Page 57 of The Girlfriend Clause
“Without putting too fine a point on it, we’ll have our work cut out for us if he’s going to take you seriously.”
I kept my eyes on the road. “Because of the—”
“Because you spent six months in a psychiatric facility after Afghanistan, yes. And because every tabloid in London has run at least three stories about your… let’s call them ‘enthusiastic social activities’ since you got out.” She paused. “Hugo’s not going to risk his reputation on a regulatory favor for someone unstable. Right now, you look like a man who’s either running from something or running toward the next breakdown.”
“And cupcakes will fix that, I assume?” Behind her, the Shard sliced into the sky, its mirrored panels and sharp edges throwing light in every direction.
Bonnie smiled like she’d just sucked an unripe lemon. “Hugo will remember you—I’m sure he remembers all his son’s close friends—but cupcakes to the EA never hurt. It’ll warm her up. She’ll give me Hugo’s schedule.”
Of course. Not so much thoughtful as manipulative. Oh well. On second thought, she probably hired someone to do her Christmas decorations to match her decor.
“Didn’t you stay with them once or twice in the school holidays?” Bonnie tugged at the tangled ends of her hair. She looked like she’d been in a wind tunnel.
I nodded. “Ben and I did. At their place in Surrey. Nick invited us.”
“Oh, I didn’t realize you both knew them. That’s helpful. Nick and Juliette are getting married, by the way. You can drop in your congrats when you see Hugo. People love it when you ask after their kids.”
“Thanks for the coaching.” Political networking, brilliant. I’d rather chug a pint of cold puke.
To the right, the Thames flashed in glimpses between buildings. A tourist boat slid past below the level of the road, its white wake curling behind it.
“I know you’re not keen on this sort of thing,” she said. “But I think you’re going to have to get on with it.”
The truth was, I rather liked Hugo, and not just because he was my friend’s father. He and his family had always been good to my brother and me. What I didn’t like was the idea ofexploiting our connection to help my business. But that was the game I was in now.
“Just let me know where I need to be, and when.”
“I’ll book you in to whatever he’s got next in his diary,” she said.
The Novexia building loomed ahead. I dropped the car into second as we approached and slid into the underground car park. Bonnie tugged the beanie off and realized, too late, that it was stuck to her dangly earring.
“Ouch. Oh my God, fuck this car!” She untangled the hat and threw it in the back as if it were a rodent that had personally attacked her. Her hair was plastered to her scalp, the ends splayed out at all angles. “Don’t look at my fucking hair.” The words were a vicious growl. “This is your fault.”
I stifled a laugh. Did I hear her mutter “dick” under her breath? Surely not. I decided to ignore it.
She swiped her phone open. “Okay, your session with the elevator girl is lined up for nine thirty.”
“Andrea is her name,” I said.
“Hm. And you know what to say?”
“I’ll clear the air. Set things on a professional footing. It seems quite simple.”
“It always does to you, Liam.”
I hopped out and held the door for her. She swung out her calves and resentfully extended a hand for me to pull her up from the low seat, glowering. I didn’t recall Bond’s leading ladies ever looking like they were wedged in a tire swing.
“Please consider the risk your recent behavior has created.” Bonnie steadied herself, then leaned over and grabbed her laptop and handbag from the tiny back seat. She straightened and attempted to run her fingers through her hair before realizing it was futile.
“And under no circumstances are you to admit liability or apologize. That’s probably what she wants, if she’s planning something. If she tricks you into saying you’re sorry, you might as well take out an ad in theTimessaying you’re a sexual predator. Women are all over that right now. Don’t you read the news? Of course you don’t.” Bonnie shook her head. “I’ll message you some stories. That might wake you up.”
“I don’t needwaking up,” I said. “She’s not like that.”
“Oh Liam. This woman is in sales. They’re basically paid to manipulate you.”
“Like lawyers then?” I said under my breath.
Bonnie glared at me. “They’re professional charmers, Liam. Get a grip.” She paused. “You know, she might even try to record you.”
