you go to the fourth floor, his secretary will meet you outside the lift.’
Together Anna and Paul pinned their visitor cards to their lapels and waited by a small gate for it to open and allow them to pass through to the lifts. The security of the company was very obviously a priority, and it wasn’t until the receptionist had clicked open the automatic lock that they could pass through.
The glass lift had mirrored panels and thick carpet.
‘This all smells of money to me,’ Paul said, brushing a hand through his hair, looking at himself in the mirror.
‘Well, he must have some if he drives a Lotus, but compared to all this Newton Court is a bit downmarket—and he’s only renting.’
They reached the fourth floor and as the glass door opened to allow them to step out, a pretty blonde girl was waiting.
‘Good morning. I am Sarah, Mr Phillips’s secretary. He’s just finishing a meeting—it shouldn’t be more than a few minutes. Please follow me.’
They were led through a thickly carpeted corridor with numerous closed doors on either side. She reached the end and opened a door to conference room three. This was a cornerroom with long windows reaching from the floor to the ceiling. The table filled almost the entire space, with tubular steel and leather chairs surrounding it.
‘May I offer coffee or tea?’
‘Yes, thank you,’ Anna said, crossing to look out of the window.
‘Help yourself. There’s also herbal and decaf coffee.’
Sarah walked out, closing the door silently behind her. Paul was making himself a coffee and stuffing his mouth with a fresh croissant.
‘This is all very swish, isn’t it? Do you want herbal or what?’
Anna joined him, looking over the neatly arrayed rows of all the various teas and coffees.
‘I’ll have a Colombia, black.’ She picked up a chocolate digestive biscuit and took another look around the room. There was a stack of notebooks with sharpened pencils beside them with the logo of the company, A & C, entwined in navy blue. She carried her coffee to the table pondering which chair she should take and decided to sit in the end one facing the door.
‘That’s probably the chairman’s seat,’ Paul said, wading through his second croissant.
Anna sipped the piping hot thick black coffee; it tasted good. Paul drew out a chair midway along the table with his back to the tall windows. After ten minutes and no show of Michael Phillips, Anna was getting impatient. They’d helped themselves to more coffee and biscuits and Paul had also helped himself to a couple of notepads and pencils. Then the door swung open and in strode the over-confident and very handsome Michael Phillips. He first crossed to Anna to shake her hand and then went to Paul.
‘I’m not sure what this is about, but I apologise for keeping you waiting. Have you had coffee or—’
Anna interrupted his flow, holding up her cup. ‘Yes, thank you.’
He spread his arms, smiling. ‘I sit down, do I?’
Anna was immediately on her guard, not liking his manner. ‘As you wish, Mr Phillips.’
She then introduced herself and Paul, even though it was obvious he knew who they were. He chose a seat almost opposite Paul, but he drew the chair out far enough to cross one leg over his knee.
‘How long have you lived at Newton Court?’ Anna asked.
‘Not that long, actually.’
‘How long?’
‘Eighteen months. It’s a rental property.’
‘Long way for you to come to work here, isn’t it?’
‘Not really. I have only been with this company four months and previously to that I worked in a Barclays Bank not far from Hounslow. I have no intention of staying there much longer, but I had renewed my one-year lease.’
He was very slender, wearing a good grey suit with a pristine white shirt and black tie. He was also, Anna reckoned, about six foot two. He had very piercing dark eyes in a chiselled face, with strong cheekbones. His mouth was thin-lipped, which slightly diminished his handsome
Together Anna and Paul pinned their visitor cards to their lapels and waited by a small gate for it to open and allow them to pass through to the lifts. The security of the company was very obviously a priority, and it wasn’t until the receptionist had clicked open the automatic lock that they could pass through.
The glass lift had mirrored panels and thick carpet.
‘This all smells of money to me,’ Paul said, brushing a hand through his hair, looking at himself in the mirror.
‘Well, he must have some if he drives a Lotus, but compared to all this Newton Court is a bit downmarket—and he’s only renting.’
They reached the fourth floor and as the glass door opened to allow them to step out, a pretty blonde girl was waiting.
‘Good morning. I am Sarah, Mr Phillips’s secretary. He’s just finishing a meeting—it shouldn’t be more than a few minutes. Please follow me.’
They were led through a thickly carpeted corridor with numerous closed doors on either side. She reached the end and opened a door to conference room three. This was a cornerroom with long windows reaching from the floor to the ceiling. The table filled almost the entire space, with tubular steel and leather chairs surrounding it.
‘May I offer coffee or tea?’
‘Yes, thank you,’ Anna said, crossing to look out of the window.
‘Help yourself. There’s also herbal and decaf coffee.’
Sarah walked out, closing the door silently behind her. Paul was making himself a coffee and stuffing his mouth with a fresh croissant.
‘This is all very swish, isn’t it? Do you want herbal or what?’
Anna joined him, looking over the neatly arrayed rows of all the various teas and coffees.
‘I’ll have a Colombia, black.’ She picked up a chocolate digestive biscuit and took another look around the room. There was a stack of notebooks with sharpened pencils beside them with the logo of the company, A & C, entwined in navy blue. She carried her coffee to the table pondering which chair she should take and decided to sit in the end one facing the door.
‘That’s probably the chairman’s seat,’ Paul said, wading through his second croissant.
Anna sipped the piping hot thick black coffee; it tasted good. Paul drew out a chair midway along the table with his back to the tall windows. After ten minutes and no show of Michael Phillips, Anna was getting impatient. They’d helped themselves to more coffee and biscuits and Paul had also helped himself to a couple of notepads and pencils. Then the door swung open and in strode the over-confident and very handsome Michael Phillips. He first crossed to Anna to shake her hand and then went to Paul.
‘I’m not sure what this is about, but I apologise for keeping you waiting. Have you had coffee or—’
Anna interrupted his flow, holding up her cup. ‘Yes, thank you.’
He spread his arms, smiling. ‘I sit down, do I?’
Anna was immediately on her guard, not liking his manner. ‘As you wish, Mr Phillips.’
She then introduced herself and Paul, even though it was obvious he knew who they were. He chose a seat almost opposite Paul, but he drew the chair out far enough to cross one leg over his knee.
‘How long have you lived at Newton Court?’ Anna asked.
‘Not that long, actually.’
‘How long?’
‘Eighteen months. It’s a rental property.’
‘Long way for you to come to work here, isn’t it?’
‘Not really. I have only been with this company four months and previously to that I worked in a Barclays Bank not far from Hounslow. I have no intention of staying there much longer, but I had renewed my one-year lease.’
He was very slender, wearing a good grey suit with a pristine white shirt and black tie. He was also, Anna reckoned, about six foot two. He had very piercing dark eyes in a chiselled face, with strong cheekbones. His mouth was thin-lipped, which slightly diminished his handsome
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