The Candidate (11 page)

Chapter 13

The next twenty-four hours flew, and by late Thursday afternoon Ginny was glad the week was close to done; it had been a big one and there was no respite in her line of sight. As she shut up shop for the day, an email popped up from an address she didn’t recognise.

‘Ah-ha.’ The mystery tramper: Daniel Baire. Barely skimming the introductory patter — sorry for the delay, blah, blah, blah — she opened the attached CV and held her breath.

Reading fast, she exhaled slowly. Hot damn, here was her man. On paper he looked spot on, or close enough so she could hold her head marginally higher next time she met with Robert and Jackson. He’d done his undergraduate degree at home in New Zealand, and then, by the look of it, completed a Masters in London. Where he’d been — she rapidly calculated — for close to eight years. He must have a British passport, or perhaps an impressed employer had sponsored him. Either way, his CV looked good. A few brief stints with bigger name firms, building on the experience he’d gained in New Zealand as a new grad, she supposed — and to fund a bit of travelling, as everyone did. Five years ago, he landed a job with Raddle and Smyth, whoever they were, where he had remained until leaving the UK.

Nice. Ginny leant back in her chair, thanking God, serendipity, that damn fickle recruitment fairy. Picking up her phone, she dialled the number listed on the CV. It went to voicemail and Ginny rattled off a quick message. Repeating it in an email, she printed off a copy of his CV, and added it to the pile on her desk.

Daniel’s application meant she had at least four candidates she could talk about confidently, with a handful she’d bring along to give Robert a good cross-section of all the applicants. Two were from Australia, and the one who had come via her brother was right here in Auckland. She was the only woman in the mix, and Julian rated her, which meant something.

Feeling much better, Ginny opened her browser and typed in the name of Daniel’s previous employer. The firm’s URL didn’t come up. She ran her eyes down the list of returns. Nothing. Frowning, she kept looking. It wasn’t until she reached the bottom of the second page before she saw an online article from the Financial Times. It was dated over a year earlier, and announced the integration of Raddle and Smyth into a much larger firm. Interesting. She made a note on Daniel’s CV to ask him about it.

Friday dawned clear and hot. Summer was ramping up nicely. Not that Ginny was going to get a chance to enjoy much of it if this workload kept up.

Ange arrived shortly before nine, looking different but good in a plain suit with her hair pinned back.

‘You look pretty.’

‘Bugger off. I had to borrow this from my flatmate.’

‘It looks good; maybe you’ll get a taste for it.’ Ginny pulled a compendium from her drawer and handed it to Ange. ‘Here you go. A vital accessory for every recruiter: the black folder.’

Ange grinned. ‘Just like when I used to play dress-up. Shall we?’

The session at the university went pretty much as expected. A dozen or so agencies were represented and the competing consultants avoided eye contact as much as possible. One or two greeted each other with smiles; cross-pollination between recruitment firms meant that former colleagues bumped into one another at events like this. Including Ginny; she spied Miles across the room almost immediately and ducked behind another recruiter, hoping he didn’t see her.

The presentation itself was short and sweet. Each consultant had the chance to ask a question or two and was handed an information pack as they left.

‘What did you think?’ Ginny asked Ange, as they walked across the university quad towards Albert Park.

‘It was a bit odd having so many people there but I realise it would take the uni forever to see everyone individually.’

‘Exactly.’ Ginny hesitated as Ange stopped before crossing the road.

‘Do you mind if I leave you here?’ Ange asked. ‘I thought I might pop in and check something in one of the labs.’

‘No problem. Give me your notes and I’ll get started on the proposal.’ It needed to be in by five on Monday, which didn’t give a lot of wriggle room.

‘Gladly.’ Ange handed her compendium over. ‘See you Monday.’

Giving her a wave, Ginny crossed the road and wound down the path through Albert Park towards the city.

Picking her way slowly down the final steep incline, Ginny heard footsteps. She moved closer to the handrail, turning with an apologetic smile — her heels were holding up traffic. The smile froze when she saw Miles.

‘Hi, Ginny. You haven’t called, and you didn’t reply to my email. Ignoring me?’ He fell into step beside her.

‘No, Miles, I’ve just got nothing to say to you.’

‘Well, I’ve got plenty to say to you. Why don’t I walk you back to your office?’

‘No thanks, Miles.’ Seeing the light turn green at the bottom of the hill, she made a dash for it.

