is fine. You ordered the drink two minutes ago and it’s on its way. How thirsty can you be?’
‘It’s Friday night, baby, so I’m very thirsty. Did Martin tell you what I do?’
‘Something with hedge funds?’
‘I was head-hunted to come and run one here for Cooks Brokers. These guys haven’t a fucking clue how to run a fund. They’re trading Mickey Mouse sums. If you want big returns, you’ve got to take risks, invest big and short sell.’
‘Isn’t it hard to find investors in the downturn?’
‘Honey, no one says no to Jake Doran. I’m a fucking legend in this business. My reputation precedes me. I’ve made millions for all my clients and myself. They used to call me the Terminator because I had nerves of fucking steel.’
‘I see. How does working here compare with New York? I remember when I first came back from London –’
‘There is no comparison,’ Jake cut across her. ‘People here have no idea what real pressure is. They think working until eight is late. I pulled all-nighters two, three times a week. I was on Tokyo, New York and London time. People here think they work hard – they have no fucking idea.’
‘That’s very unfair –’ Sally tried to get her point across, but was shot down again. The Terminator was on a roll.
‘It’s like the healthcare system here. Everyone pisses and moans about it, but no one does anything.’
‘More than fifteen per cent of Americans don’t have healthcare. That’s almost forty-six million people. I hardly think that’s a shining example of efficiency or equality.’
For once Jake didn’t have an answer. Clearly he was not as au fait with politics as he was with his own ego. Sally sat back and enjoyed the moment.
‘I need to take a leak. Order us another drink – it might just be here by the time I get back.’
Sally politely ordered another drink from the barman. Although Jake was clearly a tosser, he was drunk, which might explain some of his behaviour, and he was very good-looking. She decided to give him one final chance to redeem himself. Maybe hiding deep underneath the bluster was a nice man. Besides, she was all dressed up and had nowhere else to go.
Jake was striding back. He seemed more together. Maybe he’d sobered up a bit in the Gents. But as he got closer she saw white powder on the end of his left nostril.
‘For an older woman you’re hot,’ he said, at the top of his voice as he groped her leg. ‘I’d say you’re great in the sack.’
Sally pushed his hand away and climbed down from her stool. ‘Well, Terminator, that’s something you’ll just have to imagine. I’m leaving now before my eardrums burst and you bore me into an early grave. And you’ve got cocaine all over your face, which is both sad and pathetic.’
‘… and that concludes yet another disastrous blind date.’ Sally waved her glass in the air and knocked back her third double gin.
‘What a jerk. I can’t believe Martin thought he’d be right for you.’
‘Listen, Ava, every blind date I’ve been on has been crap. People either think I’m a freak who likes other freaks or they think I’m so desperate that I’d settle for anything. Honestly, there’s not one guy I’ve been set up with that I would entertain going out with. And don’t tell me I’m fussy.’
‘I wasn’t going to, I promise.’
‘Because,’ Sally continued, slurring slightly, ‘I’m not fussy. I’m just not prepared to settle for some arsehole who snorts his wages up his nose. I’d rather be on my own.’
‘Who’s snorting his wages up his nose?’ Paul asked, coming over with two more drinks.
‘Sally’s blind date.’
‘Mr New York himself,’ she said, taking a large sip of her gin.
‘What you need is a nice guy like me to look after you.’ Paul leant over the mahogany bar. ‘Good-looking, reliable, trustworthy, funny, bright –’
‘Modest,’ I added.
‘Honest.’ He scanned the bar to make sure no one was waiting to be served.
‘It’s Friday night, baby, so I’m very thirsty. Did Martin tell you what I do?’
‘Something with hedge funds?’
‘I was head-hunted to come and run one here for Cooks Brokers. These guys haven’t a fucking clue how to run a fund. They’re trading Mickey Mouse sums. If you want big returns, you’ve got to take risks, invest big and short sell.’
‘Isn’t it hard to find investors in the downturn?’
‘Honey, no one says no to Jake Doran. I’m a fucking legend in this business. My reputation precedes me. I’ve made millions for all my clients and myself. They used to call me the Terminator because I had nerves of fucking steel.’
‘I see. How does working here compare with New York? I remember when I first came back from London –’
‘There is no comparison,’ Jake cut across her. ‘People here have no idea what real pressure is. They think working until eight is late. I pulled all-nighters two, three times a week. I was on Tokyo, New York and London time. People here think they work hard – they have no fucking idea.’
‘That’s very unfair –’ Sally tried to get her point across, but was shot down again. The Terminator was on a roll.
‘It’s like the healthcare system here. Everyone pisses and moans about it, but no one does anything.’
‘More than fifteen per cent of Americans don’t have healthcare. That’s almost forty-six million people. I hardly think that’s a shining example of efficiency or equality.’
For once Jake didn’t have an answer. Clearly he was not as au fait with politics as he was with his own ego. Sally sat back and enjoyed the moment.
‘I need to take a leak. Order us another drink – it might just be here by the time I get back.’
Sally politely ordered another drink from the barman. Although Jake was clearly a tosser, he was drunk, which might explain some of his behaviour, and he was very good-looking. She decided to give him one final chance to redeem himself. Maybe hiding deep underneath the bluster was a nice man. Besides, she was all dressed up and had nowhere else to go.
Jake was striding back. He seemed more together. Maybe he’d sobered up a bit in the Gents. But as he got closer she saw white powder on the end of his left nostril.
‘For an older woman you’re hot,’ he said, at the top of his voice as he groped her leg. ‘I’d say you’re great in the sack.’
Sally pushed his hand away and climbed down from her stool. ‘Well, Terminator, that’s something you’ll just have to imagine. I’m leaving now before my eardrums burst and you bore me into an early grave. And you’ve got cocaine all over your face, which is both sad and pathetic.’
‘… and that concludes yet another disastrous blind date.’ Sally waved her glass in the air and knocked back her third double gin.
‘What a jerk. I can’t believe Martin thought he’d be right for you.’
‘Listen, Ava, every blind date I’ve been on has been crap. People either think I’m a freak who likes other freaks or they think I’m so desperate that I’d settle for anything. Honestly, there’s not one guy I’ve been set up with that I would entertain going out with. And don’t tell me I’m fussy.’
‘I wasn’t going to, I promise.’
‘Because,’ Sally continued, slurring slightly, ‘I’m not fussy. I’m just not prepared to settle for some arsehole who snorts his wages up his nose. I’d rather be on my own.’
‘Who’s snorting his wages up his nose?’ Paul asked, coming over with two more drinks.
‘Sally’s blind date.’
‘Mr New York himself,’ she said, taking a large sip of her gin.
‘What you need is a nice guy like me to look after you.’ Paul leant over the mahogany bar. ‘Good-looking, reliable, trustworthy, funny, bright –’
‘Modest,’ I added.
‘Honest.’ He scanned the bar to make sure no one was waiting to be served.
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