The Baby Verdict

‘I beg your pardon?’

‘Have you eaten? Had dinner? Consumed food within the last three hours?’

‘I know what you mean,’ Jessica snapped, ‘I just have no idea why you’re asking.’

‘It’s late. I think we might just as well go out for a quick bite. We can go through all this tomorrow when we’re feeling more alert.’

‘You’re kidding, aren’t you?’ But he didn’t seem to be. She watched, bewildered, as he strolled across to the two-seater sofa by the bookshelf, picked up his jacket and slung it on, followed by a camel-coloured trenchcoat.

‘There’s a good Italian just around the corner. I can always get a table there.’ He stopped to look at her. ‘Coming?’

‘This is ridiculous,’ Jessica spluttered, getting to her feet and feeling utterly manipulated as she shoved all the paperwork back into her briefcase. ‘With all due respect, this has been a pointless exercise for me.’

‘Oh, I don’t know,’ he mused, eyebrows raised, ‘a meal out is surely more fun than looking up a few legal references...’

‘I would say that depends entirely on the company involved,’ she muttered stiffly.

‘If it’s any consolation, we’ll talk business for the duration of the meal. How about that?’ His phoney, soothing tone of voice got on her nerves even more, and she took a few deep breaths and controlled her temper.

‘I’m not dressed for a meal out,’ she pointed out, because a wayward thought had suddenly crossed her mind: she didn’t want to be alone with Bruno Carr unless there was the reassuring presence of files, desks and computers around.

‘Oh, I don’t know.’ He gave her a leisurely look. ‘I’m sure Gino has witnessed the sight of a working woman in a suit before. This is the twentieth century, after all, as you were so adamant about pointing out the last time we met.’

He opened the door, stood aside, and she brushed past him with a lofty expression. Diplomacy is the better part of valour, she told herself on the way down in the lift. She was doing this because he was her boss and refusing point-blank was hardly a tactful manoeuvre. If any other man had treated her with such high-handed arrogance, she would have dismissed him on the spot.

That was a comforting thought.

They walked quickly and in silence to the restaurant. In this part of London, there were fewer people about. There were no trendy boutiques to attract the shoppers and not enough fashionable clubs to entice the young and the beautiful.

It was also too cold for dawdling. Within ten minutes they were at the restaurant, which was surprisingly full with an after-work crowd, but the proprietor immediately recognised Bruno and showed them to a table in the furthest corner of the place.

It occurred to Jessica that his girlfriend, or lover, or whoever the small, well-endowed blonde was, would not be impressed to find that his important business meeting had translated itself into a meal at the local Italian.

A suspicious thought began playing at the back of her mind, but she lost it as they were handed menus and the dishes of the day were explained with elaborate, Mediterranean flamboyance.

She had meals out with girlfriends on a fairly regular basis, but it had been a while since she had had a meal out with a man, and against all better judgement she found herself sneaking glances at Bruno as he contemplated the menu in front of him and ordered a bottle of white wine.

It was a unique experience to walk into a room and know that female heads were surreptitiously turning in their direction as they watched and assessed from under lowered lashes. She did not have the immediately captivating face of someone who aroused curious second looks. She was not unattractive, but she knew, deep down, that the few attractions she did possess were played down. Her mind and intelligence were what she wanted on display, rather than her physical attributes. It felt peculiar to be speculated upon by perfect strangers, even if it was simply because she was in the company of Bruno Carr.

He looked up suddenly from the menu and she dropped her eyes, ruffled to think that he might have caught her stare and followed the train of her thoughts from it.

‘So,’ he said lazily, ‘shall we launch immediately into a work-related discussion or would you like to have a glass of wine first?’

Why did she get the impression that, although he recognised her intelligence, he was secretly laughing at her?

‘I do have it in me to converse about things other than work,’ she told him coldly, unsettled by his attitude. She felt as though he was toying with her, in much the same way that a cat toyed with a mouse. ‘I just thought that that was my reason for flying over to see you at this time of the night.’

