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'Nick and I are having dinner at the Mansion House.' She
hadn't been looking forward to eating at the Lord Mayor of
London's table with much enthusiasm; it would probably be a
stuffy evening with a lot of City financiers. But at least it meant
she had a good excuse for saying no to Sir Dermot.
'Which evening are you free before the next board meeting?'
he then asked, leaving her no option but, reluctantly, to make a
definite arrangement with him.
'Wednesday, then,' he said, ringing off, and Gina put down
the phone, sighing.
Sophie, who was working opposite her in the office, looked
up enquiringly. 'Problems?'
'Who hasn't?'
'Anything I can do to help?'
Gina smiled gratefully. 'Not really, but thanks for offering.'
She looked at her watch. 'I must run. I have a meeting with the
print workers' committee at eleven.'
They met in the boardroom if it was unoccupied, but this
morning Nick had a big meeting scheduled in there with the
heads of departments. The print workers were meeting
downstairs, in a large room used for recreational purposes
usually. It was fitted out with a pool table, darts boards, a
television and video player, armchairs, electronic arcade games
and a juke box. A cover could be fitted over the pool table so
that meetings could be held around it, and when Gina got down
there she found the men already seated with folders in front of
them.
They all stood up as she came into the room. 'I'm sorry I'm
late,' she breathlessly apologised. 'I got held up by a phone call
just as I was leaving.'
'That's all right, Mrs Tyrrell, we haven't started yet,' said the
committee secretary, shuffling his papers together.
Gina sat down, smiling around the table at the other men
who all smiled back. She got on well with them, had managed to
talk to each man privately, since these committee meetings had
begun, had got each talking about his family, his hobbies, his
interests, so that they were already not just faces or names to
her, but people she knew personally.
The secretary picked up a typed sheet which lay in front of
him. 'Have we all got a copy of this morning's agenda?'
Gina produced her own copy, running her eye down it to
refresh her memory. They were still arguing about the time and
motion studies Nick had had done, but there were positive issues
on the agenda as well. Several interesting suggestions were
coming up from this committee, even Nick had to admit that.
These men knew their jobs and had sensible ideas on how to
improve the way they worked.
'If you're ready to begin, Mrs Tyrrell?' the secretary said and
Gina nodded.
'First, I'd like to say that Mr Caspian was very impressed by
the proposal put up last month, on the new flexi-time rotas. He
accepted all your suggestions and asked me to congratulate you
and thank you.'
It wasn't precisely true. Nick hadn't asked her to congratulate
them, merely to tell them that he accepted their suggestions.
Privately he had told her he was impressed by their efficiency
input, but it was entirely Gina's decision to let the men know
how pleased Nick was with their ideas. He would probably be
afraid they might ask for more money!
On her way to lunch with Roz after the meeting, Gina met
Colette Tse outside the Torelli snack bar.
'Did you enjoy your dinner with Nick?' asked Colette with a
stiff, cool smile.
'Yes, did you enjoy yours?' Gina would have had to be blind
not to pick up the hostility in the other woman's smile. Colette's
slanting dark eyes glittered with black feeling. Jealousy?
wondered Gina, feeling faintly sick. Was Colette jealous of her
over Nick?
'Very much,' the features editor said shortly.
Gina didn't like to walk away, but she couldn't bear the way
Colette was looking at her.
She tried to change the atmosphere. 'Who was the blond guy
you were with? I didn't recognise him; does he work at Barbary
Wharf?'
'Yes.'
Trying to keep smiling, Gina persisted. 'What does he do?'
'Writes features.'
'Oh? What's his name?' Gina knew Colette was trying to
humiliate her, but she wasn't giving up yet.
Reluctantly, Colette said, 'Beren Lindell.'
'Unusual! Is he English?'
'Well, he isn't Chinese!' Colette said with a sting in her
voice, and Gina pretended to laugh.
'Not with that blond hair and blue eyes! It's just that I don't
recognise the name and Nick didn't seem to know him, either.'
Colette's glittering stare focused on her more sharply. 'You
and Nick were talking about us?' From her expression Gina
knew she had said the wrong thing.
'I asked Nick if he knew him, that's all, and he said he
thought he was vaguely familiar. Has he been with us long?' It
was heavy going, like trying to walk through glue, but Gina
went on trying because she was sure now that Colette felt
something pretty serious for Nick, even if he didn't know it, and
she was sorry for her. Nick had used her, for his own purposes;
to make Gina jealous. It had been a shabby trick, and Gina felt
as if it was her fault, too, she shared Nick's guilt: she couldn't
blame Colette for hating her. In Colette's shoes she would feel
the same.
'A few weeks. He hasn't made his mark yet, but I'm sure he
will. He's talented.'
'As well as sexy?' Gina laughed. Colette didn't.
'My interest in him is purely professional,' she said with ice
in her voice. 'Excuse me, I'm in a hurry to buy my sandwiches
and get back to eat lunch at my desk.' Her eyes contemptuously
made it clear that, while she was working while she ate, she sus-
pected Gina was going to be eating a long, leisurely and
expensive lunch at Pierre's. And the trouble was, she was right.
Gina wasn't working through her lunch-hour. She was meeting a
friend to gossip and chatter small talk.
She turned on her heel and went into Torelli's, and Gina
walked towards Pierre's, across the plaza, flushed and unhappy.
When Alessa told her that Nick was seeing Colette quite
often simply because she was writing a book about the Caspian
family, Gina had seen in a flash how Nick had manipulated the
situation. Realising she was jealous, he'd gone out of his way to
make it look as if he was dating Colette.
When she'd found out he had been playing tricks on her,
Gina had been furious, then, as the sting of jealousy faded, it
had amused her to plan a revenge. Alessa had promised not to
tell her brother she had warned Gina, then Gina only had to wait
for him to wave Colette's name in front of her before puncturing
his balloon with mockery.
It had been fun to plan, fun to see his face when he realised
she knew the truth. It hadn't even entered her head to look at the
situation from Colette's angle, but it should have done! She
should have realised Colette, too, might have misunderstood
Nick's interest in her, might have got hurt. How could Nick have
done it? Sometimes she despaired of ever understanding him
understanding any man!
Roz was already waiting for her, and waved from a table in a
corner. As Gina walked over there she passed Tom Birny, who
grinned up at her.
'Hi!'
She stopped. 'So you're back, too how are you, Tom? Did
you have a good time in Martinique?'
'Terrific! Can't you tell?' He tilted his sunburned face to the
light, and Gina laughed.
'Yes, you are brown, aren't you?'
He considered her. 'Where did the big white chief send you?
You have a nice tan yourself.'
'Egypt, but I tried to stay out of the sun as much as possible.
I've got the wrong sort of colouring for sunbathing.' She paused,
then asked, 'Got any more stuff on the East End Mafia?'
He shook his head. 'Apart from reporting the trial of the guys
who tried to get Nick Caspian, no, I think I've more or less
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