“Good morning

“Good morning, Rebecca,” comes a voice from the door. Slowly I look up—and as I do so, my heart sinks. Luke Brandon is standing in the doorway. He’s wearing an immaculate dark suit, his hair is shining, and his face is bronze with makeup. There isn’t an ounce of friendliness in his face. His jaw is tight; his eyes are hard and businesslike. As they meet mine, they don’t even flicker.
For a few moments we gaze at each other without speaking. I can hear my pulse beating loudly in my ears; my face feels hotbeneath all the makeup. Then, summoning all my inner resources, I force myself to say calmly, “Hello, Luke.”
There’s an interested silence as he walks into the room. Even Elisabeth Plover seems intrigued by him.
“I know that face,” she says, leaning forward. “I know it. You’re an actor, aren’t you? Shakespearean, of course,mont blanc pens. I believe I saw you inLear three years ago.”
“I don’t think so,” says Luke curtly.
“You’re right!” says Elisabeth,nike shox torch 2, slapping the table. “It wasHamlet. I remember it well. The desperate pain, the guilt, the final tragedy . . .” She shakes her head solemnly. “I’ll never forget that voice of yours. Every word was like a stab wound.”
“I’m sorry to hear it,” says Luke, and looks at me. “Rebecca—”
“Luke, here are the final figures,” interrupts Alicia, hurrying into the room and handing him a piece of paper. “Hello, Rebecca,” she adds, giving me a snide look. “All prepared?”
“Yes, I am, actually,” I say, crumpling my paper into a ball in my lap. “Very well prepared.”
“Glad to hear it,” says Alicia, raising her eyebrows. “It should be an interesting debate.”
“Yes,UGG Clerance,” I say defiantly. “Very.”
God, she’s a cow.
“I’ve just had John from Flagstaff on the phone,” adds Alicia to Luke in a lowered voice. “He was very keen that you should mention the new Foresight Savings Series. Obviously, I told him—”
“This is a damage limitation exercise,” says Luke curtly. “Not a bloody plug-fest. He’ll be bloody lucky if he . . .” He glances at me and I look away as though I’m not remotely interested in what he’s talking about. Casually I glance at my watch and feel a leap of fright as I see the time. Ten minutes. Ten minutes to go.
“OK,” says Zelda, coming into the room. “Elisabeth, we’re ready for you,Replica Designer Handbags.”
“Marvelous,” says Elisabeth, taking a last mouthful ofpain auchocolat. “Now, I dolook all right, don’t I?” She stands up and a shower of crumbs falls off her skirt.
“You’ve got a piece of croissant in your hair,” says Zelda, reaching up and removing it. “Other than that—what can I say?” She catches my eye and I have a hysterical desire to giggle.
“Luke!” says the baby-faced guy rushing in with a mobile phone. “John Bateson on the line for you. And a couple of pack-ages have arrived . . .”
“Thanks, Tim,” says Alicia, taking the packages and ripping them open. She pulls out a bunch of papers and begins scanning them quickly, marking things every so often in pencil. Mean-while, Tim sits down, opens a laptop computer, and starts typing.
“Yes, John, I do see your bloody point,” Luke’s saying in a low, tight voice. “But if you had just kept me better informed—”