Chapter 5 #3
Many thanks for the invitation to your interview today. Unfortunately, I have a brunch meeting which is likely to last until at least 1 p.m. Is this something in relation to which you need legal advice? If so, I could take a call before 11 a.m. to discuss.
Regards,
Scarlett Heath
Director
Saunders, Taylor and Chamberlain LLP
To: Heath, Scarlett
From: Ryans, Gregory
Sent: Monday 9 Nov 2025 9:29
Subject: Re: Times Mag Interview (1pm)
Scarlett,
Whilst it would of course be pleasant to have you watch me be interviewed by The Times Magazine, I have perhaps misled you with the subject of my invitation.
There will be time during the interview and photographs this afternoon when I would like to discuss the potential joint venture with Shangzen Tek.
It would be a helpful and efficient use of my time.
Regards,
Gregory Ryans
CEO
GJR Enterprises
To: Ryans, Gregory
From: Heath, Scarlett
Sent: Monday 9 Nov 2025 9:30
Subject: Re: Times Mag Interview (1pm)
Gregory,
I could be at your office as soon as possible after my brunch meeting but unfortunately, 1 p.m. may be a push.
I could accommodate an alternative time this week to discuss the joint venture if that would be convenient?
I have also noticed that your previous email was sent from GJR Enterprises.
I had originally understood the Shangzen deal was to be executed through your company Eclectic Technologies.
Please would you let me know the correct entity as I may need to run a new conflict search?
Many thanks,
Scarlett Heath
Director
Saunders, Taylor and Chamberlain LLP
I purposefully don’t tell him that I’ll be at the Savoy for my brunch meeting, knowing he’s partial to gatecrashing my client meetings, or at least having Jackson stalk me on his behalf.
To: Heath, Scarlett
From: Ryans, Gregory
Sent: Monday 9 Nov 2025 9:30
Subject: Re: Times Mag Interview (1pm)
My apologies, Scarlett, the joint venture will be run through a new company (part of what I would like to discuss with you) but I will be completing the deal on behalf of GJR Enterprises.
Regards,
Gregory Ryans
CEO
GJR Enterprises
To: Heath, Scarlett
From: Ryans, Gregory
Sent: Monday 9 Nov 2025 9:31
Subject: iPhone
Regards,
Gregory Ryans
CEO
GJR Enterprises
When I take my iPhone from my tote, sure enough, there’s a message waiting for attention.
I’ve moved the interview to 3 p.m. I’d like you to come. We can go for dinner afterwards.
I quickly fire a message back. I want to be irritated with his demands and my own acquiescence but the thought of seeing him is making my stomach flutter. It’s half-past nine and I miss him already.
I’ll come to the interview but only because you’re paying me to.
Are you quoting Pretty Woman to me?
I grin, remembering torturing him with his first ever showing of Pretty Woman. Mm, how I’d like to be curled into his chest with popcorn and ice cream instead of texting him from my desk.
I’m impressed. One viewing and you know the words already. I usually do yoga on Mondays… for future reference… but I forgot my kit this morning. We have to talk about Shangzen, I can’t just indulge your wealthy-man arrogance and not put time on my clock. Dinner would be nice.
Another beep makes me chuckle.
You have a lot of attitude this morning.
I quickly message what I promise myself is my last text.
You deserve it!
Then I rest my phone face down on my desk but I can’t resist it for more than five seconds when another message comes through.
Aurora.
I beam, no longer cross or even wanting to be. Then I open my Saunders app and call Amanda.
‘You’re so lazy!’ she says as she answers, referring to the fact my office is about ten paces from hers.
‘Yes, but I’m busy. I forgot my kit for yoga, I’m sorry. Can we go tomorrow?’
‘Don’t be sorry; I only go because you drag my arse. Tomorrow, never, whenever, fine.’
‘Great, let’s do the morning session.’
‘Urgh,’ comes through the line before the phone is slammed down.
Ten forty-five comes around too quickly. I wrap myself in my coat and gather what I need to meet with Gregory so I can go direct from the Savoy.
‘Margaret, I’m going to the brunch meeting,’ I call, hanging my head around the corner of my office to the secretaries’ station.
As I’m walking along the corridor to leave, I hear Amanda gasp dramatically. When I dip into her office, she’s sitting bolt upright in her desk chair. Jon, the new trainee, is staring at his feet.
‘The skinny tie was bad enough but tan shoes with a grey suit?’
Jon looks like a child who just had his favourite toy snatched by a bully. ‘Are they really that bad?’
He notes my presence and looks to me for support, I think, but the best I can do is wince.
Amanda pouts. ‘What you wear is the first impression a client gets of you. Insta-judgment.’
‘Maybe go with a different vibe tomorrow,’ I offer. ‘I’m off to a meeting. I won’t be back this afternoon so I’ll meet you at Iron Monger’s Row in the morning, Amanda. Six thirty.’
