Never Mind the Botox Page 4

They spent a long time saying goodbye at the airport and Ryan promised that he would come and visit her next; hopefully in a few weeks’ time if he could swing the time off. He stood and watched her go until she passed through the departure gate and was finally out of sight.

  As Meredith waited patiently in the queue for security, images of the weekend spun wildly around in her head. She couldn’t believe that she’d had such an amazing time so soon after her surgery. But it didn’t take long for the bustling efficiency of the airport to bring her back to reality with a bang, when her carry-on bag was pulled to one side for a security check.

  ‘Did you pack this bag yourself?’

  Meredith nodded wearily at the portly American security guard.

  ‘I need to have a look through it.’

  Meredith watched as he zipped open the case and started to examine its contents, carefully taking out one item at a time: jumper, book, wash bag – nothing of great excitement. He placed each item down on the counter and ran what looked like a mini lightsaber over them, presumably testing for traces of drugs. Under the first layer of her clothes was a small parcel, delicately wrapped in soft pink paper and tied with black ribbon. Meredith stared at it in surprise. What on the earth was that?

  The security guard picked it up. ‘What’s inside this?’

  ‘I have no idea. I’ve never seen it before,’ said Meredith without thinking.

  The security guard looked at her suspiciously and she suddenly realised how terrible that had sounded. Ryan must have slipped it into her bag as they were leaving.

  ‘I’m sorry, what I meant to say is that it’s a gift from, err, a friend of mine. It’s meant to be a surprise, I think. So I haven’t opened it.’

  ‘I’m afraid I need to see what’s inside. Would you open it, please?’

  Meredith put the parcel down on the counter and pulled open the ribbon. The tissue paper fell open to reveal a white lace bra and matching pair of G-string knickers, both decorated with tiny red bows. Ryan had put a note on the top that simply read Yes please.

  Meredith stared at the note in horror, her face reddening with embarrassment. The security guard looked up at her in surprise, a smile twitching at the sides of his mouth, and then did his best to look nonchalant as he carefully inspected the neatly folded underwear. Once he’d established that they weren’t hiding some dangerous weapon, he tried to close the tissue paper. But it kept flapping back open, determined to display its deeply private contents for as long as possible, so he just moved it to one side as he checked through the rest of the bag. Meredith could hardly bring herself to look at it.

  ‘That’s fine, thank you. Have a good trip,’ he said eventually, raising his eyebrows knowingly at her. Meredith stuffed her things back into her bag as quickly as she could and fled.

  When she got back to London, Daisy came rushing round for a full debrief.

  ‘Right, I want to hear everything. Start at the beginning and leave nothing out,’ she demanded.

  Meredith gave her a blow-by-blow account of her trip, including the mortifying underwear incident. Daisy sat listening, open-mouthed.

  ‘You little minx!’ she said when Meredith told her about the end of the first evening. Meredith just grinned and told her about the rest of her trip.

  ‘So is it serious, do you think?’ Daisy asked.

  ‘No, I don’t think so. Don’t get me wrong, he’s a lovely guy, but he’s miles away. Hardly the basis for a long-term relationship. And anyway, he showed me that I’m definitely ready to hit the party scene over here, now everything’s in fine working order.’

  Daisy shook her head, laughing. ‘What are you like!’

  Meredith smiled. ‘Not long until I start work now either. Can’t wait. Think I’m going to step things up a notch, make sure they know I mean business.’

  Ryan had given her confidence a big boost, and her new look, along with a new job, provided the perfect opportunity to reinvent herself a bit.

  ‘In what way?’ Daisy asked.

  ‘Oh, you know, just turn the dial up a bit. It’s such a competitive environment, I need to make sure that I’m just that bit more successful than the next guy. La poursuite incessante de l’excellence, as my old boss used to say,’ said Meredith.

  ‘Relentless pursuit of excellence,’ Daisy translated. ‘Like it. It can be your new mantra. In fact, maybe it should be our new mantra. I could do with some of that too.’

