doesn’t want her kids to eat HFCS?”
He raised his eyes to the ceiling, and said nothing. Susan had already guessed he wasn’t a Democrat. But at the moment he was actively cultivating a senior Democratic senator in hopes of leading him into a policy U-turn. “Everyone has their price,” he predicted. It wouldn’t take long for the senator to lose his scruples and drop like a ripe, genetically modified tomato into his outstretched hand. She couldn’t help noticing the size of his hands before turning on her heel. She’d felt the warmth of one of them splayed on her buttock. She shuddered inwardly at the memory.
She’d checked Lily’s theory about Barney. Back on Partners 4 U she looked up 50-year-old men looking for 40-year-old women. A picture of him appeared straight away. He was ‘Silverado’ from Georgetown, aged 51, and single. How many other men were cheating on their wives on this site?
Susan’s phone rang. It was Frank calling from London.
“How’s the flame-haired temptress?” She smiled at the reference from Private Eye , and Frank had always prided himself on his cultural onions after so many years in England. “Are you dating?”
If only you knew, she thought. But she couldn’t help launching into a description of her experiences online.
“As you can imagine, men are falling over themselves,” she said, hearing him laugh. She told him about one email exchange which had led to a drink with an architect named Bill, who had convinced himself that he’d be more attractive if he joked about his other dates. “I mean he was telling me about this stunningly beautiful girl who left via the bathroom of his hotel. Can you believe it?”
Frank was tut-tutting in the background. She told him about Scott, an estate agent who forgot to set a date on the phone because he was so busy talking about his personal influence on the property prices in downtown DC.
“I’ve actually arranged a meeting with a management consultant from Virginia, but to be quite honest it feels too much like work. You know what, Frank, I’m far too busy to think about dating,” she added. “But if Mister Right comes along, I wouldn’t say no. Although in this heat, I don’t know whether I’ll ever be able to step out of the aircon and actually meet him. I’m wilting.”
“I wouldn’t worry if I were you. Plenty more fish in the sea, Susie.”
“Isn’t that a dating site? You mean I should try that one?”
They laughed again and their conversation returned to work. Susan told Frank about the results of her yoghurt study. “The other thing I’m wondering about is bread,” she said.
“You want to put sugar in baguettes? Good luck with that. That effeminate French poser would have us shot.” She was reminded that for people like Frank and Barney, all European men were ‘effeminate’.
As though reading her thoughts, he asked, “How’s Barney?”
She told him he was busy with the Guilty Secrets launch, which by all accounts was going extremely well. She didn’t mention the incident in her office.
“But you know Barney. He’s terrorizing everyone.” She recounted a recent meeting between him and a Congressman from Nebraska. “He actually told the poor man, ‘I own you’.”
“Well, I guess he does,” Frank said, “DeKripps donates enough to keep those guys on the campaign trail in the Midwest. He did good in the Scrutineer, by the way.”
The Barbara Miles story had led to an editorial in the New York Scrutineer praising DeKripps for reducing HFCS in soda. “There’s been the usual whining on Twitter, of course,” Frank added.
She didn’t mention that she’d gone to see Kramer, the devil himself, in Washington.
“Barney’s calmed down a bit now. He knows it’s all publicity. People remember the brand,” she said. “Thing is, where do we go from here?”
“Actually, here in the UK, salt’s gotten bigger than sugar right now,” he said. “We might have to make some gesture on
He raised his eyes to the ceiling, and said nothing. Susan had already guessed he wasn’t a Democrat. But at the moment he was actively cultivating a senior Democratic senator in hopes of leading him into a policy U-turn. “Everyone has their price,” he predicted. It wouldn’t take long for the senator to lose his scruples and drop like a ripe, genetically modified tomato into his outstretched hand. She couldn’t help noticing the size of his hands before turning on her heel. She’d felt the warmth of one of them splayed on her buttock. She shuddered inwardly at the memory.
She’d checked Lily’s theory about Barney. Back on Partners 4 U she looked up 50-year-old men looking for 40-year-old women. A picture of him appeared straight away. He was ‘Silverado’ from Georgetown, aged 51, and single. How many other men were cheating on their wives on this site?
Susan’s phone rang. It was Frank calling from London.
“How’s the flame-haired temptress?” She smiled at the reference from Private Eye , and Frank had always prided himself on his cultural onions after so many years in England. “Are you dating?”
If only you knew, she thought. But she couldn’t help launching into a description of her experiences online.
“As you can imagine, men are falling over themselves,” she said, hearing him laugh. She told him about one email exchange which had led to a drink with an architect named Bill, who had convinced himself that he’d be more attractive if he joked about his other dates. “I mean he was telling me about this stunningly beautiful girl who left via the bathroom of his hotel. Can you believe it?”
Frank was tut-tutting in the background. She told him about Scott, an estate agent who forgot to set a date on the phone because he was so busy talking about his personal influence on the property prices in downtown DC.
“I’ve actually arranged a meeting with a management consultant from Virginia, but to be quite honest it feels too much like work. You know what, Frank, I’m far too busy to think about dating,” she added. “But if Mister Right comes along, I wouldn’t say no. Although in this heat, I don’t know whether I’ll ever be able to step out of the aircon and actually meet him. I’m wilting.”
“I wouldn’t worry if I were you. Plenty more fish in the sea, Susie.”
“Isn’t that a dating site? You mean I should try that one?”
They laughed again and their conversation returned to work. Susan told Frank about the results of her yoghurt study. “The other thing I’m wondering about is bread,” she said.
“You want to put sugar in baguettes? Good luck with that. That effeminate French poser would have us shot.” She was reminded that for people like Frank and Barney, all European men were ‘effeminate’.
As though reading her thoughts, he asked, “How’s Barney?”
She told him he was busy with the Guilty Secrets launch, which by all accounts was going extremely well. She didn’t mention the incident in her office.
“But you know Barney. He’s terrorizing everyone.” She recounted a recent meeting between him and a Congressman from Nebraska. “He actually told the poor man, ‘I own you’.”
“Well, I guess he does,” Frank said, “DeKripps donates enough to keep those guys on the campaign trail in the Midwest. He did good in the Scrutineer, by the way.”
The Barbara Miles story had led to an editorial in the New York Scrutineer praising DeKripps for reducing HFCS in soda. “There’s been the usual whining on Twitter, of course,” Frank added.
She didn’t mention that she’d gone to see Kramer, the devil himself, in Washington.
“Barney’s calmed down a bit now. He knows it’s all publicity. People remember the brand,” she said. “Thing is, where do we go from here?”
“Actually, here in the UK, salt’s gotten bigger than sugar right now,” he said. “We might have to make some gesture on
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