Page 29 of Stuck

“I’m a patron of the charity that runs it.”

As commendable as that was, it didn’t answer my question, which I suspected was deliberate. I didn’t push it; Darcy was not a talker. A fact that had me rethinking my initial reaction—that getting through to such a sombre, laconic guy when you were at your lowest point would be less than ideal. On second thought, I bet he was a really good listener.

“Well, it’s a laudable way to spend your Friday night. Going to the pub feels frivolous now.”

His expression softened. “I have no doubt you’ll brighten people’s evening every bit as much as I’m able to. Probably more.”

I had no idea what to say to that, it was so unexpected. He looked as though he wished he hadn’t said it, too, and when the lift came to a halt in the next moment and the doors pinged open, he couldn’t hurl himself out into the lobby quickly enough. With a curt goodnight, he strode through the security barriers and disappeared out of the building.

14

ELIZABETH

“Darcy’s not joining us, then?”

Still a little bemused, I turned around to see my line manager, Don, arriving at the bottom of the stairs.

“Nope.”

“Right, well, walk this old man to the end of the street, then, will you?”

I scoffed, because however old he was—and my best guess would be late forties at most—Don ran ultra marathons for fun and was fitter than most twenty-year-olds I knew. “Come on, then, Grandpa, if you think you can make it that far.”

He held the front door open for me, and we were immediately assaulted by a gust of chilly autumn wind. Don pulled his collar up, grumbling, and set a pace that belied his claim to old age.

“Hey, Don, while I’ve got you…”

“Uh-oh. What do you want, Bennet?”

“I was wondering whether you’d thought any more about Jerry’s paper?”

“Is he paying you?”

“No, why?”

“You’re pestering me about this almost as much as he is. We must really need his analysis.”

I laughed. “We do, but that’s not why I’m asking. It’s a good paper.” I knew because I’d gone through it with a fine-tooth comb, marking up all the parts I knew Don would want to check for contraventions.

He sighed. “You’re right, it is. Fine, I’ll arrange for an exemption to publish. He’s probably got the right idea anyway. A few well-placed articles always look good on the CV, and we could all be looking for new jobs if Bingley’s gamble with Vertex goes tits up.”

My head whipped around. “Is that a possibility?”

He swore under his breath and gave a chagrined shake of his head. “No! I’m catastrophising. It’s been a long week. Do me a favour and pretend I didn’t say that.”

“Um, okay…”

We reached the pub, and Don paused at the door, fixing me with a reassuring look. “I don’t want you to worry—I really was joking. The company might be stretched in the first few years after the takeover, but that’s to be expected; Vertex has a lot of overheads. But the board have been planning this for a long time. It’ll all come right.”

“Okay,” I said again, more confidently this time.

He nodded decisively before preceding me inside. I tripped over someone’s bag as I wove between the tables in his wake, whacking my thigh on the back of their chair, but I was too distracted to do more than mumble an apology. I wasn’t worried about what Don had said for myself—I was a contractor, employed by someone else—but for Bingley, the gamble must be super stressful.

As always, it was raucously loud in the Wig, and I had to shout to make myself heard behind Don. “I do wonder why Bingley isn’t going down the route of licensing out the tech once we’ve got the patent. Then he wouldn’t have to bother with a single takeover; he could roll out licences across the whole sector.”

Don shook his head. “I can’t see him handing over any rights to anyone, let alone his biggest competitor. He’s very protective over what was his father’s invention, and rightly so.” Reaching the throng at the bar, he asked me, “What’ll it be?”

“Pinot Grigio, please—and a lime and soda for Fiona from accounts, if you don’t mind.” I stood aside so as not to impinge on his efforts to catch a bartender’s eye. Addressing his profile, I said, “People are often put off by the idea of giving away IP, but if it’s done properly—selectively—it can be surprisingly lucrative. Vertex don’t need most of what we’re developing. Bingley could package up the irrigation solution as an isolated offering and keep the rest under wraps. From what I understand of their model, I think they’d go for it.”