For a moment Jack Harper looks taken aback – then he raises his eyebrows.
“Sure. Go ahead.”
I walk into the room, take a deep breath and look him straight in the eye.
“Mr Harper, I know what you want to see me about. I know it was wrong. It was an error of judgement which I deeply regret. I’m extremely sorry, and it will never happen again. But in my defence…” I can hear my voice rising in emotion. “In my defence, I had no idea who you were on that plane ride. And I don’t believe I should be penalized for what was an honest genuine mistake.”
There’s a pause.
“You know, a lot of people would call that fraud,” says Jack Harper, leaning back in his chair.
“I know they would. I know it was wrong. I shouldn’t have… But it doesn’t affect the way I do my job. It doesn’t mean anything.”
“You think?” He shakes his head thoughtfully. “I don’t know. Going from a C grade to an A grade… that’s quite a jump. What if we need you to do some math?”
“I can do maths,” I say desperately. “Ask me a maths question. Go on, ask me anything.”
“OK.” His mouth is twitching. “Eight nines.”
I stare at him, my heart racing, my mind blank. Eight nines. I’ve got no idea. OK, once nine is nine. Two nines are–
No. I’ve got it. Eight tens are 80. So eight nines must be–
“Seventy-two!” I cry, and flinch as he gives a tiny half-smile. “It’s seventy-two,” I add more calmly.
“Very good.” He gestures politely to a chair. “Now. Have you finished what you wanted to say or is there more?”
I rub my face confusedly. “You’re… not going to fire me?”
“No,” says Jack Harper patiently. “I’m not going to fire you. Now can we talk?”
As I sit down, a horrible suspicion starts growing in my mind.
“Was…” I clear my throat. “Was my CV what you wanted to see me about?”
“No,” he says mildly. “That wasn’t what I wanted to see you about.”
I want to die.
I want to die right here, right now.
“For various reasons,” says Jack Harper slowly, “I would prefer it that nobody knows I was in Scotland last week.” He meets my eyes. “So I would like it very much if we could keep our little meeting between ourselves.”
“Right!” I say after a pause. “Of course! Absolutely. I can do that.”
Extract 5
The next day, Connor is off to a meeting first thing, but before he goes he digs out an old magazine article about Jack Harper.
“Read this,” he says, through a mouthful of toast. “It’s good background information.”
I don’t want any background information! I feel like retorting, but Connor’s already out of the door.
I’m tempted to leave it behind and not even bother looking at it, but it’s quite a long journey from Connor’s place to work, and I haven't got any magazines with me. So I take the article with me, and grudgingly start reading it on the tube, and I suppose it is quite an interesting story. How Harper and Pete Laidler were friends, and they decided to go into business, and Jack was the creative one and Pete was the extrovert playboy one, and they became multimillionaires together, and they were so close they were practically like brothers. And then Pete was killed in a car crash. And Jack was so devastated he shut himself away from the world and said he was giving it all up.
And of course now I read all this I’m starting to feel a bit stupid. I should have recognized Jack Harper. I mean, I certainly recognize Pete Laidler. For one thing he looks – looked – just like Robert Redford. And for another, he was all over the papers when he died. I can remember it vividly now, even though I had nothing to do with the Panther Corporation then.
***
“Now everyone!” Paul comes striding up behind him. “Mr Harper is going to be sitting in on the department this morning.”
“Please.” Jack Harper smiles. “Call me Jack.”
“Right you are. Jack is going to be sitting in this morning. He’s going to observe what you do, find out how we operate as a team. Just behave normally, don’t do anything special.”
“Just ignore me,” says Jack Harper pleasantly, as he sits down in the corner. “Behave normally.”
Behave normally. Right. Of course.
So that would be sit down, take my shoes off, check my emails, put some hand cream on, eat a few Smarties, read my horoscope on iVillage, read Connor’s horoscope, write ‘Emma Corrigan, Managing Director’ several times in swirly letters on my notepad, add a border of flowers, send an email to Connor, wait a few minutes to see if he replies, take a swig of mineral water and then finally get round to finding the Tesco leaflet for Artemis.
I don’t think so.
***
“It’s very quiet in here,” says Jack Harper, sounding puzzled. “Is it normally this quiet?”
“Er…” We all look around uncertainly at each other.
“Please, don’t mind me. Talk away like you normally would. You must have office discussions.” He gives a friendly smile. “When I worked in an office, we talked about everything under the sun. Politics, books… For instance, what have you all been reading recently?”
