Tall Poppies (19 page)

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Elizabeth leaned over and pressed the button on her treadmill, pushing it up to maximum. It was already tilting at an angle, simulating uphill running. The responsive growl from the machinery blasted her ears; her space was by far the loudest in the Chelsea gym.

Several flabby ladies-who-lunch looked over, annoyed. ‘ Elizabeth was drowning out their new Sorry Walkmans as they pedalled sedately on stationary bikes or trod slowly up a Stairmaster. Elizabeth was aware of them dimly, like she was clocking the admiring stares from the men’s weights room next door, although she couldn’t care less. Nothing mattered but the workout.

“Her strong body was clothed in the bare minimum. Hi tech sneakers, Lycra cycling shorts and a leotard in icing sugar pastels. Blonde hair swept back and up in a raised ponytail, to keep it out of her eyes. The heart-rate monitor was flashing, but she didn’t have time to look down. Sweat dewed her body, her fringe was plastered to her forehead. Arms raised for maximum motion. Balls of the feet pushing off the rubber with every pulse. Her heart beating like a roadside drill, Elizabeth Savage lost herself in vicious, punishing speed. She’d already done the weights and the crunches, training every major muscle group in the upper body. Now the endurance

work.

In under an hour she’d be reporting to that utter bitch,

Nina Roth. This was a pleasure in comparison.

The thought of Nina drove Elizabeth into a fu.ry, feet

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flying up the mechanical hill. They called her the Brooklyn Bomber in the office, the men, almost admiringly. She still hadn’t worked out what Nina did but she sure was good at it. Phone glued to her fucking ear, barking orders and tapping out computer programs and talking science gobbledygook Elizabeth couldn’t work out. Never losing an opportunity to put Elizabeth down.

Dad had given her the job she begged for. Advertising on New Products. But whatever she suggested to Nina, the cow lost no time in vetoing. It was so unfair: Jake and Richard and Dino, the other advertising guys, all loved her ideas, but Nina stopped her work from getting anywhere.

Anger burned in her face as bright as exertion. Bitch! Nina had a chance to learn; Elizabeth never would. And Nina was Daddy’s bright-eyed little girl. She worked directly for him, she was his right-hand girl on the slimming drug thing. Elizabeth hated the way she smarmed up to Tony. Those two deserved each other.

She leaned forwards to increase resistance, throwing herself into the final burst. Elizabeth needed her fitness. While she was struggling at Dragon, Heidi Laufen was practising in the Alps.

Tony Savage stepped out of his car and paused while his chauffeur handed over. his briefcase. Breakfast at the Connaught had been light: coffee, bacon and toast for him, enough to stave off hunger without dulling his senses. Not that there had been much danger of that. Sir Leo York, his companion, gorged himself on eggs, kippers and pastries, with a bottle of Krug. Leo called it a champagne breakfast to celebrate the deal. Tony called it a surefire sign of a lush.

He had been the one doing the celebrating. Disposing of Idun Cosmetics had completed his firesale of Loki Medicine. Leo overpaid. Now Tony was only left with

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the key labs division. The disposal of the rest covered his original payment. It was like getting a company for free, plus twelve million cash as a bonus.

Tony’s blood sang as he walked into the building. He checked his Tag Heuer sports watch. Ten to eight.

In the express elevator Tony went over his plans for the

day. Talk to New York and Sydney. Interview with the FT at lunch. Strategic planning in the afternoon. Tory donors do at the Opera House tonight.

He was pumped up, he wanted to celebrate.

Almost without thinking Lord Caerhaven unlocked his office, went straight to his phone and dialled the extension for Nina Roth.

INina glanced at the scrolling text on her computer screen. The glass reflected the view behind her, the wide Thames glittering in the chill winter sun, commuter traffic streaming across Westminster Bridge, the Houses of Parliament grey and forbidding in the background. But it had been weeks since she’d noticed the view.

“l’he earl had assigned her to his own task force. She supervised Lionel’s computer modelling and found out which companies Joe should be investigating. That meant research, and lots of it. She had to find out who their most likely competitors were, and how far their slimming projects had come; what the distribution impact would be; and how it might affect their antitrust status. Nina gathered facts all day.

Because she was Tony’s direct inferior, the boys at Dragon fell over themselves to help her. It was the total opposite of New York. She felt she was finally making inroads. The world drug market was cominginto sharper focus, like a city emerging from a blanket fog.

