office to discuss the numbers for the next networking event. It was to be held in the basement of the Marriott off Grosvenor Square, and had somehow ended up costing one hundred and twenty-five quid a ticket. Daniel thought that was outrageous (‘Who has a spare hundred quid for NETWORKING!’ he’d said to Lorenzo, ranting about it one night. ‘Well, to be honest with you mate, if I didn’t get off my tits every weekend, I would,’ Lorenzo had unhelpfully replied.)
‘Daniel?’ said the woman walking towards him down the corridor. He shifted his gaze to the left of where he’d been looking, towards the elevator. He thought he’d heard somebody laughing, and it was such a joyous, child-like giggle he felt compelled to see who it belonged to.
The woman calling his name continued: ‘I’m Gaby.’
‘Gaby,’ said Daniel, reaching out a hand in greeting. ‘Michael has said such great things about you,’ he lied, smiling.
Gaby laughed, and motioned for him to follow her.
‘We both know that isn’t true,’ she said.
Daniel said nothing in response, sensing danger, as he was led into a corner meeting room. The only noise was the shuffle of their feet along the cheap office carpeting, until the maze of glass partitions ended in Gaby’s office. It took up a huge corner of the building, with a north-west view that looked out across the River Thames and towards Parliament.
‘So, I gather we’ve got a little problem,’ Gaby continued, barely taking a breath between her welcome and getting to the point of the matter. Her bum hadn’t reached the seat before she’d launched in. She looked like a newsreader, with the city splayed out behind her that way.
Daniel laughed. ‘I don’t deal in problems, Gaby, I’m a solutions man.’ He smiled widely. ‘So I come in peace.’
Gaby visibly softened.
‘Right,’ she said. ‘Sorry. Yes. God, Michael warned me you were charismatic.’ She smiled, but barely. It was coy and controlled. Daniel briefly wondered if she was flirting with him.
‘I just think,’ he said, ‘let’s move it to The Flying Pig and keep it under twenty-five quid a head, and make the focus the actual networking: not how flashy it is.’ He saw a dark cloud pass over Gaby’s face. ‘With all due respect, of course,’ he added. Now he understood why he’d sensed danger before: this was a woman used to telling people what to do – not being told.
‘The Flying Pig?’
‘Yeah, by the Barbican? Nice and central, still has white tablecloths … I used to go to school with the bar manager there. If it’s on a Monday, he can do us a deal.’
‘A deal,’ Gaby repeated, somewhat amused.
Daniel smiled again, sensing she was coming around. ‘I’m a man who knows a man,’ he said, shrugging. ‘And that man can make this actually affordable to those of us saving for a flat deposit.’
Gaby laughed. She said she got his point.
They sat in the meeting room for twenty-five minutes, hammering out the logistics of the event and dividing up the tasks. Gaby was good at delegating, and fired off emails from her phone as they talked, ticking things off her list as quickly as she added them, and together they switched their plan, making it more cost-effective, but keeping the roving magician. Tickets would be thirty-five pounds, with an in-built donation to a charity they would decide on later.
‘Well,’ Daniel said, looking at his watch. ‘We’ve made fast work of this. It’s 9 a.m., so I’ve got to get across the road to my office, but I’ll cc. you in on an email to Gary once I’ve got the numbers from the caterer, and then leave the rest to you.’
‘Great. Thank you,’ said Gaby, adding, ‘and Michael was right: you put the right perspective on this. I don’t know what I was thinking with the ticket price. I suppose I just wanted my first shot on the team to make a mark, is all.’
‘No worries,’ said Daniel. ‘I just, you know, I like a bargain, is all.’
Gaby smiled. ‘Sure thing.’
‘How do you know Michael, anyway?’ Daniel couldn’t help but ask her, mostly because the twitch in her eyebrow earlier told him they must have dated. With all The Lust Villa he’d been watching he fancied himself as an amateur romance psychologist.
‘We’re very different people,’ said Gaby, not quite answering the question. Daniel didn’t say anything. He’d learned, again from The Lust Villa, that if you wanted somebody to tell you their secrets the trick was to stay silent so that