Page 56 of Audacity

She throws back her head and laughs. ‘You’re so right! I did. But some guys get off on that. It gives them extra Big Dick Energy to swagger into a meeting, knowing they’ve just railed their assistant. Itgives theman edge. That’s not you.’ She jabsme in the pec. ‘You’d let everyone walk all over you if you went in there having just shot your load.’

I scowl at her, which is childish, but I’m absolutely not about to admit that she’s right. (Probably even more childish, come to think of it.)

‘Instead,’—she licks her lips sensually—‘you should walk in there thinking about the kind of prize you might get later if you smash the meeting. And bysmash, I mean following your own agenda and not letting anyone else railroad you with theirs. I’ve told you before, I make anexcellenttrophy.’

It’s with Athena’s seductive promise ringing in my ears and far too much unresolved “edge” still coursing through my veins that I lead her into the main conference room down the corridor. The room is empty, but the screen dominating one end is already live. On it sits the opening slide of Eleanor’s powerpoint presentation in our standard template:The Rath Mor Foundation: The Future of Philanthropy.

Athena scoffs. ‘Future, my arse. You should know that if she’s used clipart, I won’t be responsible for my reactions.’

‘God, you’re a tough woman. She must be in her late fifties. She’s not exactly Steve Jobs. Give her a break.’

She laughs. ‘Never. What’s your plan, again? Say it.’

‘Appeal to their heartsandtheir business brains,’ I parrot. ‘Stay true to my vision. Don’t let myself be railroaded.’

‘Excellent. Remember, channel that edge.’

‘Fuck knows, there’s enough of it, thanks to you cockblocking me,’ I grumble.

When my family members show up a few minutes later with Eleanor and Torty, Athena and I are sitting side by side, the picture of professional decorum. This is good practice for us. We spend so much time alone together that it’s hard sometimes to remember to act like colleagues in front of the broader team. We rise. Greetings are given, introductions made.

‘New season Oscar!’ Athena gushes at my mother as they shake hands. ‘Oh God, that’s divine.’

‘Thanks, love,’ Mum says, looking genuinely touched. ‘You’ve a great eye.’ She’s wearing a pink dress and matching jacket that I haven’t seen on her before, and she looks lovely. Dad’s taking her out to lunch after this meeting—I suspect they’re making a day of it.

‘Is that Victoria Beckham you have on there?’ she asks, nodding at Athena. ‘Sure, isn’t it absolutely gorgeous on ye? You’ve the figure for it.’

I think my mother would actually drop down dead on the spot if she knew the real nature of Athena’s role at Rath Mor, but there’s no denying she appears charmed at first glance. It’s hardnotto be charmed by Athena. Her combination of looks and intellect and polish is nothing short of deadly, something my family is about to experience first hand.

Athena and my father exchange a hearty hello before she leads Mum over to the sideboard to fix her a coffee, giving my brother, who goes in for a double kiss, short shrift. Unbothered, he throws me a wink that says he’s still tickled by quite how attractive my EA is. I notice the tight smile and curt nod Torty throws Athena as the latter passes her a coffee cup, and recall what Athena said about Torty disliking her and wanting my babies in equal measure.

The thought makes me deeply uncomfortable. She’s suggested “mentoring drinks” after work more than once, and I’ve politely but firmly fobbed her off each time. She’s a nicewoman; I wish her all the best. Interest from well-meaning, hopeful but ultimately unappealing women like Torty is one of the main reasons I joined Alchemy.

If I thought the thrills it provided were gratifying, I had no clue.

Nothing and nobody is more rewarding than Athena Davenport. Even in here, making what amounts to friendly small talk with my mum and my sister Mairead, she positively dazzles. It’s impossible to focus on anyone or anything else when she’s in the room. I have a slight pang at the realisation that this may be precisely why the likes of Torty feel threatened by her.

It must be impossible not to.

‘Our objective today,’ Eleanor intones with her signature gravitas—and glacial pace, ‘is to take the first steps to formalising how we would like the Rath Mor Foundation to look as we take our charitable initiatives through to the next generation under Gabriel’s capable stewardship.’

She looks to me for agreement, and I nod before catching Mum’s eye. She’s smiling. She and Dad are so excited about this—we all are. This is to be a Sullivan family endeavour, an opportunity to harness this extraordinary wealth we’ve—they’ve—amassed and put it to seriously impactful work.

‘Might I suggest that we look to cover the following issues?’ Eleanor continues. She pronounces it with anssound rather than ash, something that always makes my skin crawl for unknown reasons. When she clicks through to the first slide, Athena kicks me under the table, because the “iss-ues” are surrounded by a glory of clip art. I shake my head to communicate that I am moderately amused and have no intention whatsoever of disclosing that fact.

But I’m not amused as I scan Eleanor’s agenda.

Preservation.

Business Support.

Community Outreach.

Cultural Partnerships.

‘The wonderful thing is that there are some very illustrious precedents here in London,’ she continues smoothly. Below the silk scarf knotted around her neck, her more-than-ample bosom rises and falls alarmingly as she speaks. ‘The Cadogan and Grosvenor estates are excellent blueprints for the kinds of philanthropy you may want to lend your names to. I feel that looking to the most established models is wise here.’ I notice Mum smiling and nodding as she follows along. I swear she’d follow Eleanor off the edge of a cliff if she had the opportunity. ‘I’ve taken the liberty of asking Victoria to overlay, if you like, the main tenets of those models with what the Rath Mor estate could apply to its land. Starting from scratch would be overwhelming and risky, in my opinion.’

Torty nods and opens a folder from which she gathers a sheaf of papers. ‘It’s merely a starting point, but it will give us a helpful top-down view of how these estates allocate their funds and what they consider the most compelling priorities.’ She tosses her hair self-consciously. ‘I actually went for coffee with Serena Cadogan last week and she wassohelpful in passing along some tips from their key stakeholders. Why don’t I pass these around?’

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