“Actually, I’ve been reading the new biography of Mao Tse Tung,” says Artemis at once.
“I’m in the middle of a history of fourteenth-century Europe,” says Nick.
“I’m just re-reading Proust,” says Caroline, with a modest shrug. “In the original French.”
“Ah.” Jack Harper nods, his face unreadable. “And… Emma, is it? What are you reading?”
‘Um, actually…’ I swallow, playing for time.
I cannot say Celebrity Doodles – What Do They Mean? Even though it is actually very good.
Quick. What’s a serious book?
“You were reading Great Expectations, weren’t you, Emma?” says Artemis. “For your book club.”
“Yes!” I say in relief. “Yes, that’s right–”
And then I stop abruptly as I meet Jack Harper’s gaze.
Inside my head, my own voice from the plane is babbling away innocently.
“…just skimmed the back cover and pretended I’d read it…”
“Great Expectations,” says Jack Harper thoughtfully. “What did you think of it, Emma?”
I don’t believe he asked me that.
For a few moments I can’t speak.
“Well!” I clear my throat at last. “I thought it… it was really… extremely…”
“It’s a wonderful book,” says Artemis earnestly. “Once you fully understand the symbolism.”
Shut up, you stupid show-off. Oh God. What am I going to say?
“I thought it really… resonated,” I say at last.
“What resonated?” says Nick.
“The… um…” I clear my throat. “The resonances.”
There’s a puzzled silence.
“The resonances… resonated?” says Artemis.
“Yes,” I say defiantly. “They did. Anyway, I’ve got to get on with my work.” I turn away with a roll of my eyes and start typing feverishly.
OK. So the book discussion didn’t go that well. But that was just sheer bad luck. Think positive. I can still do this. I can still impress him–
“I just don’t know what’s wrong with it!” Artemis is saying in a girly voice. “I water it every day.”
She pokes her spider plant and gazes at Jack Harper winsomely. “Do you know anything about plants, Jack?”
“I don’t, I’m afraid,” says Jack, and looks over at me, his face deadpan. “What do you think could be wrong with it, Emma?”
“…sometimes, when I’m pissed off with Artemis…”
“I… I have no idea,” I say at last, and carry on typing, my face flaming.
OK. Never mind. It doesn’t matter. So I watered one little plant with orange juice. So what?
“Has anyone seen my World Cup mug?” says Paul, walking into the office with a frown. “I can’t seem to find it anywhere.”
“…I broke my boss’s mug last week and hid the pieces in my handbag …”
OK. Never mind. So I broke one tiny mug, too. It doesn’t matter. Just keep typing.
“Hey Jack,” says Nick, in a matey, lads-together voice. “Just in case you don’t think we have any fun, look up there!” He nods towards the picture of a photocopied, G-stringed bottom which has been up on the noticeboard since Christmas. “We still don’t know who it is…”
“…I had a few too many drinks at the last Christmas party …”
OK, now I want to die. Someone please kill me.
“Hi, Emma!” comes Katie’s voice, and I look up to see her hurrying into the office, her face pink with excitement. When she sees Jack Harper, she stops dead. “Oh!”
“It’s all right. I’m simply a fly on the wall.” He waves a friendly hand at her. “Go ahead. Say whatever you were going to say.”
“Hi Katie!” I manage. “What is it?”
As soon as I say her name, Jack Harper looks up again, a riveted expression on his face. I do not like the look of that riveted expression.
What did I tell him about Katie? What? My mind spools furiously back. What did I say? What did I–
I feel an internal lurch. Oh God.
“…we have this secret code where she comes in and says, ‘Can I go through some numbers with you, Emma?’ and it really means ‘Shall we nip out to Starbucks…’”
I told him our skiving code.
I stare desperately at Katie’s eager face, trying somehow to convey the message to her.
Do not say it. Do not say you want to go over some numbers with me.
But she’s completely oblivious.
“I just… erm…” She clears her throat in a businesslike way and glances self-consciously at Jack Harper. “Could I possibly go over some numbers with you, Emma?”
Extract 6
How can this day have gone so wrong already and I haven’t even sat down yet?
I dump my bag and jacket at my desk, hurry back down the corridors to the lifts, and press the Up button. A moment later, one pings in front of me, and the doors open.
No. No.
This is a bad dream.
Jack Harper is standing alone in the lift, in old jeans and a brown cashmere sweater.
