Page 55 of Good Sisters

Clasping my hands together, I said, ‘I really need all hands on deck this week. As you may remember, Zoë, we’re in the middle of closing the largest MBS deal this company has ever handled.’

Zoë’s eyebrows rose. ‘What’s an MBS again?’

Was she joking? How the hell could she not know what an MBS was? I wasn’t sure I could take much more of Zoë. The joke of it was that this irritating, spoiled girl wasn’t even studying law. She had dropped out of her Social Science course and was ‘thinking about law’. Our managing partner, Walter, had dumped her on me, probably because I was the only female partner in the firm and was supposed to be some kind of ‘role model’ for this completely disinterested snowflake. I usually hired all of my own interns and they werefantastic, hard-working, bright, keen-to-learn young people. Zoë was an anomaly and a big fat pain in my arse.

‘An MBS, Zoë, is a mortgage-backed security, a phrase that should be as familiar to you by this stage as your own name.’

Mike leaned in and whispered, ‘You know, it’s when you get a load of mortgages and sell them on from the bank, who lent the people the money, to another financial institution and they combine all the mortgages and loans into one unit that the public can invest in.’

‘Right, okay, gotcha,’ Zoë drawled.

‘So, as I was saying before Zoë interrupted us, this is a big week for our department and I need everyone to be punctual and to be aware that there will probably be some late nights. Thursday could be an all-nighter.’

Zoë looked up. ‘Late nights? That could be a problem for me, I have plans pretty much every night. And Thursday is a definite no.’

I stared at her. Her cavalier attitude to work drove me to distraction. I had worked so bloody hard to get where I was – no one had pulled any favours to give me a leg-up – and this piece of work had swanned into a fantastic internship opportunity and announced that she’s not even sure if she’s interested in a career in law.

Swallowing my rage, I said, ‘I recommend you cancel your plans ASAP. This is your chance to show commitment to the department and to the firm, Zoë, and I suggest you take it. We are a team, and we all pull together when things get busy, is that understood?’

Zoë stifled a yawn. ‘Did you not know it’s Walter’s sixtieth birthday on Thursday? I thought you guys were close. Anyway, I’ve invited a small group to a surprise dinner for him in Xavier de la Tour’s new restaurant. Bernard is goingtoo. I’ll be leaving at five to get ready. Pre-dinner drinks are at six. In fact, I’ll probably have to leave at four – I’ll need to fit in a blow-dry.’

I gripped the side of my chair and willed myself not to slap her face. The little bitch had invited the other senior partner, Bernard, and not me? I felt humiliated and sidelined.

Using all the willpower I had, I kept my face as impassive as possible. ‘Okay, then. I’ll need you in at six a.m. on Thursday. Walter knows how important this deal is, and I’m sure if you end up having to work overtime, he’ll understand.’

‘I don’t think so. As his only godchild and surrogate daughter, I’m giving a pre-dinner speech, so being late is not an option. As I said, it’s a surprise for Walter, so I’d appreciate it if you kept quiet about it.’

In a strangled voice I managed to say, ‘Fine. Then you can come in at six a.m. on Wednesday too.’

‘I won’t be much use to you if I’ve had no sleep. I’m not really a morning person.’

‘Well, maybe we can change that.’ I gave her my frostiest smile and carried on with the meeting.

Sophie had booked a local Italian restaurant for a ‘last supper’ with Gavin before the baby arrived and he disappeared into parenthood. Gavin had told me he was really struggling with the fact that Mum wouldn’t meet his baby. I’d told Julie and Sophie, and Julie had immediately started crying. Sophie had decided we had to do something and make a fuss of him. So here we all were on the dot of seven p.m. – well, everyone except Julie, who was always late. She’d give Zoë a run for her money. It was only Tuesday but I had loads of work to do when I got home, so I was hoping for a quick dinner. Besides, Shania had generously offered to babysit Clara and I wanted her to get home to bed early.

Dad looked well. He’d put on a nice shirt and seemed less exhausted than last time I’d seen him, which, I realized with a sharp stab of guilt, had been about ten days ago. Work had completely taken over my life these past few weeks.

Gavin was wearing a brandedTantastic by Shaniahoodie.

‘Nice of you to dress up,’ I said to him.

‘It’s called marketing, Louise.’

‘It’s called a hoodie, Gavin.’ I grinned at him.

‘It’s a great name for a brand,’ Sophie said.

‘I came up with it,’ Gavin said proudly. ‘And I designed the logo and the fashion merchandise.’

‘Hoodies, beanies and T-shirts don’t exactly make you the Miuccia Prada of fashion.’ Sophie laughed.

‘They’re selling like hot cakes,’ Gavin told her.

Sophie punched him playfully on the arm. ‘They’re great and I’m just slagging you. I gave beanies to all our models and told them to post about them.’

‘Cool, thanks.’

‘I think a shirt when you’re going out for dinner is more appropriate,’ Dad noted. Gavin’s relaxed attitude to life had always been a bugbear to him. He couldn’t understand how his son didn’t have a ‘proper’ nine-to-five job with a pension. He’d always worried about Gavin’s future.

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