Before We Met(8)

‘The way I see it,’ he’d said over breakfast a couple of days after the initial approach, ‘it could be a huge opportunity.’ He’d paused in the middle of buttering a slice of toast, knife poised in mid-air. ‘I’ve been running DataPro since I was twenty-three – the idea of doing something else is exciting. Actually, it’s exhilarating. If we cash out, I could use the money to set up something entirely different. But, you know, I’m forty now, I’m married . . .’

‘Really?’

‘I am, yes.’

‘I had no idea. Lucky woman.’

‘Lucky or tolerant – depends who you ask.’ He smiled at her. ‘But I’d like to spend more time with you, less at the office. And perhaps there’ll be other people for me to take into account in the not-too-distant future . . .’

‘Other . . .? Oh.’ Suddenly there was a serious look in his eyes and she’d glanced away and reached for the coffee pot, taken aback by his intensity. She wanted children, she was pretty sure she did, but she was working up to the idea. She was still getting used to the fact that she was married – sometimes, when she was alone, she’d think about it and feel almost startled. How had it happened? Not much more than a year ago she’d been single.

‘So when do you think you’ll be back?’ she asked now. ‘Can you get on a flight today? Have you phoned the airline?’

‘Well, actually, that’s the thing. The guy I saw yesterday is keen to sign up with us, I think, but he wants me to meet his partner. He – the partner – has been in California this week so he wasn’t around yesterday or Thursday, but he’ll be in New York on Monday and he’s suggested we all meet then.’

‘Ah.’

‘I know. Yesterday I said I couldn’t, but having messed up the weekend anyway it makes sense now just to stay and do it, rather than making another trip, especially if I can get the thing signed there and then. They’re talking about Monday afternoon, so if I did that, I could get a red-eye and be home on Tuesday morning. Would you mind?’

‘Apart from the crushing disappointment?’ She laughed slightly, hoping to distract him from the fact that she really was disappointed. ‘No, don’t be ridiculous, you fool, of course I don’t mind. It makes sense. As you said, it might be a big contract.’

‘Significant enough to have a bearing on a potential buy-out offer, I think. If we were seen to have this sort of new business coming in, especially from a US company and especially at the moment . . .’

‘Then you’ve got to do it, haven’t you? And it’s just a couple of days – I’ll survive. Hey, now you’re at a loose end in New York for the weekend, you could give Ant and Roisin a ring, see if they’re around.’

‘Yeah, good idea, I might do that. Could you email me their number?’ She heard him take a sip of something and then the rattle of cup on saucer. One of his quirks, a dislike of mugs – she teased him about it. ‘Anything from Penrose Price yet?’ he asked.

‘No, and I’m trying to stop thinking about it. It won’t happen now.’

‘Keep the faith.’

‘No, it’s dead in the water. Onwards and upwards.’

‘Well, make sure you do something relaxing this weekend, won’t you? Don’t job-search.’

‘I won’t.’

‘Why don’t you go and see that Herzog double-bill at the BFI?’

‘No, you wanted to go to that, too; let’s try in the week, when you’re back. I might ring my brother, though, and see if he’s free for dinner.’

‘Okay, good idea. First things first here, I’m going to go to the gym and see if I can regain the use of my neck so I’m not walking round like Frankenstein’s monster all weekend.’ His voice dropped a couple of levels now, became more confidential. ‘I’ll miss you,’ he said. ‘Don’t make any plans for Tuesday – I’ll take the afternoon off if I can. We’ll do something fun.’



She dried her hair and put on some clothes then went back down to the kitchen and emailed him Ant and Roisin’s numbers. Maybe he could meet up with them for supper tonight or brunch tomorrow over in Cobble Hill; there was that place just round the corner from them that did the amazing eggs with paprika and sourdough toast. And those mimosas – God, she thought, she could drink one now. Booze during the day usually finished her off, but American Sunday brunch culture with its mimosas and bloody Marys was the civilised exception. It was one of the things she really missed about New York.