Molly waited until 7.30 p.m. before she made her move. She left her small cubicle in the Midas Events Department and rode up to the executive floor, where Adam, Marcus and the Midas top brass had their offices. Marcus had left the building a couple of hours earlier for a business dinner with one of their main contractors, but Molly had learnt from Adam’s mousy assistant Erin that Adam would be working late. Molly’s first job at Midas was to plan Adam’s birthday weekend, to be held in Monte Carlo during the grand prix, and it was the perfect excuse for regular tête-à-têtes with her boss.
As the lift hissed open, Molly found herself surrounded by shadows. Most of the lights were off, with the odd grey glow of a computer screen adding an eeriness to the scene. Molly walked down the long corridor towards Adam’s office, her heels tapping lightly on the polished floor. She had taken particular care over what to wear that morning. A pair of slim tailored black crêpe trousers skimmed every curve, her four-inch slingback Manolos exaggerated Molly’s long legs. Her fitted shirt was unbuttoned just a shade too low for the office, and worn without a bra, so that when Molly had grazed her fingers over her nipples during the short journey in the lift, they had stood to attention like hazelnuts. Molly knew she looked good, powerful and sexy, like a Guy Bourdin model.
As she got closer, she could see a shaft of light coming from Adam’s office and, peering through the crack, she could see him bent over his desk, reading a document under a blade of lamplight. He looked up as she tapped lightly on the door.
‘You’re here late, Molly,’ he said, putting down his pen. She noticed him rake his eyes over her body as he motioned her to sit. ‘I’m just finishing up here myself.’
‘I’ve been making some calls to Monaco. It’s taken me all day to get through to some people.’
He motioned to a decanter of bourbon on a table by the window. ‘Drink?’
She nodded, willing him to make it a good measure.
‘So, how’s it going?’ he asked, handing her a tumbler. ‘As I’m sure you’ve discovered, the team have solid business PR backgrounds, so I’m really glad you can bring some flair to our entertaining.’
‘Well, parties are what I’m good at,’ smiled Molly, sliding back in the chair and crossing her long legs. She liked this; the pair of them sitting in half light, Adam’s desk a barrier between them like the chessboard in The Thomas Crown Affair when sexual tension crackled between Faye Dunaway and Steve McQueen.
She looked up and he was staring at her. ‘So?’ he asked, a slight smile on his lips.
She picked up the see-through folder she had been carrying. ‘I wondered if you had a few minutes to go over the plans for your birthday party in Monte Carlo, but if you have to dash off …’
He glanced at his watch and shrugged. ‘No. It’s fine, I have a few minutes.’
To Molly’s annoyance, Adam meant what he said. If he had initially appeared interested in the curve of her breast underneath her thin shirt, now he wanted a swift summary of the menus, schedules and whether he could get into the royal box to watch the grand prix. Molly leant even further forward in her chair so her elbows rested on Adam’s desk, hoping he could get a glimpse of her deep cleavage. She glanced up and saw the scene reflected in the darkened window behind them, his back strong and muscular underneath his white gleaming shirt, her cheekbones accentuated by the lamplight. Oh, we look so good together, she thought, a smile playing on her lips. We fit.
‘You’re in a hurry. We can do this tomorrow,’ she said, hoping she could goad him into offering another drink.
Adam leant back and pulled his jacket off the back of the chair. ‘You know what? Let’s do that,’ he said, as Molly’s smile instantly disappeared.
‘I said I’d go round to Karin’s, and I’m sure you’re seeing Marcus. He has the most dull dinner guests at the Savoy tonight, so he’ll be glad of your company.’
Molly stood up quickly, irritated but not beaten. Men usually fell like dominos when she was looking this hot, but if Adam Gold was going to play hard to get, then fine. She would bide her time. There would be other moments like this, of that she was sure. But still, she didn’t want to waste the moment.
‘It’s probably out of place for me to stay this,’ she said carefully as he slipped his diary and laptop into his briefcase. ‘But I’m glad you’ve come along for Karin after everything that’s happened.’
Adam smiled. It was a mischievous ‘I’m-not-sure-I-believe-you’-smile, but a smile all the same.
Molly pressed her point. ‘You obviously know about the death of her husband Sebastian last year,’ said Molly gravely.
‘It was such a difficult year,’ said Molly, shaking a tumble of hair from her shoulders. ‘I mean the loss of a partner is bad enough, but then having to cope with that whispering campaign? Well, that’s got to be tough for even the most strong-minded of people.’
Adam’s eyes narrowed and she knew she had got his attention. ‘Whispering campaign?’
Molly pretended to look flustered. ‘Oh, I … I’m sorry,’ she stuttered. ‘As I say, it’s none of my business. I’m sure Karin will tell you in her own time.’
‘Molly, tell me,’ said Adam, looking cynical. ‘What whispering campaign?’
Molly paused. ‘About how Seb fell off the yacht.’
Adam raised an eyebrow. ‘But he was drunk. The man sounded like an alcoholic.’
‘Yes, but people said the most wicked things,’ said Molly softly.
‘Just tell me, Molly,’ snapped Adam.
‘People were saying that she pushed him off.’
Adam laughed, although it sounded hollow in the empty office.
‘That’s just fucking ridiculous,’ he said with a half-smile. ‘I think someone, somewhere has an overactive imagination.’
Molly’s expression remained earnest as she continued. ‘You’re right, there was clearly nothing in it. I did hear that a Vanity Fair journalist was sniffing around the story for one of those society crime stories they like doing, but I don’t remember seeing it run, so there obviously wasn’t anything to find.’
‘No, no, of course not,’ said Adam. Molly’s eyes searched Adam’s face, which suddenly looked a little more anxious.
‘Poor Karin,’ said Molly quickly. ‘But, as I say, it’s good she’s found you. She deserves a break after all that.’
Adam smiled, but his thoughts were clearly elsewhere as he gathered his things and showed Molly out of the office.
‘Have a lovely time tonight!’ said Molly cheerfully as she turned and stalked off down the corridor, swinging her hips as if she was on a catwalk. If Adam could have seen her front, he would have seen a wide smile break out across her face.
Erin could hardly believe how easy property developing was, particularly when you were creative with the truth. After leaving Jeremy Sergeant in the Rachman offices, Erin immediately made an appointment at the bank. The Midas Corporation banked with one of the large multinationals, and Barty Clark, the firm’s client manager, ran through the spectrum of options for buy-to-let mortgages.
Erin needed a £400,000 mortgage to cover buying the property and the renovation costs. The problem was, despite her small inheritance, she didn’t quite have the twenty per cent deposit required by the bank.
‘I know you work very closely with Mr Gold,’ said Barty, peering over his glasses at Erin. ‘Will he be making any input in your project?’ he enquired.
‘Adam is my mentor and is very supportive with me,’ she said, trying not to grimace.
Barty nodded slowly then, seeming to make a decision, ticked a few boxes on the application form. ‘Congratulations, Ms Devereux,’ he smiled, ‘I’m sure you’ll make a great deal of money on this venture. I look forward to helping you invest in it.’
Erin walked out onto Lombard Street with a sigh of relief. It was amazing how many doors the name Adam Gold opened. At this rate she would be able to buy the real Peony House by the end of the year. A sense of unease rattled around at the back of her mind, but she tried to squash it immediately. Adam had faith in her. He’d told her so, and to be a success in business you needed confidence and front. The rewards were worth it. She smiled and wondered if there was time to pop into Gucci before she headed back to the office.