Before I can stop myself I take a startled step backwards. Jack Harper puts his mobile phone away, tilts his head to one side and gives me a quizzical look.
“Are you getting into the elevator?” he says mildly.
I’m stuffed. What can I say? I can’t say “No, I just pressed the button for fun, haha!”
“Yes,” I say at last and walk into the lift with stiff legs. “Yes I am.”
The doors close, and we begin to travel upwards in silence. I’ve got a knot of tension in my stomach.
“Erm, Mr Harper,” I say awkwardly, and he looks up. “I just wanted to apologize for my… for the, um, shirking episode the other day. It won’t happen again.”
“Emma, can you keep a secret?”
“Yes,” I say apprehensively. “What is it?”
Jack leans close and whispers, “I used to play hookey too.”
“What?” I stare at him.
“In my first job,” he continues in his normal voice. “I had a friend I used to hang out with. We had a code, too.” His eyes twinkle. “One of us would ask the other to bring him the Leopold file.”
“What was the Leopold file?”
“It didn’t exist.” He grins. “It was just an excuse to get away from our desks.”
“Oh. Oh right!”
***
The doors open, and my stomach gives a lurch.
Connor is standing on the other side.
As he sees Jack Harper his face lights up as though he can’t believe his luck.
“Hi there!” I say, trying to sound natural.
“Hi,” he says, his eyes shining with excitement, and walks into the lift.
“Hello,” says Jack pleasantly. “Which floor would you like?”
“Nine, please.” Connor swallows. “Mr Harper, may I quickly introduce myself?” He eagerly holds out his hand. “Connor Martin from Research. You’re coming to visit our department later on today.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Connor,” says Jack kindly. “Research is vital for a company like ours.”
Connor gives me an excited grin.
“You’ve already met Emma Corrigan from our marketing department?” he says.
“Yes, we’ve met.” Jack’s eyes gleam at me.
“How are we doing for time?” says Connor. He glances at his watch and in slight horror, I see Jack’s eyes falling on it.
Oh God.
“…I gave him a really nice watch, but he insists on wearing this orange digital thing …”
“Wait a minute!” says Jack, dawn breaking over his face. He stares at Connor as through seeing him for the first time. “Wait a minute. You’re Ken.”
“I’m sorry!” Jack hits his head with his fist. “Connor. Of course. And you two – ” he gestures to me “–are an item?”
Connor looks uncomfortable.
“I can assure you, sir, that at work our relationship is strictly professional. However, in a private context, Emma and I are… yes, having a personal relationship.”
“That’s wonderful!” says Jack encouragingly, and Connor beams, like a flower blossoming in the sun.
“Well, I’m sure you’ll be very happy together,” Jack Harper says to Connor. “You seem very compatible.”
“Oh we are!” says Connor at once. “We both love jazz, for a start.”
“Is that so?” says Jack thoughtfully. “You know, I can’t think of anything nicer in the world than a shared love of jazz.”
He’s taking the piss. This is unbearable.
Extract 7
As I near my desk, Artemis looks up from a copy of Marketing Week.
“Oh Emma. I was sorry to hear about you and Connor.”
“Thanks,” I say. “But I don’t really want to talk about it if that’s OK.”
“There’s a message for you from Jack Harper, by the way.”
“What?” I start.
I didn’t mean to sound so rattled. “I mean, what is it?” I add more calmly.
“Could you please take the–” She squints at the paper. “–the Leopold file to his office. He said you’d know what it was. But if you can’t find it, it doesn’t matter.”
I stare at her, my heart hammering in my chest.
The Leopold file.
It was just an excuse to get away from our desks…
It’s a secret code. He wants to see me.
***
The family day is happening at Panther House, which is the Panther Corporation’s country house in Hertfordshire.
I follow the sounds of music and walk round the house to find the event in full swing on the vast lawn. Brightly coloured bunting is festooning the back of the house, tents are dotting the grass, a band is playing on a little bandstand and children are shrieking on a bouncy castle.
“Emma!” I look up to see Cyril advancing towards me, dressed as a joker with a red and yellow pointy hat. “Where’s your costume?”
“Costume!” I try to look surprised. “Gosh! Um… I didn’t realize we had to have one.”
“You people! It was on the memo, it was in the newsletter…” He takes hold of my shoulder as I try to walk away. “Well, you’ll have to take one of the spare ones.”
“What?” I look at him blankly. “What spare ones?”
