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A yawn echoed down the phone. "What did you say this place is called?"
"The Hub, Camden Town."
"Actually...I think it might be the venue where The Candy Shock Tarts are performing."
"Candy Shock Tarts?" Abby's eyebrows lifted.
"They're a small theatre troupe from Denmark, they specialize in spoofing musicals. Apparently they named themselves after some candy that explodes in your mouth and melts on your tongue." Marcy moaned with mock pleasure.
"Okay, okay," Abby chuckled, "I get the picture."
"Why the sudden interest?" Marcy was waking up.
"I saw something that caught my eye." Or someone. Abby turned the business card in her fingers, watching the hologram wink at her.
"Shall I try to get tickets for the show? I think they're doing Cabaret this go round, it's on Saturday."
"If you can, I'll love you forever."
"Leave it to me."
When she put the phone down, Abby stood up and strolled down the corridor to Suzanne's desk. "Are you free on Saturday? I might be going over to that venue, you know, the one the courier recommended?"
Suzanne looked at her, impressed. "Go, Abby!"
"If we get tickets, can you come?"
"I'd love to, but I'm babysitting." She shot out a hand to grab Abby's. "I want to hear all about it though." She winked.
Abby rolled her eyes. "He might not even be there, but if he is I'll tell all."
* * * *
It was hard work with long hours, but by Friday Abby had a confident overview of the aspects of the Ashburn portfolio that were previously handled by Ed. She wanted to develop the property investments he'd been handling, and perhaps action something unique to mark her period in charge. If she wanted to make a significant difference to the account—and that was her personal and professional goal—time was limited, because the contract renewal date was looming on the calendar.
She also had to push up the short-term stock turnover, enlarging her previous responsibility. She and Penny had done useful research on upcoming opportunities in the franchise market. Abby was determined to keep that side ticking over, alongside developing Ed's work.
She'd been with the Robertson Corporation for three years. Her experience had been varied and responsible enough for her to consider going freelance. She'd made private investments that had been successful and she had the initiative to put her profits to good use. If the Ashburn portfolio did well, she would take it as the sign to go it alone.
The low pulse tone of the phone interrupted her thought trail. It was Ed, calling from Heathrow.
"I'm catching the eleven o' clock flight to Geneva to meet with Pascal. It's primarily to negotiate working parameters. I'll be back Sunday morning, early." He paused. "If you meet me at Heathrow...I'll buy you breakfast."
"OK, Ed. Bien sur, au revoir."
He was still trying. He'd been trying for nearly a year now. Something about him made her fidget. He was more than efficient in the sex department but when he got all cozy on her she felt the urge to run naked through the streets—in the opposite direction. Actually, she mused, she felt the urge to run through the streets naked more each day. Perhaps it was the heat. Restless, she tapped her fingers against the desk.
She stopped tapping her fingers when she noticed a mail from Marcy that made her light up.
Success! It was no easy task, but I got us front row tix for the Shock Tart show!
* * * *
"Delivering all the outrageous fun of a bawdy sex comedy, The Candy Shock Tarts manage to capture the pathos and ingenuity of the original, whilst bringing new life to this performance of Cabaret. An outstanding interpretation of one of the classic musicals of our time." Marcy read the quote aloud from the poster outside the venue, while they moved slowly past it in the queue. She had her camera slung over one shoulder, and looked relaxed yet sophisticated in a black mandarin suit, her dark hair sleeked in a topknot.
Abby nodded and looked at the glass entrance vestibule with interest. A doorman was taking tickets. She craned her neck, trying to get a closer look, but, alas, it wasn't Wolf-smile. The man took their tickets and directed them to the corridors end, where a hum of voices emerged from double doors.
Is he in there?