He laughed as he easily caught up with her. ‘Stop being so difficult Ginny. I just want to talk.’

She stopped and turned to face him. ‘What is it, Miles? I don’t see you for months and months then suddenly I can’t get rid of you. Just bugger off, okay?’

‘I spoke to Robert the other day. You know, Ginn, Robert Kendrick?’

She shot him a baleful look. ‘What are you doing talking to my client, Miles?’

‘Oh, you know, just wanted to make sure he was happy with the service he was getting.’

‘He’s more than happy, as I’m sure you found out.’

‘The opposite actually.’

They headed down a short laneway that fed into High Street, close to Shine Consulting. But not close enough. Ginny glanced around. No other pedestrians and the shops they were walking alongside were untenanted.

‘I understand the role might be going to market again next week. If you don’t deliver.’

As she quickened her step, Miles clamped onto her arm. ‘Big meeting for you on Monday, Ginn.’

She tried to pull away. He held on, tightening his grip and stepping in close. ‘I could give you a hand. It might be a nice chance for us to work together again.’ He gave her a look she remembered all too well. It made her skin crawl.

‘You’ve got to be kidding.’ She struggled again. ‘Like I told you the other day, Miles — I’m not interested. In anything you’re suggesting.’

‘And as I told you,’ he snarled, twisting her arm now, making her wince, ‘you need to stop being so lippy.’ He gave her a slight shake. ‘I don’t like it. That role should’ve gone to me, Ginny — you’re way out of your depth.’

‘Let go, Miles, you’re hurting me.’ Scared now, Ginny tried to pull free and stumbled as he pushed her up against a wall. There was something nasty in his eyes, something feral; he was enjoying this. She remembered that, too.

He laughed, and she felt the concrete hard against her shoulder blades. It hurt, and revulsion rose up as he pressed into her.

‘I said,’ Ginny half shouted, pushing back, using the wall for leverage, ‘let the fuck
go
!’ She caught him off balance and kicked him square on the shin with the pointy toe of her high heel.

‘Ow! Fuck!’ He let her go and grabbed his leg.

Ginny pushed past him. ‘Stay the hell away from me, Miles.’

He lunged for her again as she hurried away, half-walking, half-running towards High Street.

She had only managed a few steps when someone shouted her name. It was Mac, running up the lane towards them.

‘Ginny! What the hell’s going on?’ He looked at Miles, eyes narrowing in recognition.

Miles stepped back, easing his hands into his trouser pockets. ‘None of your business, mate. Just having a little chat here.’

‘Mac, come on,’ Ginny said. ‘It’s sorted. Let’s just go.’ She started to walk away, shooting Miles a last look, and Mac followed.

Behind them, Miles let out a laugh. ‘Oh — now I remember you.’ Beside her, Ginny felt Mac slow. ‘Still sniffing around our Ginn, are you?’ Miles continued. ‘Haven’t got the message yet, eh?’

Ginny looked up and saw Mac’s eyes darken. She reached for his hand and gave it a tug. ‘Just ignore him. Let’s go.’

He nodded, tightening his hold on her hand.

‘I don’t blame you, mate.’ Miles called after them. ‘She’s a fucking firecracker between the sheets.’

Ginny grabbed Mac around the waist and hauled against him as he made to go for Miles. Something dangerous was brewing in him, threatening to spill over.

‘No, Mac! He’s not bloody worth it. Stop it!’ She didn’t have a chance in hell of holding him back; if Mac wanted to go after Miles, he could just as easily do it with her in tow, but she hoped at least to get him to pause.

Miles laughed. ‘Call off your dog, Ginn. And think about what I said, will you?’ Giving her a wink and a wave, he turned and walked away.

‘Come on,’ she let out a sigh. ‘Leave it, Mac.’

They walked the rest of the way in silence, her hand still in his as he all but dragged her up the stairs into her office.

‘What was that about?’ he asked tersely.

Ginny threw the folders onto her desk and scrubbed her face with her hands. Her arm protested where Miles had twisted it.

‘He’s just being a pig, Mac, that’s all.’ She shuddered. Miles had known he was hurting and scaring her, and it was pretty clear he had enjoyed it. She thought she’d put that part of her life far behind her. ‘How did you know I was there anyway?’

