Читать книгу I’ll Take New York - Miranda Dickinson - Страница 23

‘I’m sure you’ll agree, it’s a great property,’ the real estate agent nodded encouragingly at Jake. ‘Competitive rates, excellent square-footage, close proximity to the better business areas of the city and the scope for a wide catchment area for your practice.’

‘Great …’ Jake replied, but he wasn’t really listening. He was still smiling from the conversation he’d enjoyed last night. This pact idea had legs: and finding the right premises for his business was the perfect place to start.

‘But please, don’t take my word for it,’ the over-eager agent rushed, ‘let me show you around and I assure you the property will speak for itself.’

Jake followed the agent around the empty office space, barely noticing the freshly painted walls and brand new carpet at his feet. It was light and airy, in the right location and with more than enough scope for his practice to expand in time – but he had made all of these observations within minutes of arriving and now his brain could focus on other things. As the agent eulogised the benefits of the building, Jake’s thoughts returned again to last night.

Why didn’t I ask for her number?

He had seen her wave goodbye as a man he presumed was her brother hurried her out of the apartment, so at least he knew she hadn’t fled the moment she’d had the chance. But in the cold light of day, was her participation in their conversation little more than classic British politeness? She was alone at the party and so was he: she was also a little worse for wear from champagne and wine and he had drunk more bourbon than he’d intended. Was it simply a case of shared experience to get through an otherwise excruciatingly embarrassing event?

‘Dr Steinmann?’

Jake stared dumbly at the real estate agent. ‘What?’

‘I said, staff. Will you be having any?’

‘Yes. I’ll start recruiting as soon as I secure premises.’ The thought of finding an assistant even half as competent as the wonderful Pam Lomas he had left back in San Francisco filled Jake with dread. Pam had done everything for him bar actually counselling his clients. She knew what he would ask for almost before he thought to ask for it, ran the office like a well-oiled, military machine and was the kind of person you would happily entrust your life to in an emergency. There was nothing about his practice that Pam didn’t know. Would he ever find someone with her level of loyalty and commitment in a city where trading up to a better job was a constant goal?

‘Then you can do no better than choose McKevitt Buildings as your practice base,’ the agent beamed, proud of his closing argument.

Jake stared at the agent’s self-satisfied smile and wondered if he would ever feel as much pleasure in his New York practice as the weasel-like little man clearly did in his profession. ‘OK. Thank you, Mr …?’

‘Howell-Brown,’ the agent reminded him, thrusting another business card into his hand. ‘Eugene Howell-Brown. I’m sorry. Did I forget to mention it?’ The question was loaded with accusation and Jake momentarily regretted forgetting the agent’s name so easily.

He did his best to return to the matter at hand; thinking about last night coupled with his hangover wasn’t helping him this morning. ‘Forgive me; it’s been a busy morning. I like the office, so I’ll take it.’

Eugene Howell-Brown forgot his passive-aggressive consternation and instantly sprang into action. ‘Wonderful! You will not regret this decision, Dr Steinmann. Now all I need from you are a couple of signatures and I’ll arrange for you to have the keys …’

Out on the too-bright sidewalk outside, Jake paused to take a breath. He needed to focus, to work his way through the list of tasks he had assigned himself today. There were recruiters to meet, office furniture and décor to choose and a million and one other jobs to attend to. But right now, they could wait. Before any of it could happen, Jake needed coffee.

In the sanctuary of a warmly lit coffee house nearby, he ordered an enormous black coffee. As he found a table hidden from the hubbub of other customers, his phone rang.

‘You haven’t called me. And you said you would.’

Jake smiled as the soothing voice of his former PA warmed his ear. ‘What can I tell you, Pam? I’m a disgrace.’

‘I was worried about you. You knew I would be. So? How’s life in the City That Sneers At You?’

‘And New York sends its love right back at you.’

‘Be serious.’

‘It’s good. A little weird to be back, but I haven’t been ridden out of town yet.’ Jake took a long sip of coffee and closed his eyes. ‘Actually, I just signed the lease on a new office building.’

‘Where?’

‘Just off Broadway. Near the Lincoln Center. It’s a good space: I think you’d approve.’

Pam’s snort made Jake grin. It was no secret what she thought of the East Coast in general and Manhattan specifically. In her college days she had interned at a law firm in New York for two months while staying with her aunt and the experience had apparently traumatised her for life. She had often said that the only native New Yorker she had ever liked was Jake. Coming from a woman as set in her opinions as Pam, this was the ultimate compliment.

Jake decided to move to safer territory. ‘How’s the new job? Is your new employer as devastatingly handsome as I am?’

Now it was Pam’s turn to laugh. ‘He’s tidier. And pays me more. But no, he isn’t a patch on you. You’re very hard to replace, Dr Steinmann.’

‘Oh, if only that were true.’ He didn’t mean to say it out loud; but of all the people who could have heard it, Pam understood more than most.

‘Tell me she hasn’t—’

‘Afraid so. I’ve had the papers for a week.’

‘And you’re going to sign them?’

‘I don’t know. I haven’t signed them yet. I will, I guess, just not yet.’

‘That woman doesn’t deserve you,’ Pam retorted. ‘I’m sorry, Jake, but you don’t pay my salary any more so I can say it. You’re better off without her. Sign the papers and get on with your life.’

Her forthrightness took Jake aback – in all the time they had worked together Pam had been very guarded in her comments on his private life, even though he often guessed what her opinions were. ‘You think?’

‘I do. In fact, I think it’s the only way. You talk to your clients about closure all the time: I’ve heard you. You can’t make her change her mind. But you can change your response to it.’

Jake laughed despite the sinking feeling Pam’s words caused. ‘Pam Lomas, are you psychoanalysing me?’

‘Maybe I am, Doctor. Maybe you need to hear it. Look, I can’t tell you what to do. I just care about you and I know you’re not happy. Ultimately it’s up to you how you move on. But you need to move on …’

When the call ended, Jake stared into the dark depths of his filter coffee. He hadn’t expected to hear it from his former employee, but Pam was right: he needed to take control of the situation. If only he’d reached this conclusion last night, when the possibility to take a new step had presented itself …