To Molly’s annoyance, Adam meant what he said. If he had initially appeared interested in the curve of her breast underneath her thin shirt, now he wanted a swift summary of the menus, schedules and whether he could get into the royal box to watch the grand prix. Molly leant even further forward in her chair so her elbows rested on Adam’s desk, hoping he could get a glimpse of her deep cleavage. She glanced up and saw the scene reflected in the darkened window behind them, his back strong and muscular underneath his white gleaming shirt, her cheekbones accentuated by the lamplight. Oh, we look so good together, she thought, a smile playing on her lips. We fit.
‘You’re in a hurry. We can do this tomorrow,’ she said, hoping she could goad him into offering another drink.
Adam leant back and pulled his jacket off the back of the chair. ‘You know what? Let’s do that,’ he said, as Molly’s smile instantly disappeared.
‘I said I’d go round to Karin’s, and I’m sure you’re seeing Marcus. He has the most dull dinner guests at the Savoy tonight, so he’ll be glad of your company.’
Molly stood up quickly, irritated but not beaten. Men usually fell like dominos when she was looking this hot, but if Adam Gold was going to play hard to get, then fine. She would bide her time. There would be other moments like this, of that she was sure. But still, she didn’t want to waste the moment.
‘It’s probably out of place for me to stay this,’ she said carefully as he slipped his diary and laptop into his briefcase. ‘But I’m glad you’ve come along for Karin after everything that’s happened.’
Adam smiled. It was a mischievous ‘I’m-not-sure-I-believe-you’-smile, but a smile all the same.
Molly pressed her point. ‘You obviously know about the death of her husband Sebastian last year,’ said Molly gravely.
‘Of course,’ he nodded.
‘It was such a difficult year,’ said Molly, shaking a tumble of hair from her shoulders. ‘I mean the loss of a partner is bad enough, but then having to cope with that whispering campaign? Well, that’s got to be tough for even the most strong-minded of people.’
Adam’s eyes narrowed and she knew she had got his attention. ‘Whispering campaign?’
Molly pretended to look flustered. ‘Oh, I … I’m sorry,’ she stuttered. ‘As
I say, it’s none of my business. I’m sure Karin will tell you in her own time.’
‘Molly, tell me,’ said Adam, looking cynical. ‘What whispering campaign?’
Molly paused. ‘About how Seb fell off the yacht.’
Adam raised an eyebrow. ‘But he was drunk. The man sounded like an alcoholic.’
‘Yes, but people said the most wicked things,’ said Molly softly.
‘Just tell me, Molly,’ snapped Adam.
‘People were saying that she pushed him off.’
Adam laughed, although it sounded hollow in the empty office.
‘That’s just fucking ridiculous,’ he said with a half-smile. ‘I think someone, somewhere has an overactive imagination.’
Molly’s expression remained earnest as she continued. ‘You’re right, there was clearly nothing in it. I did hear that a Vanity Fair journalist was sniffing around the story for one of those society crime stories they like doing, but I don’t remember seeing it run, so there obviously wasn’t anything to find.’
‘No, no, of course not,’ said Adam. Molly’s eyes searched Adam’s face, which suddenly looked a little more anxious.
‘Poor Karin,’ said Molly quickly. ‘But, as I say, it’s good she’s found you. She deserves a break after all that.’
Adam smiled, but his thoughts were clearly elsewhere as he gathered his things and showed Molly out of the office.
‘Have a lovely time tonight!’ said Molly cheerfully as she turned and stalked off down the corridor, swinging her hips as if she was on a catwalk. If Adam could have seen her front, he would have seen a wide smile break out across her face.
Erin could hardly believe how easy property developing was, particularly when you were creative with the truth. After leaving Jeremy Sergeant in the Rachman offices, Erin immediately made an appointment at the bank. The Midas Corporation banked with one of the large multinationals, and Barty Clark, the firm’s client manager, ran through the spectrum of options for buy-to-let mortgages.
Erin needed a £400,000 mortgage to cover buying the property and the renovation costs. The problem was, despite her small inheritance, she didn’t quite have the twenty per cent deposit required by the bank.
‘I know you work very closely with Mr Gold,’ said Barty, peering over his glasses at Erin. ‘Will he be making any input in your project?’ he enquired.
‘Adam is my mentor and is very supportive with me,’ she said, trying not to grimace.