Page 71 of Pride and Privilege

“You don’t have to grow up in a house full of lawyers to know that’s grade-A bullshit.”

Roscoe let out a breath, opened his eyes. He toyed with the zip of his leather laptop bag where it lay on the fold-down table in front of him. “I like her. A lot.”

“You’re her boss.”

“I don’t have to be.” He flashed Aubrey a glance, got an eyeful of disapproval. “You don’t understand. She’sbrilliant. She’s spent the last two years teaching herself the basics of what we do. And she gets it. She really does. She has the intuition, can see the bigger picture, and she’s smart enough to learn whatever she doesn’t already know. She might not have the qualifications or the hands-on experience, but she could give any of our juniors a run for their money.”

“Your EA?” asked Aubrey sceptically.

“If I talk to John Fisher, start her off in Research—”

“Give your girlfriend a job?”

“Move my EA into a role that develops her talent.”

“Are you forgetting the Emily Malcolm promotion rumour? Are you forgetting the whole conversation we had? That girl who thought you could get her a job if she slept with you— Oh. Wait.” Something on Roscoe’s face must have given it away. “Poppy Fieldsisthat girl. She’s the one who offered to sleep with you in exchange for a job.”

“That’s not what this is. It’s completely different.”

“Right. Because now sheissleeping with you, and you’re going to give her a job so it’s less morally objectionable for you to continue sleeping with her? Yeah. Totally different.”

Fucking lawyers. Roscoe slumped back in his seat. “I’m not sleeping with her. And it is different.”

“Not different enough,” said Aubrey. “And not different at all to any outsider looking on. There are already rumours about you two. Do you know that? You left the Hop and Hare with her. Now you work with her. Late nights at the office, et cetera, et cetera. Even if you can somehow wrangle her into this job while keeping your name out of the process, do you think people aren’t going to be able to guess what’s going on? You know as well as I do that there are plenty of bitchy little shits at the office who will make life very unpleasant for her.”

“So I can’t help her? So her career’s fucked because of me?”

“You never should have gone there, Ross.”

Roscoe breathed an angry laugh, frustration and guilt stoking his temper. “You’re one to talk, Aubrey. Is it three times you’ve tried to hit on her?”

He shrugged one shoulder. “I’d hardly call it hitting on her. One time, in the lift, I’ll grant you. The other times were nothing but friendly conversation.”

“Friendly. Right.”

“She’s very attractive,” said Aubrey blithely, as though it explained everything. As though it didn’t make Roscoe want to throw him out of the plane’s emergency exit. “It’s not as though I don’t understand the temptation, the difference is that I’m not her boss, and I’m not you. We had this conversation already.”

“Right. I’m in a position of power and influence.” He waved a hand. “I can’t have anything with her, but you and everyone else can? That’s convenient. One rule for me, and a different one for everyone else, right?”

Aubrey ignored his angry posturing and calmly crossed his legs, one of the benefits of flying business class being that he had the space to do so. “Yes, Roscoe. One rule for you—in many, many areas of your life. And ninety-nine percent of the time, you are the benefactor.”

Roscoe scowled out of the window, thumb digging into the armrest.

“If youdolike her,” Aubrey continued inexorably, “you ought to be protecting her.”

“I am. I’m trying to.”

“You might need to try a little harder, Goldy, or you’ll bring every gossipmonger in BG down on her head.”

Roscoe took a deep breath and let it out slowly as he looked out of the window. White and grey, everything hazy, no idea what was land or sky.

“Now show me your notes on Hendrich Lissi.”

Roscoe glanced at him. Aubrey wasn’t down for this meeting—the one Roscoe was dreading, trying to pitch his feeble knowledge of European tax regulations to one of the industry’s best. It would be a disaster. He was going to embarrass BG. Embarrass his father.

Aubrey smiled at Roscoe’s look. “As you know, I didn’t finish my law degree. But what you probablydon’tknow, is that my specialisation was…international tax law. Fascinating, right? Hard to believe I walked away from it.”

Poppy let herself into the flat and had a long, hot shower, waiting for the bad feelings to hit. But other than the embarrassment of being spotted leaving Roscoe’s by Aubrey Ford, she couldn’t manage to summon up much shame or regret. It was hard to when there was a warm, excited sort of feeling in her chest. Andwhen her body kept remembering things that made it beg,more, please, again.

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