Page 18 of Love ad Lib
‘Good morning, Elizabeth. How are you?’
‘Fine, we’re on the home straight now. We’ll probably have to pull an all-nighter on Monday, but we’ll get it done.’
‘Are you sure you still want to meet on Tuesday? We could always re-arrange?’
‘No, it’ll give me something to look forward to. We should be finished by the afternoon, but if anything last-minute comes up, our final deadline is eight when Wall Street closes. I can grab a taxi and be with you around eight-thirty, depending on where we’re meeting.’
He smiled. After weeks of effort, he’d finally got into Imperium, London’s most exclusive new restaurant. Everyone at Conqueror was trying to gain access for their clients and he’d got there first.
‘I’ve booked us a table at Imperium.’
He heard her gasp.
‘No way! Only the partners here have been, and they said it’s fantastic.’
‘It’s in Soho, so if the tube strike goes ahead and there aren’t any taxis, it’s only a short walk from your office.’
‘That’s great. I can’t believe you got us in.’
‘Yep, Imperium.’ He grinned. ‘I’ll see you there next week.’
‘Looking forward to it, Henry. Got to go now.’
‘Good luck with the—’
But she’d hung up.
‘Imperium? How the fuck did you get in there?’
The scowling face of James Hunter-Savage loomed over him.
‘By being good at my job?’
‘Or by using family connections?’
Henry bristled. That was something he’d never do. He wanted to distance himself from his family, not use them to his advantage.
‘No.’ He turned back to his computer.
‘When are you going?’
‘A week on Friday,’ he lied.
‘Hmm. I bet I can get in before then.’
Henry didn’t respond. Something landed on his desk as James walked away. A bent paperclip lay askew in front of him as if its limbs were broken. Right now, he wanted to do the same to James.
4
Henry swivelled in his chair, turning his back on the computer screens, his foot tapping on the floor. He couldn’t concentrate. His date with Elizabeth was in a few hours and his insides were itchy and irritable. The one-day tube strike had gone ahead, so he’d walked three miles from his flat in Canary Wharf to the Conqueror building in the City, then changed and rowed for an hour in the office gym until the pain of exercise blotted out everything else in his brain.
But the unease had returned. He kept looking at pictures of Elizabeth, reminding himself of all the reasons they were perfect for each other. However, instead of feeling excited about their date, he felt dread.
He shoved his hands into his trouser pockets and touched the edge of a business card, pressing one of the corners into the pad of his thumb. The sharpness was a welcome distraction. Still another four hours until his date. Could he go back to the gym?
Pulling out the card, he stared at the names. Claire and Libby. His mouth turned up and his foot stopped tapping. The workshop had been the most bizarre and uplifting two hours of his life. And that was saying something with parents like his.
He flipped the card over, reading the details for their improv night in Covent Garden. Tonight. A half-hour walk from the Conqueror office. It finished at eight. Imperium was ten minutes further. He could watch their show and get to the restaurant for his date with twenty minutes to spare.
