Tall Poppies (18 page)

She’d had three days to settle in. Today was the first at work. Nina felt a rush of nerves, but they were swamped in her bolting excitement. Dragon HQ, after all, was not in Park Avenue, it was right here, south of the River Thames. She was going to work in the heart of the company, directly for the earl. Tony Savage, the Robber Baron, had ordered this posting personally.

Nina picked up her briefcase and set off for the Tube. Even London’s subway system beat New York: tickets and automated gates, no fumbling about with rolls of quarters and filthy tokens. A fast train would take her practically to her office door. She was over an hour early, and she couldn’t wait. New decade, new city, new job. Maybe she was finally getting somewhere.

‘Good morning, my lady.’

Elizabeth beamed at the receptionist as she handed over her security pass and a sheaf of company recruitment forms. They looked so official. Everything was great, even the wet, crowded streets full of businessmen barging past her, even the grey ugliness of the Dragon tower. She was used to being stopped and asked for an

47

autograph, but in the City, nobody gave her a second glance. That was great too. They were all serious people, seriously busy. Doing real work. She had been trying to gain admittance to this world for ever.

‘Mr Sweeney is the head of Personnel, and he asked if you could fill these in today.’

‘Of course, thanks,’ Elizabeth said.

‘New Products Division is on the ninth floor, just take the lift to your left.’

Elizabeth nodded and joined a crowd of men in dark suits. They immediately parted and let her stand at the front. When the lift arrived, everybody waited until she had stepped in.

‘What floor, Lady Elizabeth?’ a greyhaired executive hsked politely.

Elizabeth brushed back her glossy hair and told him, returning everybody’s beaming smiles. Of course they all knew who she was, she was famous. Everyone was going out of their way to be nice and welcoming. She felt super confident. Dad was wrong, she was going to fit in here jus[ fine.

‘Initial tests look promising.’ Tony grinned, seeing the flash of greed lighting up Frank Staunton’s eyes. ‘Appetite suppressant, amphetamine base.’

‘Could be big,’ Staunton agreed.

Fifty-five, Frank Staunton was thin and wiry, nicknamed the Terrier by his subordinates when his back was turned. He went after results like a dog after a rat, and he displayed utter loyalty to Savage, his master. Frank Staunton had run New Products for ten years, ever since Tony poached him from Glaxo. Most of his pay was stock options, so that Dragon’s success was his success. Frank loved money. Self-interest made him reliable.

Tony knew Frank would never leav.e. The carrot had been perfectly effective, and he was also keeping th.e stick

x48

in reserve. Photos of Frank in drag at clubs like Heaven; arms round a fourteen-year-old cherub on Hampstead Heath; getting his cock sucked in a notorious gents’ lavatory outside Waterloo Station. Not a portfolio he’d want flashed around the Travellers’ Club, or the Carlton. Or mailed to his wife. Tony had never had occasion to refer to them, but the thought made him relaxed. Frank, like all the big Dragon players, had a weakness. Whereas Tony had nothing but strengths.

Frank was discussing the prospects for the new slimming drug they were developing. If toxicity and addictive problems could be ironed out, they were looking at a whole new level of power and wealth. One tiny tablet for doctors to prescribe, and the stock would be on automatic pilot to the moon.

‘Your drones need to concentrate on this.’ Frank’nodded. ‘Including her young ladyship?’

Tony did not return the grin. He hadn’t forgotten that Elizabeth was coming in today. He had to find her something to do, something to keep her quiet. The necessity ached in him like a rotten tooth; even though it was temporary, it felt too much like a victory for her. Louise’s bastard, forcing her way into the heart of his kingdom. He grunted.

‘And we have some others new in this morning.’ The Terrier sensed his master’s blackening mood and changed the subject fast. ‘Joe Walsh, an analyst. Hotshot from Morgan Grenfell. Lionel White, a systems kid. The New Yorker.’

‘Nina Roth.’ Tony leaned forward, animated. ‘I forgot, she starts today.’

‘She’s working in the same area as Lady Elizabeth.’ Tony didn’t listen. His pulse quickened as he flashed on the girl from Brooklyn, with her strong accent and dark, grave beauty. Intelligence and drive combined with great tits, a great ass and a handspan waist. Very

49

different from his usual blonde bimbos, she was sexy, but a scrapper. Dimly he recalled some story about her firing her secretary when she was still a brand-new rookie. And she’d known who he was. Nina was different, very different.

