Harlow Bannerman being acquired by Allard International only a few weeks earlier.
The Chanticleer was a gourmet eating hole, specialising in chicken dishes as its name suggested, but Lisle ordered a rare fillet steak and a salad, knowing that Oliver would be disconcerted by her choice as he cared deeply about food, and liked to have long discussions with the head waiter and the wine waiter to produce a perfectly balanced meal. Perversely, she wanted to annoy him, and was rewarded by the briefly pained look which crossed his features as he gave the order.
He said, 'Now tell me about Murray. It was a terrible shock to us all, as you can imagine. He seemed so well again—so hopeful.'
'That's an odd word to use.' Lisle raised her eyebrows.
'But appropriate.' Oliver gave a short sigh. 'I'm not sure if you know how things stand with the company, Lisle, but they're not good, and haven't been for some time. We've been up against stiff competition, and we haven't been winning as much of our share of the market as we should have done, and that's worrying even when there isn't a recession, muddying the water, and throwing everything into confusion. Ally our recent performance to severe economic depression, and the sum adds up to disaster. Our research section has come up with the goods, but we need new investment in order to produce them. Allard International is prepared to supply that.'
Lisle smiled tightly. 'He made us an offer we couldn't refuse. I see.' She drank some of her Martini. 'Jake Allard told me you were on his side, but I didn't believe him.'
Oliver looked uncomfortable. 'It's hardly a question of sides, my dear…'
'Isn't it?' She gave him a direct look. 'You worked for my grandfather, Oliver, and for my father. You've always claimed to have loved them both. I thought at least Harlow Bannerman could count on your loyalty.'
He shifted restlessly. 'Loyalty doesn't come into it, Lisle, as I'm trying to make plain to you. It's a simple question of economic expediency. We need Allard International—and Jake Allard too—or we're going to go under.'
And when we're finally absorbed into his empire, what then?' Lisle stared at him. 'Do you want the Bannerman name to disappear? For Murray to live to see everything he's struggled for vanish—down that shark's throat?' she added violently, and Oliver looked shocked.
'My dear girl, I know you're having a wretched time, but you must calm yourself. It isn't the end of the world, believe me. And I'm sure the Bannerman name will be retained in some context at least. Your grandfather was determined about that. After all,' he added with a faint smile, 'he kept his former partner's name, even though Anthony Harlow was only with the company for a few years before his death. He's got some scheme to keep the Bannerman name alive, I know that, and I'm sure Jake Allard will agree to it. It's a fine name, and there's a lot of goodwill attached to it, after all.'
'Yes.' Her fingers played with the stem of her glass, thinking of the exact method her grandfather had chosen to perpetuate the family name in the company. She said with a small grimace, 'Oliver, I'm so scared.'
It was the truth, although she would probably have said it anyway. She had arranged this lunch, intending to try and win Oliver over away from his new-found allegiance to Jake Allard, to try and obtain, although she wasn't sure how, some kind of breathing space for Gerard to re-establish himself as his grandfather's heir, to try and beat Jake Allard at his own game.
It had seemed a reasonable notion back at the Priory, where there were all the memories of the previous night to torment her, and give shape and purpose to her anger. But here in London, in the bright cold light of day, the idea of flirting with Oliver in order to thwart Jake Allard in some way she had yet to establish suddenly seemed not quite so harmless. In fact, it could even be positively dangerous, quite apart from the morality of it.
Jake's raw
The Chanticleer was a gourmet eating hole, specialising in chicken dishes as its name suggested, but Lisle ordered a rare fillet steak and a salad, knowing that Oliver would be disconcerted by her choice as he cared deeply about food, and liked to have long discussions with the head waiter and the wine waiter to produce a perfectly balanced meal. Perversely, she wanted to annoy him, and was rewarded by the briefly pained look which crossed his features as he gave the order.
He said, 'Now tell me about Murray. It was a terrible shock to us all, as you can imagine. He seemed so well again—so hopeful.'
'That's an odd word to use.' Lisle raised her eyebrows.
'But appropriate.' Oliver gave a short sigh. 'I'm not sure if you know how things stand with the company, Lisle, but they're not good, and haven't been for some time. We've been up against stiff competition, and we haven't been winning as much of our share of the market as we should have done, and that's worrying even when there isn't a recession, muddying the water, and throwing everything into confusion. Ally our recent performance to severe economic depression, and the sum adds up to disaster. Our research section has come up with the goods, but we need new investment in order to produce them. Allard International is prepared to supply that.'
Lisle smiled tightly. 'He made us an offer we couldn't refuse. I see.' She drank some of her Martini. 'Jake Allard told me you were on his side, but I didn't believe him.'
Oliver looked uncomfortable. 'It's hardly a question of sides, my dear…'
'Isn't it?' She gave him a direct look. 'You worked for my grandfather, Oliver, and for my father. You've always claimed to have loved them both. I thought at least Harlow Bannerman could count on your loyalty.'
He shifted restlessly. 'Loyalty doesn't come into it, Lisle, as I'm trying to make plain to you. It's a simple question of economic expediency. We need Allard International—and Jake Allard too—or we're going to go under.'
And when we're finally absorbed into his empire, what then?' Lisle stared at him. 'Do you want the Bannerman name to disappear? For Murray to live to see everything he's struggled for vanish—down that shark's throat?' she added violently, and Oliver looked shocked.
'My dear girl, I know you're having a wretched time, but you must calm yourself. It isn't the end of the world, believe me. And I'm sure the Bannerman name will be retained in some context at least. Your grandfather was determined about that. After all,' he added with a faint smile, 'he kept his former partner's name, even though Anthony Harlow was only with the company for a few years before his death. He's got some scheme to keep the Bannerman name alive, I know that, and I'm sure Jake Allard will agree to it. It's a fine name, and there's a lot of goodwill attached to it, after all.'
'Yes.' Her fingers played with the stem of her glass, thinking of the exact method her grandfather had chosen to perpetuate the family name in the company. She said with a small grimace, 'Oliver, I'm so scared.'
It was the truth, although she would probably have said it anyway. She had arranged this lunch, intending to try and win Oliver over away from his new-found allegiance to Jake Allard, to try and obtain, although she wasn't sure how, some kind of breathing space for Gerard to re-establish himself as his grandfather's heir, to try and beat Jake Allard at his own game.
It had seemed a reasonable notion back at the Priory, where there were all the memories of the previous night to torment her, and give shape and purpose to her anger. But here in London, in the bright cold light of day, the idea of flirting with Oliver in order to thwart Jake Allard in some way she had yet to establish suddenly seemed not quite so harmless. In fact, it could even be positively dangerous, quite apart from the morality of it.
Jake's raw
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