‘Urgh, fine. Fitness freak.’
Neil is already waiting in the executive chauffeur car when I make it out of the office. He’s wearing a black, hard-hitting, pinstripe three-piece suit that tells me two things. First, the stakes are high. Second, he’s going to flaunt his Head of Corporate title.
‘Good morning, Neil,’ I say, settling into the cold, black leather of the car.
‘Scarlett, how are you?’ He shifts his upper body to face me, his lanky legs trapped by the passenger seat in front of him.
‘I’m well, thank you. And you?’
‘Good, good. We’re going to meet with Mr Ghurair.
He’s the CEO of his family’s construction business.
Extremely wealthy. His family owns the most profitable construction company in the UAE.
Demand is high and they’re taking advantage.
They’re looking to acquire in the UAE and they want to break into more western markets. ’
‘Are they big enough to float?’ I ask, hoping for an initial public offering.
‘Undoubtedly, but they tend to keep things in the family in the Middle East so I don’t foresee an IPO any time soon.’
‘That’s a shame,’ I say, genuinely disappointed.
‘Right. Are you ready to bring your A-game, Scarlett?’
My brows rise unintentionally. Neil Wallace is asking me if I have ‘A-game’?
‘All right, all right, I’m just trying to be up with the kids and all that.’
I snort a too-loud laugh as Neil holds open the door to the kerb outside the Savoy. ‘Down with the kids.’
‘Pardon?’
‘It’s down with the kids, Neil.’
‘Perhaps I’ll keep my colloquials on the down-low over brunch.’
I laugh again. ‘Colloquials? Down-low?’
‘It’s my son; I’m trying to fit in with him but I really haven’t the slightest idea how to mesh with a teenager.’
‘Neil, stick to archaic; it suits you.’
‘Tell my son that.’
I stop laughing and replace my upturned lips with an expressionless line then straighten my coat.
‘Ready?’ Neil asks.
‘Ready.’
The concierge dips his top hat as we approach the Savoy, one of London’s oldest and finest hotels.
We walk through grand mahogany doors onto a black-and-white tiled floor.
The Savoy never fails to impress me with its sheer grandeur and elegance.
A butler makes a beeline for us: grey, button-up coat, top hat, leather gloves and a regal accent.
‘Can I help you with your files, madam?’
‘Please. We have a brunch reservation but I’d like to leave these. They’re confidential so I’ll need to—’
‘I understand entirely, madam. We’ll store them in a locker for you and I’ll bring the key to your table.’
‘Wonderful, thank you.’
‘And your coat?’ he asks, taking the ring binders from my arms.
I unravel myself from my coat and place it across his free arm, then straighten my skirt and blazer as Neil hands over his knee-length, black coat and the red scarf that drapes loosely around his neck.
A second Savoy butler leads us to our table in the restaurant.
‘Mr Ghurair, your guests.’
‘Abdulla, it’s an absolute pleasure to see you again.’ Neil beams, offering a hand. ‘This is Scarlett Heath, the colleague I mentioned to you.’
‘Ah, yes, nice to meet you, Scarlett.’
‘And you, Abdulla,’ I say, shaking his hand. ‘When did you arrive in London?’
‘I arrived Saturday. I have a good friend who invites me to his football when I visit. He takes care of me.’
Abdulla remains straight-faced beneath his black moustache, despite his friendly tone.
‘Shall we?’ Neil says, gesturing with a hand for us to sit.
The waiter steps forward to pull out my chair but before he gets to it, I flash my eyes to his and subtly shake my head.
He clasps his hands together at his lower back and takes a step away from the table as we sit.
Then he moves to place our linen napkins across our laps, starting with Abdulla.
I smile my thanks when I catch his eye. I appreciate being wined and dined and having doors held open for me as much as any woman but this isn’t the kind of meeting to draw attention to my gender.
We’re presented with leather-cased brunch menus and remain silent for the short minute it takes for us to choose an order.
I don’t look for long, opting for the first brunch plate I like to prevent any unnecessary delay or show of indecisiveness.
‘Madam, are you ready to order?’ The waiter pulls a pad of paper from his black trousers and a pen from the pocket of his burgundy waistcoat.
‘Yes. I’ll have eggs Benedict on brown, a fresh orange and an Earl Grey tea, black with a slice of lemon. Thank you.’
He moves to Abdulla then Neil and takes our menus with him as he leaves us to talk.
‘Abdulla, I was enlightening Scarlett as to the family business on our way here. She was very impressed, as I always am. I think I’m right in saying you’re looking to acquire in the UAE and Europe?’
‘Yes. Correct. Our focus is Middle East for now. We do not want to be the biggest construction firm in the UAE; we want to be the construction firm in the UAE.’