She threw him a welcoming smile. “Good afternoon, sir – how can I help?”
“Get me the manager, would you, please, miss?”
The young lady gazed deeply into his eyes and seemed to swoon inside, which Dylan thought was very sweet – even though she was far too young for him. He liked an experienced woman – not some little post-grad who knew nothing about life, or about bedroom politics.
“Anything I can help you with, sir?” she asked hopefully.
“I don’t think so. I’m looking for Sarah Newell. She in today?”
“Yes, Miss Newell’s in the office. Just one moment please.”
Without taking her eyes off Dylan, the girl picked up the phone and pressed a few buttons. They both listened patiently as the line rang inside the handset against her ear. Dylan drummed his fingers on the walnut desk. The receptionist continued to stare at him like a schoolgirl with a teenage crush. He willed Sarah to pick up the phone, but she was obviously a busy woman and it simply rang and rang.
“I’ll just wait over there,” he said. “Tell Miss Newell I’m here, okay?”
The young lady smiled coyly. “Sure, what’s your name?”
“Dylan Quinlan.”
“Okay, Mr Quinlan…”
Dylan flopped down onto a spare squashy couch and pulled out his phone to compose a message to Adam. On his way here, Dylan hadn’t been able to stop thinking about this morning’s meeting with Orlov, and he was beginning to wonder whether the sponsorship deal was such a great idea. The man was clearly on the edge of megalomaniacal insanity – he sent hitmen after his enemies, for Christ’s sake. Dylan prided himself on being a shrewd businessman who took no prisoners, but he’d never dream of threatening people – he didn’t need to – his talent and credentials spoke for themselves. But Orlov… it was well-known that he was involved with some very shady Russians. Surely there were other ways to boost publicity for Grafton Techs which didn’t involve doing deals with corrupt Russians. It was Orlov who’d approached Dylan with the offer initially, and it had seemed like a great opportunity. But maybe now it was time to get out quick.
He composed a message to Adam. ‘I’m not sure about the Orlov deal. He’s an asshole. Do we really wanna get mixed up with him?’
Dylan pressed send. He already knew what Adam’s response was going to be. ‘Of course we should do the deal. This publicity will add billions to the value of Grafton Techs. Stop being such a pussy…’
But it was alright for Adam – he was going back to New York soon. Dylan would be the one stuck here with a Russian nutjob.
Dylan’s phone bleeped and he saw that Adam had replied, but he didn’t get the chance to open it, because a pair of smart high heels appeared in his vision. He looked up and followed two long legs towards a sleek suit jacket – and at the top, he was treated to a warm smile. “Hello, Dylan Quinlan.”
He stood up to greet her with a peck on the cheek. “Hey, Sarah.”
She stepped backwards. “Dylan, please not in front of my staff. I hope you realise you’ve got my receptionist in a tizzy.”
He smirked. “I can’t be that special, sweetheart. You ran out on me. Again.”
Dylan could see she wanted to smile, but she hardened her expression. “Last night was wonderful. But I needed to come back to work. Back to reality. When are you leaving London?”
“You trying to get rid of me?”
“Yes I am. I told you last night, you’re trouble.”
“Don’t worry about the Russian, okay? I probably won’t do business with him.”
“It’s nothing to do with the Russian. It’s you.”
He gazed deeply into her eyes, wishing he could captivate her as much as her receptionist. “I love it when you play hard to get, Sarah. You remember when we first met at college. Jesus, I really had to work to –”
She threw her hand to her hip. “You sent me away back then, Dylan. You could’ve begged me to stay, but you didn’t. I’ve wracked my brains for years trying to think of why you didn’t want me there anymore – I assume it was because you fell in love with someone else and wanted me out the picture.”
Her words struck his heart painfully. “Sarah, there was never anyone else – it was hell for me too, okay. Your mom needed you and you needed to be with her. That was my only reason – you gotta believe me.”
Sarah glared down at the shiny floor and swallowed hard. Dylan noticed tears welling up in her eyes, so he instinctively reached out and held her hand. She didn’t pull away this time, but her muscles tensed, squeezing his fingers hard.
Not caring whether her staff saw, Dylan reached out and cupped her chin in his other hand. “Listen, babe, Amy’s throwing an engagement party tonight and she wants you to come… I want you to come. We can talk there, okay? If you’ve got things you need to ask me or say to me, you can. Huh? What do you say?”
Worry flashed across Sarah’s lovely face. “I don’t know, Dylan. What if the past should stay in the –”