‘In what way?’
‘Money tends to fix most problems.’
‘But not all?’
A pause. A flash of bleakness in his eyes. ‘No,’ he said with a faint frown. ‘Not all.’
He was obviously thinking of the deal and the obstructive Mr Bridgeman, and Kate mentally high-fived the man she’d never met but who had to be the only person on the planet to defy him.
‘So what’s this evening about, then?’ she asked, abandoning the view of the heavy traffic of central London through which they were inching, and shifting to bestow on him her iciest glare.
‘It’s a fundraiser.’
‘What for?’
‘A charity that helps young entrepreneurs who haven’t had the easiest start in life.’
‘Like you?’
‘How would that be like me?’
The look that accompanied his response was dark and forbidding, and she would have wondered what had caused the sudden tension radiating off him had she been remotely interested in digging deeper. ‘Well, you started in business at a young age, didn’t you? No handy trust fund or Oxbridge education.’
The tension eased. ‘Yes.’
‘A worthy cause.’
‘Very.’
‘Who’s going to be there?’
‘Business acquaintances mainly.’
But no friends. How unsurprising. ‘The CEO you’re trying to sweeten?’
‘No. He’s away.’
Oh. ‘Doesn’t that rather defeat the object of the exercise?’
‘Not at all. Tonight is about building a narrative and spreading your news.’
Her news, she noted. Not their news. Right now she was useful to him, the means to an end, but once it was done she’d be on her own and she must never forget it. ‘Why are you so keen to impress him?’
‘I want his business.’
‘I know, but why doesn’t he want to sell it to you?’
‘He has concerns.’
‘About what?’
‘My personality,’ he said with a faint grimace that she found enormously satisfying. ‘My integrity.’
Really? Hah. There were clearly no flies on this Mr Bridgeman. ‘He knows you well.’
‘We’ve never met.’
‘Then he disapproves of your reputation.’