AllFreeNovel
Share Us
‘Oh, hi. It’s Andrew Walker here—your cousin Johnny…’
Andrew Walker. The miracle who might be going to save Prêt a Party and what was left of her trust fund.
‘Oh, yes—of course!’
‘Look, I know it’s short notice, but I’m going to be out of the country from tomorrow, so I wondered if there was any chance that you might be free for lunch today so that we could talk things over and set the ball rolling, so to speak.’
Lucy looked at her watch. It was gone twelve now.
‘I could make a late lunch at half one?’ she suggested.
‘Great. Is the Brasserie in Pont Street okay for you?’
‘Perfect,’ Lucy confirmed. Pont Street was virtually round the corner from her office, and the Brasserie was one of her favourite eateries.
‘Excellent. I’ll see you there at one-thirty, then.’
Replacing the receiver, Lucy looked down at her jeans. She would have to change them for something more suitable for a business lunch. The Armani suit, probably—referred to by her friends as ‘the armour’, because Lucy invariably wore it whenever she had a business meeting to attend. And always when she went to see Marcus to ask him to release more money from her trust fund.
CHAPTER FOUR
AT DEAD on one-thirty, fortified by two more cups of espresso and armoured with the Armani, Lucy fought her way past the untidy jumble of camera-toting, motorbike-riding paparazzi clustered boldly outside the Brasserie, waiting for its celeb diners to arrive and leave, and pushed open the door. She was immediately greeted with a welcoming smile from the receptionist, who recognised her.
‘I’m having lunch with a Mr Walker—Andrew Walker?’
‘Mr Walker is already here and waiting at the table,’ the maître d’ informed her.
‘Oh, Angelo, you’re back! How lovely. Did you have a wonderful time in Sydney with your son and grandchildren?’ Lucy asked warmly.
‘That boy—he is doing so well. He has his own restaurant now,’ Angelo informed her proudly as he escorted her past the other tables to one set discreetly out of earshot of the others.
The man seated there stood up as she approached, extending his hand. ‘Andrew Walker,’ he introduced himself, and Lucy shook it and sat down.
‘Hello Andrew—Lucy Cardrew.’
He was a middle-aged man of middle height with an unremarkable face. He was smartly if somewhat formally dressed, in a suit that—like those Marcus wore—had obviously come from a bespoke tailor. The shirt had all the hallmarks of its Jermyn Street origins, and his shoes were handmade too, but whereas Marcus always looked completely at home and at ease in the formality of his dark business suits and handmade shirts, Andrew Walker looked rather uncomfortable in his clothes, and they in turn looked new and somewhat alien to him.
As he signalled to the waiter he told Lucy, ‘Your cousin will have already mentioned to you that I may be interested in investing in your business?’
‘Yes,’ Lucy acknowledged, thanking the waiter for the menu he was handing her and shaking her head when Andrew asked her what wine she would like.
‘Just water for me,’ she told the waiter firmly.
Andrew didn’t resume talking about his plans until after they had been served with their food, and even then he kept his voice low and conspiratorial as he leaned across the table to tell her firmly, ‘I must stress that at this stage it is imperative that you don’t discuss my approach to you with anyone else.’
‘But my solicitor will have to know, surely?’ Lucy protested.
‘Ultimately, perhaps. Although I would prefer it if my own solicitor drew up all the necessary agreements first.’ He gave a small shrug. ‘I have discovered that the success of my existing business has resulted in other people becoming very keen to find out what my future financial moves will be. Any market can only sustain a certain amount of business. How much business do you have in hand at the moment?’
‘Very little,’ Lucy told him honestly. ‘I expect you know about the financial problems the business has had to face following my divorce?’
‘Of course.’
‘I’ve got a big event coming up next month—the launch of a new football boot—’
‘And that kind of business is profitable?’
‘Corporate business is hugely profitable compared with private business,’ Lucy explained. ‘When I’m asked to organise an event where the client wants access to my address book, in order to ensure that they have enough A-list celebs at the event to assure them of maximum press coverage, I can charge more than when I am organising a private event, where the guest list is supplied by the person giving the event. Obviously any kind of launch is an event when the attendance of the right kind of high-profile celebrities is a must. For this event, for instance, the client is guaranteeing the attendance of the premier league football star who is the face of their brand, and I have sent invitations to everyone in my address book who is guaranteed to bring the press to the event.’
‘“Everyone” being…?’
Lucy gave a small shrug. ‘Certain top-rank models and soap stars—the top names, not the B-and C-list—a smattering of It Girl-types and rock star offspring, plus some of the more sociable dot-com millionaires. People who are glamorous and newsworthy, and who will add lustre to the event.’
‘I see…So I take it that much of Prêt a Party’s market value lies in its address book?’
‘In some ways,’ Lucy agreed.
‘When it comes to organising food and drink, venues, flowers, that kind of thing, who is responsible for choosing who will supply those?’
‘Prêt a Party,’ Lucy told him promptly. ‘I’m very strict about who I do and don’t use. Prêt a Party’s reputation has been built on the quality of everything we provide—and that includes the ancillary services we use, whether they are marquees or food.’
‘Mmm. Have you ever thought about selling the Prêt a Party concept as a franchise?’
‘No.’
‘Well, that is one of the areas I am very interested in us looking into as business partners. It will be expensive to start with, of course, until the franchisee revenue starts to come in. But what I have in mind is to use the contacts I have already made via my turnkey business to build up our own ancillary service agencies—so that we can supply our franchisees with everything they need and the Prêt a Party guarantee of quality. We buy our own marquees and we provide the men to erect them. We supply the waiters, the glasses and the drinks. We provide the florists and the musicians and the cleaning staff—in fact, we supply everything and anything else our franchisees and their clients may need.’
Lucy stared at him, her food forgotten. ‘That’s brilliant,’ she told him, her eyes shining. ‘But it will cost a fortune…’
‘Indeed it will. But I think the eventual return will make it a worthwhile investment.’
Lucy didn’t know what to say. The most she had been hoping for had been an injection of capital to refloat the business so that she could build it up again, but what Andrew Walker was talking about so matter-of-factly was the creation of a whole business empire.
‘As I’ve already said, I would like your assurance that what we are discussing is kept strictly between the two of us at this stage.’
Lucy nodded her head.
‘I’d like to get things moving as quickly as possible, but obviously you’re going to need time to think over my proposal. How would you feel about us meeting up again when I get back from this trip?’
