the meeting in Zurich was mutually interesting for both parties. I trust your office
received the photograph of our meeting, by way of thanks?’
‘Indeed,’ Mr Yong said, on the back foot that Allegra was here and he, yet again, had no gifts ready to reciprocate hers, something that pleased Allegra immensely; the more indebted
he was to her, the better. ‘The honour is all ours.’
‘Shall we go through? Mr Kemp is waiting for us,’ Allegra smiled, leading both men through the restaurant.
Allegra deliberately kept her eyes away from Sam’s as she led the two men to the table – she didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of being able to land his furious glare on
her. Instead, she took off her glossy black ponyskin coat, handing it to the maître d’, and tugged the hem of her black peplum-skirted shell top, matched with narrow cigarette trousers
(the spare ‘work-to-evening’ outfit she kept hanging on the back of the door in her office).
It was a more feminine outfit than she ordinarily would have worn for a meeting with Yong. Ordinarily she would have gone to her usual lengths to obscure her gender, or at least negate it as
much as she possibly could – high collars, buttoned-up jacket, sober colours, short hair, briefcase-style bags, even flat shoes – but where had that got her on this account? She had
delivered the pitch of her life with number guarantees that would make most clients’ heads spin off, but it had all come to nothing with them because she was the wrong gender. To all intents
and purposes, she was off the account, to be hidden away at her desk making the numbers work while Kemp and his cronies bumped up the expenses account.
Well, not today. Today she was going to face them all down. Honour would force them into sitting with her, returning her good manners, and they could sit face to face with her femininity, the
very thing they apparently found so impossible to work with.
She also started smiling a lot, not caring for once about the girlish gap between her teeth – smiling as she let the waiter hold her chair, smiling as the waiter handed her the menu,
smiling even as she placed her order.
She could almost see the puzzlement in Sam’s expression as he watched this new relaxed Allegra, so different from the one he’d encountered in the conference room in London only hours
before, his eyes flitting to her every few seconds, though she didn’t look back at him once.
She saw the shiny helmet of a bike courier by the concierge desk and smiled even wider. ‘We’re so pleased you’ve been able to meet with us again so soon. We’re very
excited about Sam joining the team, and I know he was keen to discuss with you a key change that we’ve decided upon.’ Finally, she looked at him, her smile wider than ever, genuine glee
in her eyes. ‘Do you want to present it Sam, or shall I?’
Sam glared at her. He knew she knew perfectly well he had no file, reports or numbers to hand with which to do the presentation, but he couldn’t dissent in front of the client. It would
make the PLF team look fractured and disorganized and propel them in the direction of their competitors.
‘Why don’t you, Allegra, since you led discussions in Switzerland,’ he replied, one arm outstretched on the table, his middle finger occasionally tapping the table the only
sign of his intense irritation.
He watched suspiciously as the concierge stopped at their table and handed a large brown envelope to Allegra with a nod.
Allegra took it with a smile that could have lit the room. ‘OK, then,’ she beamed, the papers inside still warm from their run off the printer, as she distributed the reports to the
men round the table. ‘Sam saw the wisdom of this approach the moment we began going into harder detail on Renton’s accounts. You see . . .’
An hour later, they were standing on the pavement, waving off the Yongs through tinted windows.
‘Bravo,’ Sam murmured as the limo pulled
received the photograph of our meeting, by way of thanks?’
‘Indeed,’ Mr Yong said, on the back foot that Allegra was here and he, yet again, had no gifts ready to reciprocate hers, something that pleased Allegra immensely; the more indebted
he was to her, the better. ‘The honour is all ours.’
‘Shall we go through? Mr Kemp is waiting for us,’ Allegra smiled, leading both men through the restaurant.
Allegra deliberately kept her eyes away from Sam’s as she led the two men to the table – she didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of being able to land his furious glare on
her. Instead, she took off her glossy black ponyskin coat, handing it to the maître d’, and tugged the hem of her black peplum-skirted shell top, matched with narrow cigarette trousers
(the spare ‘work-to-evening’ outfit she kept hanging on the back of the door in her office).
It was a more feminine outfit than she ordinarily would have worn for a meeting with Yong. Ordinarily she would have gone to her usual lengths to obscure her gender, or at least negate it as
much as she possibly could – high collars, buttoned-up jacket, sober colours, short hair, briefcase-style bags, even flat shoes – but where had that got her on this account? She had
delivered the pitch of her life with number guarantees that would make most clients’ heads spin off, but it had all come to nothing with them because she was the wrong gender. To all intents
and purposes, she was off the account, to be hidden away at her desk making the numbers work while Kemp and his cronies bumped up the expenses account.
Well, not today. Today she was going to face them all down. Honour would force them into sitting with her, returning her good manners, and they could sit face to face with her femininity, the
very thing they apparently found so impossible to work with.
She also started smiling a lot, not caring for once about the girlish gap between her teeth – smiling as she let the waiter hold her chair, smiling as the waiter handed her the menu,
smiling even as she placed her order.
She could almost see the puzzlement in Sam’s expression as he watched this new relaxed Allegra, so different from the one he’d encountered in the conference room in London only hours
before, his eyes flitting to her every few seconds, though she didn’t look back at him once.
She saw the shiny helmet of a bike courier by the concierge desk and smiled even wider. ‘We’re so pleased you’ve been able to meet with us again so soon. We’re very
excited about Sam joining the team, and I know he was keen to discuss with you a key change that we’ve decided upon.’ Finally, she looked at him, her smile wider than ever, genuine glee
in her eyes. ‘Do you want to present it Sam, or shall I?’
Sam glared at her. He knew she knew perfectly well he had no file, reports or numbers to hand with which to do the presentation, but he couldn’t dissent in front of the client. It would
make the PLF team look fractured and disorganized and propel them in the direction of their competitors.
‘Why don’t you, Allegra, since you led discussions in Switzerland,’ he replied, one arm outstretched on the table, his middle finger occasionally tapping the table the only
sign of his intense irritation.
He watched suspiciously as the concierge stopped at their table and handed a large brown envelope to Allegra with a nod.
Allegra took it with a smile that could have lit the room. ‘OK, then,’ she beamed, the papers inside still warm from their run off the printer, as she distributed the reports to the
men round the table. ‘Sam saw the wisdom of this approach the moment we began going into harder detail on Renton’s accounts. You see . . .’
An hour later, they were standing on the pavement, waving off the Yongs through tinted windows.
‘Bravo,’ Sam murmured as the limo pulled
Similar Books
