pretty swish restaurant they were meeting in – so maybe things were looking up in her relationship after all. Stepping off the elevator, she almost whistled at the view. Ruth never tired of the other-worldly futurescape of Canary Wharf: the chequerboard yellow lights of the offices and the clean modernist angles of the architecture. It was like a science fiction film set come to life, a strange secret city hidden away around the corner from the rest of London.
The maître d’ pointed her towards the bar area, where she saw David almost immediately. He was sitting at the bar laughing – with a pretty girl in a miniskirt. Great .
‘Oh, hi, Ruthie,’ he said, rising from his bar stool as he spotted her. ‘Come and meet Susie, she’s a lobbyist with Lorna Steele.’
Of course , thought Ruth, a PR girl. Aren’t they always? Not a great beauty up close, but blonde and young enough to flatter David, that much was obvious. The girl clearly caught the look on Ruth’s face, because she stood up.
‘Listen, I’ve got to be going,’ she said quickly, picking up her clutch.
‘Stay for another one,’ said David.
Susie shook her head.
‘It’s late. Lovely meeting you, David. You too, Ruth,’ she added, before swaying towards the lift on five-inch heels.
Fifteen years younger and ten times as hungry. What hope is there for the rest of us? thought Ruth, watching her leave. Her long legs, her tight ass. It didn’t help that David was three years younger than Ruth. He’d once called her his cougar and she’d sulked for three days. At least he’d laid off that line of teasing ever since.
‘So, want a drink?’ said David, slightly too eagerly. It looked as if he was on his third, at least.
‘Why don’t we eat?’
He laughed. ‘You’re joking, aren’t you? We’ll have to take out a mortgage just to get a starter.’
‘But it’s fine to buy overpriced cocktails with Susie?’
His handsome features frowned.
‘What’s got into you?’
Ruth stopped herself. After her confrontation with Jim, the last thing she needed tonight was a public row. She just wanted a nice night out, to have fun, for David tell her everything was going to be all right. And she wasn’t going to get that by screaming at him for talking to some floozy.
She waved a hand. ‘Sorry, sorry,’ she said, capitulating. ‘Just a bad day at work.’
David raised a finger to get the barman’s attention.
‘Vodka tonic. Double. Slice of lemon.’
He turned to look at her.
‘So come on, tell me. What’s happened? Jim Keane’s been dick-swinging again?’
‘Is my working life so predictable?’
She took the vodka and sipped it slowly as she told him about the editorial meeting at the Tribune , about the escort story she had been working on, and how Jim had nixed it before she had time to investigate it properly. David leant forward on the bar, his eyes twinkling with the same excitement as she had felt earlier today when she’d been piecing together the story. Sometimes it was good dating a journalist – the same hunger for news.
‘Bloody hell, if you’re right that’s a fantastic story,’ he said. ‘Not just for the Tribune , but for the Germans, for us, for anyone. I can’t believe he doesn’t want to follow it up.’
Ruth stabbed at the lemon in her drink with a swizzle stick.
‘We’re both on trial for the bureau chief job, remember? And I have more to prove because he’s already in the job. He’s not going to want me to get the glory, is he?’
‘So don’t tell him,’ said David. ‘Write it under the radar. Smile sweetly, do the Angela Ahrendts profile and whatever else Jim throws at you. In the meantime, you find your scoop, then file it directly to Isaac.’
Ruth shook her head. She had already thought of that approach and dismissed it.
‘I don’t know. Isaac is going to see right through that. And Jim will go ballistic. In fact he’ll probably have me fired.’
David gave a low, slow laugh.
The maître d’ pointed her towards the bar area, where she saw David almost immediately. He was sitting at the bar laughing – with a pretty girl in a miniskirt. Great .
‘Oh, hi, Ruthie,’ he said, rising from his bar stool as he spotted her. ‘Come and meet Susie, she’s a lobbyist with Lorna Steele.’
Of course , thought Ruth, a PR girl. Aren’t they always? Not a great beauty up close, but blonde and young enough to flatter David, that much was obvious. The girl clearly caught the look on Ruth’s face, because she stood up.
‘Listen, I’ve got to be going,’ she said quickly, picking up her clutch.
‘Stay for another one,’ said David.
Susie shook her head.
‘It’s late. Lovely meeting you, David. You too, Ruth,’ she added, before swaying towards the lift on five-inch heels.
Fifteen years younger and ten times as hungry. What hope is there for the rest of us? thought Ruth, watching her leave. Her long legs, her tight ass. It didn’t help that David was three years younger than Ruth. He’d once called her his cougar and she’d sulked for three days. At least he’d laid off that line of teasing ever since.
‘So, want a drink?’ said David, slightly too eagerly. It looked as if he was on his third, at least.
‘Why don’t we eat?’
He laughed. ‘You’re joking, aren’t you? We’ll have to take out a mortgage just to get a starter.’
‘But it’s fine to buy overpriced cocktails with Susie?’
His handsome features frowned.
‘What’s got into you?’
Ruth stopped herself. After her confrontation with Jim, the last thing she needed tonight was a public row. She just wanted a nice night out, to have fun, for David tell her everything was going to be all right. And she wasn’t going to get that by screaming at him for talking to some floozy.
She waved a hand. ‘Sorry, sorry,’ she said, capitulating. ‘Just a bad day at work.’
David raised a finger to get the barman’s attention.
‘Vodka tonic. Double. Slice of lemon.’
He turned to look at her.
‘So come on, tell me. What’s happened? Jim Keane’s been dick-swinging again?’
‘Is my working life so predictable?’
She took the vodka and sipped it slowly as she told him about the editorial meeting at the Tribune , about the escort story she had been working on, and how Jim had nixed it before she had time to investigate it properly. David leant forward on the bar, his eyes twinkling with the same excitement as she had felt earlier today when she’d been piecing together the story. Sometimes it was good dating a journalist – the same hunger for news.
‘Bloody hell, if you’re right that’s a fantastic story,’ he said. ‘Not just for the Tribune , but for the Germans, for us, for anyone. I can’t believe he doesn’t want to follow it up.’
Ruth stabbed at the lemon in her drink with a swizzle stick.
‘We’re both on trial for the bureau chief job, remember? And I have more to prove because he’s already in the job. He’s not going to want me to get the glory, is he?’
‘So don’t tell him,’ said David. ‘Write it under the radar. Smile sweetly, do the Angela Ahrendts profile and whatever else Jim throws at you. In the meantime, you find your scoop, then file it directly to Isaac.’
Ruth shook her head. She had already thought of that approach and dismissed it.
‘I don’t know. Isaac is going to see right through that. And Jim will go ballistic. In fact he’ll probably have me fired.’
David gave a low, slow laugh.
Similar Books