Beneath his sober bespoke trousers Tony felt his cock

stir. Since Camilla Browning had got her marching orders he had only had Monica and one high-class hooker. He hated having to pay for it; mistresses were the better bet. His memories of the Roth girl sharpened into focus. She’d come up from the street, fast, still only twenty-one years old.

It occurred to him that was Elizabeth’s age. Fucking Nina would be like fucking one of her schoolfriends. What thought sharpened the twitch between his legs into a real hard-on.

‘Uh-huh.’ He was casual. ‘I’ll take the first meeting with you. I’m going to be working with some of them myself.’

‘Then you’d better come with me.’

Nina was shown into Frank Staunton’s office, where ten other people were waiting: nine men and a girl. Two of the men were in their early twenties, looking expectant. New hires like herself. The girl was probably a secretary. She was wearing a pretty little dress in a Liberty print, and fashionable high heels, together with bracelets and earrings. Nina smiled at them all.and began to introduce herself, but she kept one eye on the girl. There was something familiar about her, but she couldn’t place her. Was she a secretary? She must be. And yet she had a soft, rich look about her, a polish. The hands were manicured, the eyebrows beautifully plucked, and now she was a little closer, the bracelets were real, gold studded with diamonds. Plus, she was sitting on a chair like the executives. Nina felt confused, more so when she c.aught

a breath of expensive scent. Long, shiny hair worn loose, not even tied back for the office. Very beautiful, slim and delicate. Who’s the him? she thought. Sleeping with somebody?

The men were all smiling at the girl. There was a nervous deference in their body language. Nina frowned. She was sleeping with somebody important. Like Honor Feathers at Dolan, a talentless twenty-five-year-old piece of ass who was the managing director’s regular date. Honor had gotten promotions and raises so regularly you could set your watch by them, and all the boys had been terrified of her, because she told tales out of school and got her enemies fired. Nina had disliked Honor intensely. Women like that made it harder for all other women. She had more respect for whores - at least they were open about what they were doing. This beautiful rich chick set her teeth’on edge.

Elizabeth glanced up as Nina entered the room. A dark-haired, voluptuous woman, very young, wearing a tailored black suit, flat shoes and a steel watch. Immediately she blushed. The men’s quick glances of approval told her that this was the right look, this girl was wearing the right clothes. She felt embarrassed. Now the woman was shaking hands, briskly and impersonally. The others greeted her as one of them. No joking or banter, they were talking business right off the bat.

The girl came closer. Elizabeth heard an American accent. And then, she glanced right at Elizabeth and gave her an unmistakable look of icy derision.

Elizabeth bridled. So she’d got the Wardrobe wrong, so what? This girl looked her own age but she’d clearly been working for years. She hadn’t had to blackmail her way into an office. Dad’s company had hired her and given her a real chance. She’s got no business looking at me that way!

There was only one empty chair, right at the front, b

5

Elizabeth. Nina slid into it and sighed inwardly. There was no getting away with it. She offered her neighbour her hand.

‘Nina Roth. Just over from Manhattan. I cut my teeth with Dolan for a couple of years.’

The blonde showed no sign of recognising the name. Nina was shocked. Dolan was a big player, hadn’t the cutie here even heard of them?

‘I’m Elizabeth. I - well, this is my first job.’

The accent was plummy and patrician, accompanied by a little flick of the hair. The girlish gesture was out of place. What the luck was she doing in New Products? It was a vital division!

‘ ‘Oh. And what are you gonna be doing?’ Nina asked politely.

‘I’m not sure.’ Breathy upper-class voice was accompanied with rounded green eyes. ‘I expect they’re finding something for me to do.’

Nina was dumbstruck. She looked down at her lap in case anybody saw how pissed off she was. Finding

something for her to do!

‘Elizabeth who?’

Elizabeth heard the hostility and bridled. It had been a

long time since anyone had shown her contempt. ‘Lady Elizabeth Savage,’ she said coolly.

Nina looked at her sharply. Of course. Lady Elizabeth, the Brit skier, she’d seen her on CNN getting her medal with Jack Taylor. So, she wasn’t a girlfriend, she was a daughter. Christ, she was just playing around on Daddy’s patch. She hadn’t even heard of Dolan, and here she was. No messing around with experience or education for the boss’s kid.

