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“Of course. Have you ever had an accident?”
“No…”
“Well, then, you should take her for a spin. She’s a nice drive.”
“I’m sure she is.”
“So you’ll take her?”
“No! Oh my God. I’d be terrified.”
“You’ll take her,” I insist. “You won’t want to get out. She’s smooth as.”
She meets my eyes, her lips curving up. “You were very impressive today.”
“Oh? In what way?”
“All the facts and figures you quote. You know your stuff.”
“Not really. I make it up as I go along.”
She nudges me playfully. “No you don’t. You’ve surprised me.”
“Why?”
Her lips twist, but she doesn’t answer.
“Come on,” I say, “what do you mean?”
“I don’t think I should say it to my boss.”
“Say what?”
“It’s a bit sexist,” she says. “You couldn’t say it the other way around.”
“Are you going to comment on my nice arse?”
That makes her laugh. “No. Look, you’re a good-looking guy. But you’ve obviously got a brain on you, too. That’s all.”
“You mean you thought I was all icing and no cake?”
“A bit. But you even seem to have jam in the middle.”
“Are you calling me a Victoria sponge?”
“More like a fruitcake.”
We both laugh.
“Thank you,” I say as graciously as I can. “I choose to take that as a compliment.”
“You should.” She smiles, then walks past me through the door. “See you tomorrow.”
“Have a good evening.”
She heads off to her car. It’s a battered old Honda, looking a tad incongruous next to Alex’s Audi, my Porsche, Henry’s Range Rover, and Tyson’s BMW.
I close the door and lock it, and walk back to the boardroom thoughtfully.
