They were going to Nobu Berkeley for lunch. For a second, Erin had felt nervous when Adam had suggested it, but she was sure she hadn’t done anything wrong; and anyway, would he really take her to a swish eatery if he was planning to fire her? Think positive, she told herself, as she applied her make-up with extra care that morning; he probably just wants to dictate a letter. But she had worn her new Diane von Furstenberg wrap dress all the same.
As they walked into the restaurant, all heads turned. Erin was getting used to the reaction; the presence of a New York billionaire still set tongues wagging six months after his arrival in London. The difference today was that she wasn’t trailing six feet behind him, carrying an armful of papers and folders, mobile locked to her ear, harassed and stressed. Today, Erin was by his side. And it felt good.
‘Would you like me to order for you?’ asked Adam as they settled into the banquette seat. ‘The yellowtail sashimi is particularly good.’
The only Japanese food Erin had ever had was Prêt à Manger sushi, although her tastes had been on a definite upward curve since the truffles in Chris’s flat. She could now tell her cosmopolitans from her caipirinhas but, looking at the menu, she still had no idea what sashimi was. Or yaki for that matter. She wanted to tell Adam that she didn’t want anything raw, but she knew that wouldn’t exactly give the idea of sophistication she was striving for. ‘Yellowtail it is then,’ she smiled, hoping it wouldn’t make her sick.
‘I really should have taken you out for lunch before,’ said Adam, summoning the wine waiter, ‘but I don’t need to tell you how busy we are.’
Erin willed herself to say something funny or witty or clever, but instead all she could do was sit there.
‘I don’t know what your career plan was before you started at Midas,’ he continued, ‘Something about interpreting or translating, wasn’t it?’ Erin nodded. She hadn’t told him about her novel. While Adam was always banging on about the importance of using the best creatives – by which he meant interior designers or architects – she doubted he would hold much truck with authors. Writing a novel was hardly Wall Street.
‘I know working for Midas fell into your lap, but I really think you have a long-term future with the company – if you want it, that is.’
Erin blushed at the praise.
‘You’re bright, resourceful and you have a good eye.’ He pointed a finger in the air to emphasize a point. ‘That building in Battersea you brought to me was a gem. It will make a nice acquisition for Midas’s senior apartment division. There’s a growing demand from the over-fifty-fives who want design-led properties in city centres.’
Erin thought of Jilly and her group of friends living in trendy apartments opposite the Thames and giggled. ‘The retired people I know live in cottages and make Cornish pasties. I can’t see them popping out for cappuccinos.’
‘Rule number one, Erin,’ Adam said seriously. ‘Don’t think about what people want or need now. You have to be predictive. Remember that the new generation of pensioners grew up listening to the Beatles. Old people are pretty cool now. You’ve always got to guess what people are going to want in five years, even ten years.’
She’d read enough about Adam by now to know that was exactly how he had made his money. People had laughed at him after the 1992 crash for going into property, buying up skyscrapers and developing disused warehouses in unfashionable parts of town like Tribeca, but he’d been able to cash them in as they became trendy.
‘I want to learn from you, Adam,’ said Erin, hoping she didn’t sound too gushy. ‘I’d love to get more involved.’
‘What do you like about property?’ he smiled, taking a tuna roll between chopsticks. ‘What do you like about our business?’
She had come out for lunch, not an interview, but she couldn’t choke now. She took a sip of green tea and thought back to the moment when she had found the Battersea building and the adrenaline rush it had given her.
‘It’s creative,’ she said, her face flushing slightly, ‘and kind of romantic too. You come across a building. Maybe it’s neglected, or no one wants it, or maybe everybody wants it and you have to head the competition off at the pass. You develop it, nurture it, and then, just as you’ve got it how you want it, you have to let it go.’
Adam was smiling to himself and nodding. ‘I’ve always thought the process was a little like a love affair, too.’
His green gaze met hers and Erin felt a flutter of excitement. ‘You won’t know this,’ said Adam, ‘but Eleanor handed her notice in to me this morning. She’s going back to New York.’
‘Eleanor leaving!’ said Erin. ‘But I thought she was devoted to you.’
‘Well, it seems “was” is the word,’ he smiled. ‘Apparently I worked her so hard she didn’t socialize, never went to parties or bars and consequently she never met anyone. But then a couple of weeks before she was due to come to England, she fell in love with some guy who works for FedEx who kept coming into the office to pick up my packages.’
‘You can’t begrudge her that,’ laughed Erin.
‘Of course, I’m happy for her. Anyway, that leaves a vacancy as my executive assistant.’ He paused and stared at her while Erin felt her heart stop.
‘Me?’ she asked quietly.
‘Erin. This is a considerable step up from what you’re doing now. This isn’t just diary dates and RSVPing to parties. You have to be my eyes and ears. You’ll be making decisions that affect the company. You know that some CEO’s exec assistants have MBAs from Harvard? Well, you’ve got my faith.’
Erin’s head whirled. Adam made it sound like an honour. He made her feel special. He made her feel wanted. Erin looked at Adam and she wanted him right back.
‘I won’t let you down,’ she said.