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“I just wanted you to know.”
“Well, if he’s there, he’s not here,” I say. “I’ll call you when I’m leaving. Don’t wait up.”
“Don’t forget tomorrow night,” Abbie blurts before I can hang up. “Charley’s looking forward to it.”
“I’ve not forgotten.” I hang up and silence my phone when Jude tries to call yet again. “Not now,” I say, wondering if I would answer if I weren’t here. I shake my head, unwilling to let my mind go there.
I find everyone on the far side of the club, all comfortable in velvet club chairs, various shaped glasses decorating the small gold table in the middle of the circle of chairs. Gary spots me and stands, welcoming me.
“I’m sorry, I got caught in the downpour,” I say, accepting his kiss on my cheek before everyone rises in turn to welcome me.
“What are you drinking, Amelia?” Bob asks, waving a server over.
I lower to the chair Gary’s pulled over and slide the cocktail menu from beneath a glass.
“This is divine.” Sue moans her pleasure as she wraps her pink lips around the straw. “What’s it called, Gary?”
“Hey Jude.” He confirms what I knew, and I smile tightly.
“I think I’ll have a dirty martini.” Something short that I can sip slowly. I have to remain switched on.Always stay a few drinks behind the rest.Thank you, Tilda.
“Did anyone see the news?” Uptight Uriel asks, looking as relaxed as I’ve ever known him, his foot resting on his knee.
“The base rate?” Spencer says. “Unmoving.”
“Well, that’s faded all hope of the FTSE making a miraculous recovery,” Ted grumbles.
“It was a slow start to the week,” Gary says. “But I’m comfortable on where we closed today.”
“And the news of HighTac’s bumper profits was welcome,” Sue adds around her straw. “The question is, are we going to see any shift in the right direction soon?”
They all hum, and Gary looks at me, smiling over the rim of his glass. “What are your thoughts, Amelia?”
“Me?” I blurt, accepting my martini, all attention suddenly pointing my way. “Well.” I take a small sip, buying myself some time.Pressure.“It’s been a topsy-turvy month for sure, but I don’t think it’s a sign of a broader market panic. I’m definitely looking more towards the longer-term plans. I’ve had a few clients’ plans mature this week. One of my recommendations has been to reinvest in one of the six-year Global Defence plans. High risk, yes, but if things go as I predict—and hope—they could top a twelve percent return.”
“Twelve?” Bob asks. “You’re lucky to get eight these days.”
“I know, but when they guarantee the return of your initial capital, provided all underlying indices are at or above sixty-five percent of the initial strike level, it’s worth paying attention. You know they’re not playing when their minimum investment sits at fifty grand.”
“Oh, I do love a ballsy adviser,” Sue says, placing her glass on the table. “Where’s the fun in low-value, safe investments?” She looks at Gary, who smiles wide. And a deep, warm feeling floods me.
I’ve got this.
A few hours later, talk of the Dow Jones and FTSE 100 is a distant memory, the music is chilled and not too loud, and I’ve loosened up some more with the thanks of a few more dirty martinis. Although I have ensured I remain two drinks behind. And I’m all the more gratefulfor that when Sue comes close, her eyes definitely a little heavy with drunkenness.
“You know,” she says quietly, “I have to tell you, Amelia, I think I might quit if that Leighton makes partner.”
I snort. “Stop,” I whisper.
“No, I mean it. He’s a fucking snake. When you’ve been in this world as long as I have, you know one when you see one.”
“The guys like him,” I say, trying not to fish but unable to help myself. Opportunities like this do not present themselves often.
“Of course they like him. He’s a dick-swinging prick. They all are, truth be told. Some just know how to control their urges. Leighton’s young. Got something to prove to these dinosaurs.”
“And you?”
“What about me?”