Page 17 of Guilty Pleasures

‘Don’t give me that, Mark,’ she said turning on her heel. ‘You knew.’

‘Emma. Don’t get so worked up. What’s the big hurry? You’ll make partner next year.’

She stopped and turned back, her eyes blazing.

‘Next year? Or perhaps the next? Or whenever you let Daniel Davies know that I’ve suitably matured?’

Mark went pale.

‘What are you talking about?’

‘Davies told me about your recommendation, that I wasn’t ready for partner. Not quite the same line of bullshit you have been feeding me for the past two months, is it?’

‘Now come on,’ he said, putting out his arms towards her, ‘that’s not what I said.’

‘Oh really?’ she challenged. ‘He seemed very clear about it.’

‘He’s obviously taken what I said the wrong way …’

The snake, thought Emma, walking off in disgust. Mark chased her, grabbing her arm.

‘Davies thinks you brought in the Frost Industries as well. Apparently you told him so. Or did he take that the wrong way as well?’

‘Come on Em, let’s talk about this. I thought we were going to have supper.’

‘You betrayed me, Mark,’ she said her voice thick with emotion. She was desperate not to cry but she could feel the tears welling up and stinging the backs of her eyes.

Mark turned away then faced her.

He looked as if he was about to keep denying it but finally he simply shrugged his shoulders.

‘OK. You’re right. I happen to think you’re not ready to be a partner,’ said Mark flatly. ‘You are a good business strategist, but you’re too soft. You don’t even have the balls to fire that dim secretary of yours. You’re an academic, not a corporate player. You’re too nice to make tough decisions. You’re just not ready to play with the big boys.’

‘And Pete Wise is ready? Jack Johnson is ready? Does being on your softball team make you ready for partnership? I’m good, Mark,’ she pleaded. ‘You know it.’

‘You do well at Harvard and you think the world owes you a favour,’ he laughed scornfully.

‘I trusted you to tell the truth,’ she said quietly. ‘I trusted you to tell people like Daniel Davies that I was the best. But no, you surround yourself with yes-men, idiots who will make you look good.’

‘Fucking you could have cost me my job and this is all the thanks I get,’ he said sneeringly Droplets of rains began to fall. They were like slaps on the cheek.

‘Fucking me,’ she repeated quietly. ‘Is that what it was to you?’

Mark glared at her, then waved a dismissive hand in the air.

‘Ah, you needy women are all the fucking same: Davies is right, you probably do want to run off and have a baby.’

She looked at him. The man she had whispered ‘I love you’ to, the man she had admired and trusted, had withered to a sycophant and a liar, a man who lived off other people’s hard work and talent. She knew she was better than him, but there was little doubt he had played the game better than her. The likes of Daniel Davies would never know how much she put into the company, how much profit was directly down to her efforts and talent because operators like Mark Eisner took the glory for himself.

Waves were beginning to whip up in the harbour and rain was beginning to fall more heavily. Lights on the skyscrapers behind her sent a muddled saffron glow into the shallow puddles. She was angry, confused, but she was sure about one thing.

‘I don’t ever want to see you again,’ she said as evenly as she could.

‘Emma, don’t be ridiculous,’ he said, the tone of his voice softening. ‘We have to work together.’

‘Do we?’

She thought of Winterfold, that crazy jumble of antiques and bric-a-brac, she thought of the lazy village and its single red telephone box, all of it a million miles away from this corporate jungle. Saul had trusted her to take over his entire company. Saul had faith in her. And suddenly so did Emma.