Marty had made the job offer flippantly. He was pleasantly surprised by Erik’s reaction.
“I’d love you to work with us, Amy,” Kat’s brother said, “as long as you understand one thing.” He had his serious air again. “You must realise that commercialising the cancer cure is an all-consuming passion for me. It’s what my life’s all about. I’ll work hard, and often I’ll expect you to work hard too, because nothing else matters.”
Amy looked stunned. Marty felt a pang of sympathy for her. She was clearly still processing the suggestion. “You don’t have to decide now,” he said gently. “I have my own ideas about business strategy and marketing. Phone me on Monday and we can discuss them. Erik looks tired. I’ll give you a lift back to your hotel.”
“See you again soon,” Erik said. His intense green eyes were locked onto Amy’s. He offered her his right hand, pulling her towards him when she took it and kissing her cheek.
“Take care,” Amy said weakly.
Marty jingled his car keys, glad that Amy took the hint and followed him. “You could do a lot worse,” he said, when they were out of Erik’s earshot.
“What do you mean?”
“I saw the way Erik looked at you. He’s as good as gold, you know, worth twenty of Mr Smooth Bastard Ross Pritchard.”
She winced.
“I obviously got that wrong,” Marty said.
“No, I’ve twisted my ankle,” Amy replied.
“You too? I noticed Pritchard was limping. What have you been doing?” Marty teased. “Wait at the door and I’ll bring the car.”
He saluted her like a chauffeur once he’d collected his sleek silver Jaguar. “You and Ross aren’t returning to London in that condition, are you?” he asked.
“I will,” Amy said. “Not Ross.”
“Very wise,” Marty chuckled. “Leave the lovebirds together. You know the story of Icarus who flew too close to the sun?”
“Remind me.”
“It’s a Greek legend.” Marty read extensively when he flew around the globe on business. “Icarus had a pair of wings. He was warned that the sun’s heat would destroy them, but he flew near it anyway. The warnings came true. I see Kat as the hot sun. Like Icarus, people are attracted to her, but they ought to be careful.” Marty gestured around him. “Erik knows that. That’s why he lives here, a hundred miles away from his sister.”
“He’ll move to London, though, won’t he? To set up his business.”
“That’s not how it works, bab,” Marty said cheerfully. “He’s managed perfectly well in Brum until now, especially as I only charge him a pittance in rent. I like it here too, for that matter.”
“The marketing job is in Birmingham, then?”
“Oh yes,” Marty said. “Parveen will be peeved, but so what? She can’t expect everyone in her team to stick to her like a shadow.” He added, “I think you’ll like it here. In London, everyone wears a mask, pretending to be a brighter, shinier version of themselves. I don’t see that in you and you won’t find me pretending to be anyone I’m not. What you see is what you get. Erik’s the same.”
Amy nodded, lips pursed, apparently unimpressed.
“I’m not always politically correct,” Marty admitted. He dimly recalled making a statement about feminine logic when they last met. Perhaps that had annoyed her. “Let’s talk on Monday. You owe it to Erik, at least.”