He ignored that part of her little speech. ‘Other things than work...well, I guess that means...play?’ He had ordered a bottle of white wine, and he looked at her as he tasted a thumbful, nodded, and then waited while two glasses were poured. ‘So, aside from law books and court cases, what other forms of play do you indulge in?’

He tilted his head slightly to one side, sipped his wine and contemplated her with a gravity which she knew was fake. He was highly amused by her and she found it exasperating.

‘I’m sure you know,’ she informed him calmly, taking a mouthful of wine and savouring the taste on her tongue, ‘considering you had my CV in front of you in my office and it was all listed there. But, in case you forgot, I enjoy going to the theatre, reading and foreign travel. What about you?’ She looked at him without blinking and decided that two could play that game. ‘Oops, sorry. I saw firsthand in your office what sort of play you enjoy indulging in.’

Had she said that?

Had she gone completely mad?

He grinned at her wickedly. ‘I do enjoy going to the theatre, reading, and foreign travel as well. But I’ll admit there are other, more absorbing types of play I prefer.’

‘Right.’ She could feel colour stealing into her cheeks, and she hurriedly drank some more wine. ‘Now, shall we discuss this case? At least go over a few things? I’m sure you have a hectic schedule tomorrow and the less—’

‘Dear me. Surely you can do better than that.’ He shot her a surprised look. ‘Just when I thought that we were going to have a little chat about these...things other than work you enjoy talking about.’

‘Okay. Then let’s talk about why you ordered me over to see you only to drag me out here the minute I step foot through the door.’

‘Drag you out here? You have a way with words, don’t you?’

‘I’m sorry,’ Jessica said stiffly, ‘I didn’t mean to appear rude.’

‘Oh, feel free to speak your mind. I appreciate honesty in a person.’

‘In that case, I might as well tell you that I’m a great believer in discussion. I don’t like being commanded to do things. I realise that you’re my boss...’

‘And have the authority to tell you precisely what I want you to do...?’ His voice was soft and when he drank his wine he continued to look at her over the rim of his glass.

‘Theoretically.’ The conversation seemed to be getting out of hand and she wondered when they had veered away from the conventional boss-employee line of chit-chat. ‘You did say that you wanted me to be honest,’ she said a little defensively, in anticipation of criticism.

‘Oh, I know. And there’s no need to look so alarmed. I’m not about to invoke the wrath of Khan on you for your temerity. After all, we will be working together to some extent. We might as well make sure that we can co-operate. I’m a great believer in the open forum.’

‘Except for tonight.’

‘Except for tonight,’ he agreed, half smiling.

‘Because...?’ She looked at him, and tried to let that suggestion of great charm wash over her. ‘Because...’ Bruno Carr did things for a reason. ‘You wanted me at your office...at that precise moment...because...’ It suddenly clicked. ‘Because you wanted to get rid of your girlfriend and my appearance was the most convenient way of doing that... am I right?’

‘You have a suspicious mind,’ he answered, leaning back slightly as plates of food were put in front of them, and vegetables were distributed with flourish. ‘It must be the lawyer in you.’

‘I don’t like being used, Mr Carr.’

‘Why don’t you call me Bruno? I encourage first names among my employees. Good for company morale. Makes people feel more comfortable.’

‘But that’s an illusion, isn’t it?’ Jessica said in a steely voice. ‘As tonight proved. You wanted me over because it was an expedient way of getting your girlfriend to leave.’

She could see that he was getting uncomfortable with her persistence but the thought of such blatant manipulation of her stuck in her throat.

‘Oh, for God’s sake, you’re like a dog with a bone. If it makes you feel any better to hear me admit it, then, yes, you’re right. You telephoned, and the idea occurred to me that an unavoidable business meeting was just what I needed’

Jessica finished her glass of wine and it was immediately refilled.