“I had a feeling this might happen,” says Cyril with a slight note of triumph, “so I made advance provisions.”
He chivvies me into a tent, where two middle-aged ladies are standing beside a rack of… oh my God. The most revolting, lurid man-made-fibre costumes I’ve ever seen.
“No,” I say in panic. “Really. I’d rather stay as I am.”
“Emma, this is a fun day,” snaps Cyril. “And part of that fun derives from seeing our fellow employees and family in amusing outfits. Which reminds me, where is your family?”
“Oh.” I pull the regretful face I’ve been practising all week. “They… actually, they couldn’t make it.”
Which could be because I didn’t tell them anything about it.
***
“Connor, look, I’m sorry I’m late.”
“That’s all right,” he says stiffly, and starts chopping a bundle of mint as though he wants to kill it. “So, did you have a nice time the other evening?”
That’s what this is all about.
“Yes, I did, thanks,” I say after a pause.
“With your new mystery man.”
“Yes,” I say, and surreptitiously scan the crowded lawn, searching for Jack.
“It’s someone at work, isn’t it?” Connor suddenly says, and my stomach gives a small plunge.
“Why do you say that?” I say lightly.
“That’s why you won’t tell me who it is.”
“It’s not that! It’s just… look, Connor, can’t you just respect my privacy?”
“I think I have a right to know who I’ve been dumped for.” He shoots me a reproachful look.
***
“There she is! Emma! Cooee!”
That sounded just like my mum. Weird. I stop briefly, and turn round, but I can’t see anyone.
It must be a hallucination. It must be subconscious guilt trying to throw me, or something.
“Emma, turn round! Over here!”
Hang on. That sounded like Kerry.
I peer bewilderedly at the crowded scene, my eyes squinting in the sunshine. I can’t see anything. I’m looking all around, but I can’t see–
And then suddenly, like a Magic Eye, they spring into view. Kerry, Nev, and my mum and dad. Walking towards me. All in costume. Mum is wearing a Japanese kimono and holding a picnic basket. Dad is dressed as Robin Hood and holding two fold-up chairs. Nev is in a Superman costume and holding a bottle of wine. And Kerry is wearing an entire Marilyn Monroe outfit.
What’s going on?
“Mum… What are you doing here? I never – I mean, I forgot to tell you.”
“I know you did,” says Kerry. “But your friend Artemis told me all about it the other day, when I phoned.”
I stare at her, unable to speak.
I will kill Artemis. I will murder her.
“So what time’s the fancy dress contest?” says Kerry, winking at two teenage boys who are gawping at her. “We haven’t missed it, have we?”
“There… there isn’t a contest,” I say, finding my voice.
“Really?” Kerry looks put out.
I don’t believe her. This is why she’s come here, isn’t it? To win a stupid competition.
“You came all this way just for a fancy dress contest?” I can’t resist saying.
“Of course not!” Kerry quickly regains her usual scornful expression. “Nev and I are taking your mum and dad to Hanwood Manor. It’s near here. So we thought we’d drop in.”
“We’ve brought a picnic,” says Mum. “Now, let’s find a nice spot.”
“Um, the thing is,” I say in sudden inspiration, “the thing is, actually, I won’t be able to stay. We’ve all got duties to do.”
“Don’t tell me they can’t give you half an hour off,” says Dad.
“Emma’s the linchpin of the whole organization!” says Kerry with a sarky giggle. “Can’t you tell?”
***
All I can do is stare dumbly down at my plate, telling myself this can’t last for ever. Dad and Nev have made about a million jokes about Don’t Mention Connor. Kerry has shown me her new Swiss watch which cost 4,000 and boasted about how her company is expanding yet again. And now she’s telling us how she played golf with the chief executive of British Airways last week and he tried to head-hunt her.
“They all try it on,” she says, taking a huge bite of chicken drumstick. “But I say to them, if I needed a job…” She tails off. “Did you want something?”
“Hi there,” comes a dry, familiar voice from above my head.
Very slowly I raise my head, blinking in the light.
It’s Jack. Standing there against the blue sky in his cowboy outfit. He gives me a tiny, almost imperceptible smile, and I feel my heart lift. He’s come to get me. I should have known he would.
“Hi!” I say, half-dazedly. “Everyone, this is–”
“My name’s Jack,” he cuts across me pleasantly. “I’m a friend of Emma’s. Emma…’ He looks at me, his face deliberately blank. “I’m afraid you’re needed.”