‘I didn’t. I wanted to see if those floors need another coat, now they’ve had a chance to dry. I was walking down High Street towards your place. Saw what was going on. Nice kick, by the way.’ He paused, watching her closely. ‘Did he hurt you?’

She looked up at him and saw that his eyes were still dark, furious. ‘No — not really.’

‘Do you see much of him? I thought you two were …’

‘Give me some credit! I’ve hardly seen him since I got back from London and now all of a sudden he’s everywhere. Pestering me.’

Mac frowned. ‘Why?’

Ginny sighed as she sat down on the edge of her desk. ‘He’s annoyed I got the RK account over him. He would have thought it was in the bag. I’ve just pissed him off.’

‘Seems a bit drastic. Going after you like that because you won some work from him?’

‘True, but …’ Ginny thought of how she’d hightailed it from the country leaving Miles only a brief note. How she’d congratulated herself on avoiding the usual post-break-up drama. ‘Maybe he’s still … shitty with me about the way it ended.’ She looked up at Mac. ‘I just sort of walked out, onto a plane. Never spoke to him again. At least, not personally.’

‘That’s not much of an excuse. Is he hassling you a lot?’

‘No, not really. I’ve bumped into him a few times. He sent an email. Last week he was here, left a note asking me to call.’

Mac’s eyebrows shot up. ‘He was here? When you weren’t? How …?’

She nodded towards the front door. ‘New lock.’

‘What?! He broke in?’

‘Don’t make it sound worse than it actually is. I wasn’t here, the door was open, he walked in, left a note, and went again.’

‘Here? At your office?’

‘No, upstairs.’

‘So he knows you live here?’

‘Mac!’ Ginny threw her hands up. ‘Stop it, alright? He’s just being a dick. You’ve put a new lock on, I’ll be careful, I can handle it. Okay?’ He looked at her, and she held his gaze. ‘Its fine, Mac. I’ve got it under control.’

He nodded slowly. ‘Okay.’

‘Good, now come and see these floors and let me get on with my day. I’m bloody swamped.’

Later that afternoon, Ginny swore out loud — again — and more forcibly than before. Just because it was Friday didn’t mean her computer could sign off early. It had been dragging its heels all afternoon: freezing, taking forever to respond to commands. It was giving her the absolute shits.

She looked at her watch and blew out a breath then took a long drink of water. It was stinking hot in her office. She pulled out her ponytail, scraped her damp hair back, and twisted it up off her neck. The thought of being stuck inside all weekend when the forecast was for more of the same made her groan. But work she must.

Ginny heard the downstairs door open. Expecting Mac, she got up to unlock the doors into the office. She met him on the landing between the two floors.

‘Good to see you took my advice.’

She gave him a look. He was overreacting after what had happened with Miles, and had refused to leave her alone until she promised him she’d lock herself inside.

‘Sure you want to do that now?’ She pointed to the tin of varnish he was carrying. ‘It’s bloody hot.’

‘Yeah, I’m heading down to Gibson’s for the weekend. I’ll get this on and then leave. It won’t take long.’

‘Okay — here.’ Handing him her front door keys she turned back to her office.

‘What are you up to for the weekend?’ Mac called after her.

‘Working,’ Ginny replied tersely and getting the message, he went upstairs.

Back at her desk, Ginny sighed; her computer was still thinking about opening her proposal template. She had planned to put a couple of hours in now, tidy it up tomorrow, and then hopefully polish off the Forsyth shortlist Saturday afternoon. That would leave her Sunday to review everything for RK Investments and Strategy, and give her leeway if she needed more time to finish anything off.

She drummed her nails, tempted to hurl her computer through the window. Maybe she should power the damn thing off. Reboot it and hope it went a bit quicker. She tried to shut it down. No go. Upped the ante and pushed the power button. Nothing. Her screen jumped, froze. She tried again. No go.

‘Shiiiiit!’ This was not good.

Twenty minutes later, Mac came into the office and was startled to see Ginny on her hands and knees under her desk.

‘You right?’

Her head shot up and smacked the desk and he winced on her behalf.

She backed out, rubbing her head. ‘No, not really. Finished already?’ She looked hot, flustered and pissed off.

‘Yeah, didn’t take long to get it on. What’s up?’

‘Your concern is starting to annoy me. I’m fine, okay? My computer is buggered and the sodding IT guy is halfway to bloody Kerikeri for his grandmother’s ninetieth …’