If only she didn’t have to waste her time with that stuck-up Sloane, Lady Elizabeth. Nina couldn’t stand her: the prissy, entitled air, the super-confidence of. a star

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and an aristo at the same time. Elizabeth kept offering stupid ideas, but all the boys here couldn’t wait to tell her how great they were. Elizabeth was rude to her own father, she was bolshy with Nina, she took every opportunity of rubbing her nose in it. ‘No better than you ought to be.’ That was the Brit expression. Lady Elizabeth’s slap in the face: you’re just a piece of Yankee white trash from the wrong side of the tracks, whatever

suits you wear or job you do.

The phone trilled.

‘Nina?’ She started as she recognised the cut-glass tones. Lord C. ‘You’re in early.’

‘I’ve been at my desk for an. hour,’ Nina shot back without thinking, then bit her lip. Oh, God. You didn’t cheek Tony Savage.

‘Glad to hear it. You should be up to speed on the FDA scan, then.’

‘Yes, sir,’ Nina said quickly. She glanced down at her dress, a dark red cropped affair with a long, slimming jacket, by Jil Sander. Wolford tights, low Cartier heels, and fortunately, she was already made up. The earl expected all Dragon employees to look polished and pulled together.

‘Then come upstairs to my office,’ Lord Caerhaven said.

‘Yes, sir. Right away’

Nina carefully replaced the receiver on the hook and took a deep breath. One on one with the Robber Baron. It was the kind of chance she used to daydream about.

As she stood up she saw her hands were trembling.

Tony’s office was fairly modest. It had a private bathroom off to one side which was shut, and a secretary’s annexe as yet deserted. Neat windows looked north over the Thames to Soho. The d6cor was light and modern. It was far more impressive than Jax’s clubby cavern on

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Park Avenue, or Frank Staunton’s expensive art; Tony Savage, Nina realised, didn’t need the English gentleman look, because everyone knew he was one.

The earl was sitting behind his desk, waiting for her, wearing a dark, nondescript suit, immaculately cut. His hair was close-cropped chestnut, only lightly speckled with silver. His eyes were hazel and he had a broad, strong chest. He looked powerful physically as well as financially. There was something-cold about the alert speculation in his eyes. Nina sensed a fresh, spicy scent; Floris maybe, the lightest tang, pleasant but perfectly masculine.

Anthony Savage was the best-groomed man she’d ever

seen. He looked almost predatory. He wore no jewellery ‘except a gold signet ring, stamped with his family crest.

Nina had heard all the rumours. Now she wondered if they were true. He wasn’t pretty, but his sexuality was magnetic.

She blushed. She couldn’t believe it, she felt a ripple of desire. Something she hadn’t felt since Jeff Glazer.

Tony Savage was more man than a million Brooklyn high-school jocks.

Watch it, girl, she told herself, you are out of your league.

‘Take a seat.”

Tony looked at the new kid. Short, but exquisite. Alabaster skin and a long, refined nose. A stylish suit that played up the coal-black eyes and hair. And close up,

those curves were even more impressive.

He settled back languidly.

‘I sold Idun this morning. For eighty.’

‘Eighty?’ Nina asked. Tony watched the wheels in her brain whirr; the very tip of her tongue touched the dark berry gloss on her full lips. ‘That’s twelve million more than it’s worth.’

‘That’s what I thought,’ Tony said. He was impressed:

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she’d pegged the market value off the top of her head. ‘Tell me about the FDA.’

Nina swallowed drily. She had news she was sure this man did not want to hear.

‘They don’t like drugs based on amphetamines, and even with those they sanction, you have class action suits. A single bad reaction, a good lawyer, and you have a dented quarterly or worse. The appetite suppressant has an addictive effect and suppresses various auto-immune responses. I found well over thirty landmark rulings over eight separate states, then you have Federal liability …’

Tony watched Nina as she blasted through her findings. It was good work, well presented. She wasn’t flinching; no soft soap or small talk. He enjoyed the rhythmic swell of her breasts and the sharp little hand gestures she used, long, elegant fingers tapering down to blood-r nails. Her calves slithered against each other. Despite the grown-up dressing and clever talk, she was very, very young.

‘Hmm,’ he said when she had finished. ‘So the drug won’t work?’

‘Not in its present form.’