“That’s a shame!’ says Mum. “Can’t you at least stay for a quick drink? Jack, you’re welcome to join us, have a chicken drumstick or some quiche.”
“We have to go,” I say hurriedly. “Don’t we, Jack?”
“I’m afraid we do,” he says, and holds out a hand to pull me up.
“Sorry, everyone,” I say.
“We don’t mind!” says Kerry with the same sarky laugh. “I’m sure you’ve some vital job to do, Emma. In fact, I expect the whole event would collapse without you!”
Jack stops. Very slowly, he turns round.
“Let me guess,” he says pleasantly. “You must be Kerry.”
“Yes!” she says in surprise. “That’s right.”
“And Mum… Dad…” He surveys the faces. “And you have to be… Nev?”
“Spot on!” says Nev with a chortle.
“Very good!” says Mum with a laugh. “Emma must have told you a bit about us.”
“Oh… she has,” agrees Jack, looking around the picnic rug again with a kind of odd fascination on his face. “You know, there might be time for that drink after all.”
I watch in total disbelief as Jack settles comfortably down on the rug. He was supposed to be rescuing me from all this. Not joining in. Slowly I sink down beside him.
“So, you work for this company, Jack?” says Dad, pouring him a glass of wine.
“In a way,” says Jack after a pause. “You could say… I used to.”
“Are you between jobs?” says Mum tactfully.
“You could put it like that, I guess.” His face crinkles in a little smile.
“Oh dear!” says Mum sympathetically. “What a shame. Still, I’m sure something will come up.”
Oh God. She has absolutely no idea who he is. None of my family has any idea who Jack is.
“So, Jack,” she says sympathetically as she hands him a paper plate. “Are you getting by financially?”
“I’m doing OK,” Jack replies gravely.
Mum looks at him for a moment. Then she rummages in the picnic basket and produces another Sainsbury’s quiche, still in its box.
“Take this,” she says, pressing it on him. “And some tomatoes. They’ll tide you over.”
“Oh no,” says Jack at once. “Really, I couldn’t–”
“I won’t take no for an answer. I insist!”
“Well, that’s truly kind.” Jack gives her a warm smile.
“You want some free career advice, Jack?” says Kerry, munching a piece of chicken.
My heart gives a nervous flip. Please, please don’t try to get Jack to do the successful woman walk.
“Now, you want to listen to Kerry,” puts in Dad proudly. “She’s our star! She has her own company.”
“Is that so?” says Jack politely.
“My own travel agency,” says Kerry with a complacent smile. “Started from scratch. Now we have forty staff and a turnover of just over two million. And you know what my secret is?”
“I… have no idea,” says Jack.
Kerry leans forward and fixes him with her blue eyes.
“Golf.”
“Golf!” echoes Jack.
“Business is all about networking,” says Kerry. “It’s all about contacts. I’m telling you, Jack, I’ve met most of the top businesspeople in the country on the golf course. Take any company. Take this company.” She spreads her arm around the scene. “I know the top guy here. I could call him up tomorrow if I wanted to.”
I stare at her, frozen in horror.
“Really?” says Jack, sounding riveted. “Is that so?”
“Oh yes.” She leans forward confidentially. “And I mean, the top guy.”
“The top guy,” echoes Jack. “I’m impressed.”
“Perhaps Kerry could put in a good word for you, Jack!” exclaims Mum in sudden inspiration.
“You’d do that, wouldn’t you, Kerry love?”
I would burst into hysterical laughter. If it wasn’t so completely and utterly hideous.
“I guess I’ll have to take up golf without delay,” says Jack. “Meet the right people.” He raises his eyebrows at me. “What do you think, Emma?”
I can barely talk. I am beyond embarrassment. I just want to disappear into the rug and never be seen again.
“Mr Harper?” A voice interrupts and I breathe in relief. We all look up to see Cyril bending awkwardly down to Jack.
“I’m extremely sorry to interrupt, sir,” he says, glancing puzzledly around at my family as though trying to discern any reason at all why Jack Harper might be having a picnic with us.
“But Malcolm St John is here and would like a very brief word.”
“Of course,” says Jack, and smiles politely at Mum. “If you could just excuse me a moment.”
As he carefully balances his glass on his plate and gets to his feet, the whole family exchanges confused glances.
“Giving him a second chance, then!” calls out Dad jocularly to Cyril.
“I’m sorry?” says Cyril, taking a couple of steps towards us.