Nina knew she should be sucking up, like all the men, but she couldn’t do it. The thought of her own struggles boiled up in her like acid.

‘And I’m Ms Nina Roth.’ The sarcasm was unmistakable. ‘You can call me Nina.’

One of the younger men behind Elizabeth sniggered, then clamped a hand across his mouth. Elizabeth blushed a rich red. Bitch! Who did the Yank think she was? She spun round to fire something back but at that moment the door swung open and Frank Staunton walked in. Followed by her father.

‘London. Y’all have to be kidding.’

Jack reached down and patted Queen of Arabia on her sleek white neck. It was still cool enough in the early morning, but the gallop around his Texas farm had left him sweating and sore. Pop looked comfortable enough, but he lived in the saddle. Plus, he’d set Jack up on this fine, half-tamed mare, a huge beast, gorgeous but hard to control. Like Elizabeth.

‘No. I’m used to Europe from the circuit.’

That was plausible. He might buy that.

John Taylor, Sr, waved a hand at the vista before them, the green lawns kept lush by sprinklers, the palm trees, gaudy flowers and rows of neat stables. Jack had loved the stud farm since he was knee high.

‘But we keep the horses here. Main office, here. Major hotels. London’s just an outpost, boy.’ The sharp blue eyes twinkled. ‘You’re hidin’ something.’

Jack shook his head and squeezed his knees round the mare’s flank, to still her. ‘I think we’re wasting opportunities over there. Too many Brit and Irish stables need good studs, we’re ignoring that marlet. Waiting for them to come to us. Plus, there are horses we never see. Meets we don’t go to.’

‘Y’all only have a few months off,’ John said shrewdly. ‘Exactly.’ Jack pounced. ‘Not enough time to do anything major here, but I can see if we’re missing anything in London.’

I53

‘OK, if that’s how you wanna spend Christmas.’ His father snorted. ‘This ain’t about a girl, son? You got era’ linin’ up in Dallas! You didn’t used to chase any pussy halfway round the world.’

Jack almost blushed. ‘C’mon, you know me. No girl’s worth making a fuss over.’

‘I know you.’ John spurred his stallion round to face

the woods, preparing for another run. ‘That’s the problem, son.’

Tony listened with one ear as Frank ran through the new protocols. Most of the men in this room knew exactly what they had to do. The new kids were thrown in at the ,deep end.

He was watching the men take notes. Joe Walsh knew the market - he would be ferreting out info on their competitors, finding out what Glaxo, ICI and SmithKline had in the pipeline. Lionel White was already sketching computer codes for a modelling system, seeing how the numbers would affect them.

Elizabeth was writing it all down, laboriously, occasionally looking up at him and catching his frown. She seemed uncomfortable, out of her depth. He bit back a smile; her defiant streak would mean trouble unless he found her some pretence of a role.

Nina Roth sat next to her. He liked what he saw. She wasn’t writing, she was drinking it all in. Leaning forwards, straining at the leash .like a bloodhound, her thick, raven hair fell heavily round her high cheekbones, the young, pale skin dusted with excited pink. Under that sombre suit her body was magnificent. The breasts looked heavy, but still firm with youth. Her ankles and calves turned beautifully, her ass flared out from a tiny waist. Unlike his boyish, muscular daughter, Nina was womanly, all curves. A go-getter. Nothing ladylike about her. His imagination stripped her slowly, so she was

x54

sitting there naked. He knew she was aware of him, nervous in his presence. Her eyes kept sliding towards him, and if he caught her looking, she blushed and glanced back at Frank.

The earl was good at body language. Elizabeth sat stiffly next to Nina. For her part, Nina’s eyes never even flickered towards Elizabeth’s busy pad; the gesture was contemptuous, like, I’ll never need notes.

Nina didn’t know how he felt about Elizabeth. If she pissed off the chairman’s daughter, she was taking a big risk. He wasn’t used to females who did that.

Tony smiled. He’d made it a rule not to mess his own doorstep, but none of the pretty, blonde and bland girls stuffing Personnel or PR had ever really excited him. Not like the curvy, prickly little Brooklyn smartass.

His hard-on was refusing to go away. Rules were made to be broken.