  It hadn’t always been in Meredith’s nature to be competitive. It was a skill she’d soon learnt when she started out in investment banking. She’d also learnt how to hide her emotions, behaving like a swan gliding across the surface of the lake while making sure no one could see how frantically her legs were paddling underneath. She’d been hugely successful in Paris, but if she was honest with herself, a large part of that was down to her father’s contact base rather than her originating contacts of her own. With his guidance and address book, she’d pulled in deal after deal and had soon gained a reputation as a serial rainmaker. That’s why the headhunters had been after her. Over here, though, she was on her own, and Clinton Wahlberg was expecting big things of her. Meredith was pretty sure that she could do it, but it was still a scary prospect. She would have to work hard to make sure that she lived up to the reputation that had preceded her.

  ‘It’ll be fun – I hope,’ said Meredith.

  ‘Sure it will,’ said Daisy. ‘I wish I could say the same about the gallery.’

  ‘Still no better?’

  ‘No,’ Daisy sighed. ‘I’m just not selling enough. My paintings are doing okay but the sculptures are hardly moving. And I make so little money on the other artists’ work I show that it’s hardly worth it. My discounted rent period finishes in three months, and unless things pick up, I won’t be able to pay the increase.’

  ‘You need to charge the other artists a bit more then,’ said Meredith. ‘Make sure you’re covering your costs.’

  ‘If I do that they might go somewhere else and I’ll end up with loads of blank space on the wall. Even I know that’s not a recipe for success.’

  ‘Do you want me to go through the books with you? See if we can work something out?’

  ‘No!’ said Daisy quickly. ‘I’m sure I can figure a way through.’

  Meredith could see that Daisy’s pride wouldn’t let her ask for help.

  ‘Okay, okay, just asking, that’s all,’ said Meredith. ‘Look, why don’t you come and help me choose what to wear on my first day? I need to create the right impression.’

  ‘Alright,’ said Daisy wearily. ‘I better had, otherwise you’ll just end up looking like a cheap tart.’

  ‘Daisy, there’s nothing cheap about my wardrobe!’

  ‘Okay, an expensively dressed tart then.’

  ‘I will not look like a tart at all,’ Meredith protested.

  ‘So why do you need me to check then, if you’re so sure?’

  Meredith hesitated. Sometimes her work look was a bit on the edgy side. Daisy was very good at helping her get the balance right.

  ‘Well, I just like having a second opinion, that’s all,’ said Meredith. ‘Come on, let’s get on with it.’

  Chapter 4

  Meredith walked into the reception of Clinton Wahlberg wearing the sharply tailored navy trouser suit that she and Daisy had picked out a week earlier, teamed with a white silk shirt and a soft, crimson leather briefcase kept shut by a tiny gold padlock. Having spent her final days of ‘freedom’ sleeping, shopping, going to the gym and generally pampering herself ready for the big day, she was feeling armed and ready. The click of her heels echoed loudly as she made her way across the cavernous reception area. In the centre of it was an enormous twisted bronze statue that looked a bit like a giant helter-skelter, stretching up over two floors high.

  She collected her pass and headed up to her new office, following the directions she’d been sent with her joining instructions. Her office proved to be the usual goldfish bowl with glass walls. The glass ha
d a wide opaque stripe that ran round the room at eye level, which was meant to provide an element of privacy but, Meredith knew, would just result in people peering above it or below it instead. A black swivel chair was tucked under a regulation grey desk and a grey-rimmed pin board ran the length of her desk. It was bare apart from the department’s telephone list and emergency procedures. Despite the prevalence of grey, the room was light and airy and not a bad size; it just needed a few personal things to brighten it up a bit.

  Nick Rees, her new boss, was waiting to greet her, sitting in a spare chair that sat facing her desk and looking at his phone. He stood up as she came in.

  ‘Meredith. How lovely to see you again and great to have you on board finally. How was your garden leave? You must have loved having three months off.’

  Nick, a slim, grey-haired man with square, dark-rimmed glasses, was the managing director of the healthcare deal team. He spoke in a soft voice but with a determination that showed he wasn’t someone to be messed with. He was a legend at Clinton Wahlberg, looking after several of their most prestigious clients. Nick had recruited Meredith to join his team, as healthcare was one of the strongest areas of her CV. Her father had done several commissions for wealthy philanthropists – the type who ended up with a hospital wing named after them − which had given her plenty of healthcare contacts to work with.