“That chap Jack,” says Dad, gesturing to Jack, who’s talking to a guy dressed in a navy blazer.
“You’re thinking of taking him on again, are you?”
Cyril looks stiffly from Dad to me and back again.
“It’s OK, Cyril!” I call lightly. “Dad, shut up, OK?” I mutter. “He owns the company.”
“What?” Everyone stares at me.
“Are you saying that guy is Jack Harper?” says Nev in disbelief.
“Yes!”
There’s a flabbergasted silence. As I look around, I see that a piece of chicken drumstick has fallen out of Kerry’s mouth.
“So how the hell do you know Jack Harper?” says Nev.
“I… I just know him,” I colour slightly. “We’ve worked together and stuff, and he’s kind of become a… a friend.” I say quickly, as Jack shakes the hand of the blazer guy, and starts coming back towards the picnic rug. “Just act the way you were before…”
Oh God. Why am I even bothering? As Jack approaches, my entire family is sitting bolt upright, staring at him in awe-struck silence.
“Jack!” exclaims Kerry, who has regained her composure. She gives him an ingratiating smile and thrusts out her hand. “Good to meet you properly.”
“Absolutely!” says Jack. “Although… didn’t we just meet?”
“As professionals,” says Kerry smoothly. “One business-owner to another. Here’s my card, and if you ever need any help with travel arrangements of any sort, please give me a call. Or if you wanted to meet up socially… perhaps the four of us could go out some time! Play a round? Couldn’t we, Emma?”
I stare at her blankly. Since when have Kerry and I ever socialized together?
“Emma and I are practically sisters, of course,” she adds sweetly, putting her arm round me.
“I’m sure she’s told you.”
“Oh, she told me a few things,” says Jack, his expression unreadable. He takes a bite of roast chicken and starts to chew it.
“We grew up together, we shared everything.” Kerry gives me a squeeze and I try to smile, but her perfume is nearly choking me.
“Isn’t that nice!” says Mum in pleasure. “I wish I had a camera.”
Jack doesn’t reply. He’s just giving Kerry this long, appraising look.
“We couldn’t be closer!” Kerry’s smile grows even more ingratiating. She’s squeezing me so hard, her talons are digging into my flesh. “Could we, Ems?”
“Er, no,” I say at last. “No, we couldn’t.”
Jack’s still chewing his chicken. He swallows it, then looks up.
“So, I guess that must have been a pretty tough decision for you when you had to turn Emma down,” he says conversationally to Kerry. “You two being so close, and all.”
“Turn her down?” Kerry gives a tinkling laugh. “I don’t know what on earth you–”
“That time she applied for work experience in your firm and you turned her down,” says Jack pleasantly, and takes another bite of chicken.
I can’t quite move.
That was a secret. That was supposed to be a secret.
“What?” says Dad, half laughing. “Emma applied to Kerry?”
“I… I don’t know what you’re talking about!” says Kerry, going a little pink.
“I think I have this right,” says Jack, chewing. “She offered to work for no money… but you still said no.” He looks perplexed for a moment. “Interesting decision.”
Very slowly, Mum and Dad’s expressions are changing.
“But of course, fortunate for us here at the Panther Corporation,” Jack adds cheerfully. “We’re very glad Emma didn’t make a career in the travel industry. So I guess I have to thank you, Kerry! As one business-owner to another.” He smiles at her. “You did us a big favour.”
Extract 8
I crane my neck so I can see over everyone’s heads, and my eyes focus on the screen – and there he is. Sitting on a chair in a studio, in jeans and a white T-shirt. There’s a bright blue backdrop and the words ‘Business Inspirations’ behind him, and two smart-looking interviewers sitting opposite him.
There he is. The man I love.
“What have they asked him so far?” I murmur to Artemis.
“They’re talking to him about how he works. His inspirations, his partnership with Pete Laidler, stuff like that.”
“Sssh!” says someone else.
“Of course it was tough after Pete died,” Jack’s saying. “It was tough for all of us. But recently…” He pauses. “Recently my life has turned around and I’m finding inspiration again. I’m enjoying it again.”
A small tingle runs over me.
He has to be referring to me. He has to be. I’ve turned his life around! Oh my God. That’s even more romantic than ‘I was gripped’.
“You’ve already expanded into the sports drinks market,” the male interviewer is saying. “Now I believe you’re looking to expand into the women’s market.”
“What?”
There’s a frisson around the room, and people start turning their heads.