He leaned forwards.

‘I want a slimming drug. One that they will ratify.’ ‘Yes, sir.’ Nina didn’t know what else she could say.

Tony looked at her; his gaze was hypnotic. ‘And how

are you settling in? Do you like London?’

‘Very much, In’

‘How are you getting on with my daughter?’

Nina coloured. She felt fearful again. ‘I, that is, she—’ Tony cut her off. ‘You think she’s a waste of space?’ Nina thought fast. Somehow, she knew that if she lied, this man would know. ‘Well, Elizabeth’s learning,’ she replied.

Elizabeth. Tony noticed the deliberate lack of a title. She had balls, this girl, something he usually hated. In

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Nina it was erotic. Maybe it was the contrast, the rounded softness of her body and the hard coldness of her manner.

‘I agree with you. I don’t think work is any place for a young lady.’

Nina flinched. It was like a punch to the gut. He didn’t think she was a lady, then? Too common, wasn’t that what the English called it?

On the other hand, he was looking at her like an equal. Giving her an amazing job for a new kid. Power and

position she hadn’t thought she’d get for years.

‘No, no place for a lady - o.r a gentleman.’

Tony glanced up sharply. The girl was staring at him

boldly, her pale cheeks flushed from her challenge.

‘I could have you fired.’

Nina lowered her eyes. She had the thickest lashes he’d ever seen. ‘Yes,’ she said, ‘my lord.’

He almost laughed. She was fencing with him. No female had tried that on with him since Louise. But Nina was no Louise; she was earthy, she was street, she was JeWish. Tony could handle her, easily.

‘We still need to find a plan B for the drug. Do some thinking. We’ll have dinner tonight at the Groucho, eight p.m.’

Nina stood up. ‘Right. Thanks for the invitation.’

‘It wasn’t an invitation,’ Tony Savage said.

‘This won’t work. It’s flashy, consumer orientated.’ Nina didn’t bother to hide her exasperation. ‘You keep coming

to me with ad campaigns.’

‘It’s a good idea.’

Elizabeth burned with resentment. Her ads for their Soothex throat pastels were arresting, original. Dino loved them.

‘It’s not what I asked you to do, Elizabeth.’

‘Lady Elizabeth,’ Elizabeth snapped. She couldn’t help

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it; something about Nina’s dismissive attitude made her lash out.

The two girls glared at each other. The men in the room stood stock-still; you could almost see their ears pricking up. Nina felt adrenalin surge through her.

‘I don’t think so. Social titles are not appropriate in the office. Not for a junior.’

Elizabeth flushed darkly.

Nina spoke up, so the rest of the room could hear her. ‘If you have a problem with that, you could take it up with your father. I’ll be happy to call you Lady Elizabeth, if he tells me to. Otherwise we’ll keep it informal.’

There was a pause, then Elizabeth muttered, ‘That’s fine.’

Nina brushed a lock of black hair out of her eyes. Now she wanted to smooth things over.

‘I love your bracelet, by the way. It’s gorgeous.’ She gestured to a thick silver cuff around Elizabeth’s [eft wrist, covered in delicate engravings of ferns and ivy. ‘Where did you buy it? I’d adore one.’

The other girl looked up at her. The green eyes were chips of ice, the aristocratic brows lifted in supercilious disdain.

‘I don’t buy my jewellery, I inherit it.’

Now it was Nina’s turn to stiffen. ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t realise you were so grand.’

‘Don’t worry, Nina. You couldn’t possibly know about things like that. Considering your background.’

Nina paled as the insult went-home. For a moment, the two young women just glared at each other. Then Elizabeth gathered up her rejected work and walked back to her own department.

Nina stepped out of the taxi and tipped the driver almost absentmindedly. It had been a rush, racing home at quarter of seven, tearing off her suit, fixing her face at th

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speed of light. She knew the earl would not expect her to change for dinner, but she wanted to be impressive in every way.

A three-quarter black Prada jacket covered her dress, a loose, flowing sheath of Thai silk in metallic blue. The bright reds and charcoals of the day had been replaced with subtler shades: clover on her full lips, plum across her cheekbones, nails painted silver to match her necklace. The lids over her dark eyes were slate-grey, blue and black; all the colours of a dark English sky. Nina’s black hair fell thickly over a grey cashmere wrap. The mirror had been kind; she was stunning, and she knew it.