  Meredith smiled. She was pretty sure Nick wouldn’t notice her change in look since he’d interviewed her. The changes were quite subtle, and in her experience men just weren’t that observant. If she’d gone for the double-D implants that might have been a different matter, but her natural-looking C-cups were safely tucked inside her carefully chosen tailored jacket.

  ‘I had a great break, thanks. It just flew past. I did some travelling, caught up with old friends, you know, all that sort of thing. But now I’m here and raring to go!’

  ‘Great,’ said Nick. ‘Look, why don’t you settle yourself in, sort your computer out and meet your secretary, then I’ll introduce you to the rest of the team. We’re having our usual weekly meeting at ten.’

  ‘Sounds great,’ said Meredith.

  She couldn’t wait. The healthcare team would soon be the most successful industry team working for Clinton Wahlberg. She was sure of it.

  The team meeting kicked off promptly at ten a.m. Meredith looked around at the assembled faces as they hurriedly settled themselves down. Nick was clearly a stickler for time keeping.

  ‘Good morning, everyone. I am delighted to be able to finally introduce you all to Meredith Romaine, the new director in our team who started today.’ Nick turned to Meredith. ‘The team have heard plenty about you and we’ve all been very much looking forward to you joining us. Your deal-making reputation in France speaks for itself.’

  ‘Thank you. That’s very kind. I’m excited to be here,’ said Meredith, smiling at the room.

  ‘Now, I suggest we start with some introductions. Hal, why don’t you start?’ Nick nodded at a tubby man with a generous helping of chins sitting on Meredith’s left.

  The man ran his hand through his floppy hair and then half-saluted in Meredith’s direction. ‘Hi. Rupert Penhaligon, but everyone calls me Hal or Rupes. Have done since school days,’ said Rupert, grinning broadly. He spoke with a clipped English accent that shouted of a private education. ‘Welcome to Clinton Wahlberg and to our little healthcare team, great to have you on board.’

  Hal then turned to his left and looked enquiringly at the next team member. Sitting next to him was a younger, studious-looking guy with thin frameless glasses. Meredith thought he was probably in his mid-twenties.

  ‘Alfred King, vice president,’ said Alfred with a short nod.

  Meredith smiled inwardly. She had never understood why junior team members were given such ridiculous job titles. If it was meant to compensate for working eighty hours a week, she was pretty sure it didn’t work. Alfred looked exhausted. He clearly wasn’t going to offer any more detail about himself, so Nick stepped in.

  ‘Alfred will be working for you, Meredith. He’s brilliant on the analytics side and speaks several languages, so he can help you scan for European healthcare businesses that might be on the market.’

  ‘Great,’ said Meredith, trying not to show her disappointment. The last thing she needed was a number cruncher with no people skills. She smiled warmly at Alfred, who gave a half-shrug and looked pointedly to his left.

  Next to Alfred sat a tall, Scandinavian-looking man with short blond hair and a square jaw. Meredith quickly put him in the handsome but ruthless box. Unlike Alfred, Lars Hanssen was very happy to offer plenty of detail about himself, finishing with a showy statement about the latest deal he had just closed.

  ‘… So plenty of work around. Looking forward to seeing some interesting new leads from you,’ he said pointedly, making Meredith feel quite certain he meant the opposite. Lars sat back, crossed his arms and waited for Meredith’s response. A false smile flickered momentarily across his face.

  ‘Yes, I have a number of, err, ideas that I’ll be bringing forward soon,’ Meredith lied. She could hardly admit that most of her past deals were courtesy of her father’s address book.

  The rest of the team members went on to introduce themselves in turn. There were eleven of them in Nick’s team in total. She and Lars were the only directors, the rest of the team being made up of analysts, associates and the glamorously named vice presidents.

