising we had a rogue guest in the room. Although it was Vue’s office, they were responsible for organising the whole thing, so they should’ve known who to expect,’ said Nick, shaking his head. ‘I have to say, Meredith, you gave me a bit of a fright when you stopped my introduction. I had no idea what you were doing.’
‘Me neither,’ said Alfred. ‘You’d rehearsed it so many times that I couldn’t quite believe you weren’t sticking with the plan.’
‘I know, but he just looked out of place, you know? And we’d been so careful to know who we were presenting to that it just seemed really odd that we didn’t recognise him,’ said Meredith.
‘Well, it’s a bloody good thing you did,’ said Nick. ‘And although it made for a slightly awkward start to things, it certainly got us off on the right foot with management. Anyway, you both did brilliantly. Now we just need to sit back and wait.’
Meredith and Alfred smiled at each other in delight.
‘When do we hear?’ Alfred asked.
‘Peter said they would make a decision in the next few days. I think they’re pretty keen to get on with it,’ said Nick. He looked around. ‘Right, where’s the waiter? We definitely deserve a glass of wine.’