Read Online Summer With My Sister by Lucy Diamond - Free Book Online
Authors: Lucy Diamond
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family, could recite the bar menu backwards if you asked her to. She knew exactly what she was going to order too: a bottle of the vintage Taittinger, a chicken-Caesar salad and some of the house-special spicy potato wedges. She would fill her glass with the best kind of bubbly and celebrate a new start. A new chapter. Okay, so she had no idea what this new start was going to be , but it was worth celebrating, Polly reckoned. Change was good, wasn’t it? She tried not to think about the phrase ‘drowning one’s sorrows’ while she waited to be served.
Who was in tonight then; anyone she knew? She scanned the room beadily. There was a group of male banky types, none of them familiar to Polly, discussing something earnestly around a champagne bucket. A hatchet-faced silver-haired woman and her tweedy male companion – they looked a bit scary and unapproachable. Ah, there were a couple of people she vaguely recognized from the business pages: brick-cheeked Charles Quarry, who was obscenely rich and very well connected; helmet-haired Selina Constable, the formidable CEO at the London office of Hartson International; and Elliot McCarthy, the rangy, dynamic New York banking mogul, currently stirring things up at Drake & Foreman.
A plan appeared in Polly’s mind in the very next second. It was simple. She’d go over there and introduce herself, press a business card into each of their palms and persuade one of them – all of them – that they’d met their new company star. Jackpot!
She’d just have a swift drink first, she decided as the barmaid laid out a slim champagne glass and a silver ice bucket, and uncorked the Taittinger. She’d bolster her nerve, run through a few killer lines in her head, then seize the moment. Oh yes.
Polly took herself over to a table near Charles Quarry and his cohorts and sipped her champagne thoughtfully. Damn, that first mouthful was good: cold and dry and fizzing on her tongue.
Hi, I’d like to introduce myself , she rehearsed mentally. I’m Polly Johnson and have been working as a senior investment banker at Waterman’s Financial for twelve years. I’d love the chance to discuss employment opportunities with you some time, may I give you my card ?
Ugh. It was too vague, too undirected. Maybe it was better to target just one of them, zero in on a single member of the group rather than throw herself randomly at them all. Elliot McCarthy would probably be the most interesting of the three to work for: he was a maverick, a true entrepreneur who played hard and took risks, yet always came up smelling of roses. And money. Lots and lots of money.
Perhaps she should go in with some flattery first; soften him up. I’ve always admired your work ethics – actually no, better not. She seemed to remember some dodgy ethical practices that had been swept under the carpet by his people, now she thought about it.
I’ve always admired your drive and ambition; it’s so great to have you in the UK. I love what you did with the Hudson Link account . Slightly creepy, but in her experience millionaires liked that kind of gushing. The detail was good too; showed that she did actually know what she was talking about, that she hadn’t just pulled the compliment from thin air. Flattery and depth – good. Okay, that was her intro sorted. What next?
‘Chicken Caesar and wedges?’
She lifted her gaze to see a waitress setting her food in front of her. Polly’s stomach rumbled violently as she smelled the hot spicy wedges and the Caesar dressing ribboning the salad, and she realized she hadn’t actually eaten anything since breakfast that morning. She’d been too pumped, too adrenalin-fuelled to think about food until this moment, and now her tastebuds were about to go into overdrive. Right, okay. So she’d just eat this lot, then she’d approach the bigshots at the table nearby. She glanced over to see Elliot McCarthy pouring more champagne into their glasses and all of them laughing at
Who was in tonight then; anyone she knew? She scanned the room beadily. There was a group of male banky types, none of them familiar to Polly, discussing something earnestly around a champagne bucket. A hatchet-faced silver-haired woman and her tweedy male companion – they looked a bit scary and unapproachable. Ah, there were a couple of people she vaguely recognized from the business pages: brick-cheeked Charles Quarry, who was obscenely rich and very well connected; helmet-haired Selina Constable, the formidable CEO at the London office of Hartson International; and Elliot McCarthy, the rangy, dynamic New York banking mogul, currently stirring things up at Drake & Foreman.
A plan appeared in Polly’s mind in the very next second. It was simple. She’d go over there and introduce herself, press a business card into each of their palms and persuade one of them – all of them – that they’d met their new company star. Jackpot!
She’d just have a swift drink first, she decided as the barmaid laid out a slim champagne glass and a silver ice bucket, and uncorked the Taittinger. She’d bolster her nerve, run through a few killer lines in her head, then seize the moment. Oh yes.
Polly took herself over to a table near Charles Quarry and his cohorts and sipped her champagne thoughtfully. Damn, that first mouthful was good: cold and dry and fizzing on her tongue.
Hi, I’d like to introduce myself , she rehearsed mentally. I’m Polly Johnson and have been working as a senior investment banker at Waterman’s Financial for twelve years. I’d love the chance to discuss employment opportunities with you some time, may I give you my card ?
Ugh. It was too vague, too undirected. Maybe it was better to target just one of them, zero in on a single member of the group rather than throw herself randomly at them all. Elliot McCarthy would probably be the most interesting of the three to work for: he was a maverick, a true entrepreneur who played hard and took risks, yet always came up smelling of roses. And money. Lots and lots of money.
Perhaps she should go in with some flattery first; soften him up. I’ve always admired your work ethics – actually no, better not. She seemed to remember some dodgy ethical practices that had been swept under the carpet by his people, now she thought about it.
I’ve always admired your drive and ambition; it’s so great to have you in the UK. I love what you did with the Hudson Link account . Slightly creepy, but in her experience millionaires liked that kind of gushing. The detail was good too; showed that she did actually know what she was talking about, that she hadn’t just pulled the compliment from thin air. Flattery and depth – good. Okay, that was her intro sorted. What next?
‘Chicken Caesar and wedges?’
She lifted her gaze to see a waitress setting her food in front of her. Polly’s stomach rumbled violently as she smelled the hot spicy wedges and the Caesar dressing ribboning the salad, and she realized she hadn’t actually eaten anything since breakfast that morning. She’d been too pumped, too adrenalin-fuelled to think about food until this moment, and now her tastebuds were about to go into overdrive. Right, okay. So she’d just eat this lot, then she’d approach the bigshots at the table nearby. She glanced over to see Elliot McCarthy pouring more champagne into their glasses and all of them laughing at
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