  Nick led a lively and very competitive discussion about trends in the sector and the sort of businesses that were likely to be in trouble, up for sale or looking to buy. The team members vied with each other to prove who knew the most or had the best ‘in’. Meredith found it hard to distinguish the real opportunities from the exaggerated bragging, but Nick’s quiet moderation of the discussion left her in no doubt that he could. He approved leads to be followed, dismissed others and set the team a staggering list of objectives for the next meeting. Alfred scribbled furiously throughout the meeting as he had the unlucky job of reminding everyone after the meeting which to-do’s they had picked up. Meredith was given a relatively short list of company names to research with Alfred’s help, so she had plenty of time to ‘work on her own leads’.

  ‘And don’t forget, team drinks on Thursday,’ said Nick, gathering up his papers. ‘Alfred, can you make sure Meredith has the details.’

  Alfred was still finishing his notes as the others left the room. Meredith hovered for a few moments and then sat down next to him.

  ‘That looks like quite a list,’ she said, looking at the neat rows of handwriting in Alfred’s notebook.

  ‘No worse than usual,’ said Alfred. He sat back from his book and turned to face her. ‘Can you make the drinks on Thursday?’

  Meredith pretended to check her diary, even though she knew there was nothing in it.

  ‘Yes, I can. Sounds great. Shall we go through our to-do list?’

  Meredith started running through the information she wanted on each company, but Alfred interrupted her mid-sentence.

  ‘Look, I’m pretty sure I know what you need,’ he said, tapping his fingers on the desk. ‘Why don’t I prepare one as an example, email it to you and you can check it over?’

  Meredith hesitated, wrestling for a moment with her control-freak tendencies. But maybe she should give him a chance to use his own initiative.

  ‘Yes, okay. Let’s see what you’re made of,’ she said, smiling, but her gentle humour seemed to pass him by.

  ‘Great. I’ll get it to you by tomorrow, close of play,’ he said, quickly closing his notebook and standing up.

  Sensing that Alfred wasn’t one for small talk, Meredith followed suit. ‘Until tomorrow then,’ she said and headed back to her desk.

  Alfred’s email arrived before lunch the next day. The very arrival of the email made Meredith laugh. The company protocol for email displayed surnames first. It read King, Alfred; Re: Company Analysis.

  ‘Well, hello, King Alfred. Thank you f
or your email, your majesty,’ said Meredith out loud. How funny, a vice president and a king, when Alfred couldn’t have been further from either.

  Attached to the email was a beautifully presented, very comprehensive analysis of one of the companies they were looking at. Meredith was impressed. She emailed ‘King Alfred’ back asking for the rest in the same format, having deleted her initially effusive praise, which she decided was too soft for the rainmaker image the team clearly had of her.

  Determined to make a good first impression on Nick, over the next few days Meredith arrived early and left late. Once she’d found her way around the office and set up her computer, she cantered through her compulsory online ‘acclimatisation course’ and was soon working away on the first company analysis Alfred had sent her.

  By Thursday, Alfred had sent her all the others. Each email simply said As discussed. Alfred. Maybe he would be chattier after a few drinks, Meredith thought. At six o’clock she made her way to the team drinks being held in a glass-fronted wine bar close to the office. She quickly checked her reflection in the glass, smoothed down the front of her dress and went inside. Small groups of darkly dressed men and women stood chatting noisily around high aluminium drinks tables that peppered the room like giant drawing pins. She soon spotted Lars, his blond head popping up like a beacon from the other side of the bar, and went over to join the gang.

  Rupert was first to notice her approaching.

  ‘Meredith! Welcome. What can I get you?’

  Meredith gestured at the bottle of white wine that was already open on the table.

  ‘That’ll be lovely, thanks.’

  Rupert looked around anxiously for a clean glass and hurried off to the bar when he couldn’t find one, returning moments later with the glass raised triumphantly in his hand. Meredith found his old-fashioned, slightly exaggerated display of manners rather endearing. As they drank, he bombarded Meredith with questions: what was her last job like, why had she moved, who were her best contacts in the business? The list seemed endless. His interest was flattering, but exhausting. Meredith was very relieved when the conversation finally moved on as Jackie, one of the analysts in the team, stomped over to join them, furious that her boyfriend had just cancelled on her.