Kitty’s Google told her that he was responsible for Banking Law, Insolvency, Bankruptcy and Corporate Recovery, Insurance Law, Defamation, Separation and Divorce.
‘So are these usually the kinds of people you work for?’ Kitty asked. ‘Busy businessmen who don’t have time to shop for their loved ones?’
Eva looked at her curiously. ‘What makes you think that’s the case here?’
‘I’ve Googled him, I know his type. Work first, family second. They’re so used to having people do things for them – their dry-cleaning, their shopping, their housework – that buying presents for their loved ones is not on their list of priorities.’
‘Well, if that’s the case, I won’t be working for him.’
‘Why not?’
‘I would rather find someone who actually wants to find the perfect gift for a loved one as opposed to someone who couldn’t be bothered. I choose my clients as much as they choose me,’ she said, wide-eyed and sincere.
Kitty was immediately intrigued, both by Eva’s philosophy and by her earnestness.
‘I invest a lot of my time into my clients, Kitty,’ Eva smiled. ‘I need to know that they care about who they’re giving a gift to, or else how can I possibly care? I’m sure it’s like you writing a story. If you don’t care, how can the reader?’
Kitty thought about that. The girl spoke the truth.
After a ten-minute wait in a sparkling marble reception, the elevator pinged and a young gentleman in a dapper suit with pink tie and handkerchief called them from the lift. Kitty immediately guessed that this was not George Webb; he reminded her more of a younger Julian Clary. His eyebrows were tweezed to perfection, his skin glowed as if it had been carefully exfoliated and nurtured since childhood, she didn’t detect make-up but there was a sheen from his high cheekbones that made her jealous.
‘I’m Nigel,’ the camp dapper young man introduced himself to Kitty, though his words were clipped and his hand wasn’t extended. ‘I’ll take you to the office. Who are you?’
‘Kath— Kitty Logan,’ she stumbled again, not yet used to using her nickname as her professional name.
‘And what are you doing here today, Kath-Kitty?’ he asked, mocking her mistake.
‘Work experience,’ Kitty lied sweetly for no particular reason other than to annoy him.
‘For the mature student, I assume,’ he preened, not believing her.
Eva just smiled and shook her head at the two of them.
He led them to a waiting room. ‘Wait here, he’ll be with you shortly.’
Eva sat down and Kitty wandered around the room examining everything. They were very different creatures, that was for sure. Eva was the type to do what she was told, follow orders and be polite. Kitty couldn’t, she never could. She always felt there was something she wasn’t being let in on, something further to what she saw, and she always wanted to know what that was. She had always been profoundly curious as a child, trying to see through façades and uncover secrets people hid away for no reason other than because they felt the secrets meant something, though in reality they probably didn’t to anybody else. At college she would separate from her friends on nights out and usually end up sitting beside the person she considered to be the most interesting, challenging, complex person in the room, while she listened to their fascinating stories. She sought out unusual minds, loved hearing both the mundane and fantastical. She didn’t believe that what you saw was necessarily all there was and she felt a burning desire to discover what was really beyond the layers of each person. It was this fascination and, indeed, love for people that she brought to her stories in Etcetera and perhaps this love for people had not transferred well in her stories on Thirty Minutes. While working there and covering investigative stories, her love had changed to distrust, a need to know what people were hiding from her. Her usual skills of simple conversation and understanding had been altered to game playing, trying to get people to speak without their realising it, trying to get quotes from people who didn’t wish to be quoted. She went about telling stories in a completely different way.
She paused at this sudden insight into herself, thinking Steve perhaps had been right. Steve, her long-time friend, whom she rarely had a deep conversation with, had known more about her than she had known herself. She felt goose bumps on her skin all of a sudden and looked up to see what had caused them.
She noticed then that Eva was watching her as she moved around the room examining the art on the walls but really examining herself, and this all of a sudden made Kitty feel uncomfortable. Observing was her job, the cloak of invisibility that came when watching others was what helped her gain insight, and Eva was taking that role from her. It was unnerving, unnatural for a watcher to be watched and it put her on edge. Kitty gave up prowling around the room and sank into one of the leather chairs.
The door opened and George Webb entered the room.
‘Hello,’ he said, a big smile with perfect teeth greeting the women as he looked from Kitty to Eva. ‘Ms Wu, I assume,’ he said, looking at Eva. It was the obvious choice. She was oriental, her long hair thick and silky, and so black it almost gave off a blue hue where the light hit. Her skin was flawless, she barely wore any make-up, but she didn’t need to: she was blemish free and strikingly pretty.
‘Well, it’s not me,’ Kitty joked.
‘This is Kath-Kitty Logan,’ Nigel said, joining them in the room. ‘She’s a journalist for Etcetera.’ He raised a perfect eyebrow at her as if to say she couldn’t get one past him.
George Webb seemed confused.
‘It’s a magazine,’ Nigel explained. ‘Not one you’d read.’
‘But you do,’ Kitty smiled at Nigel.
‘No. I Googled you.’
Kitty laughed. ‘I’m doing a story on Ms Wu,’ Kitty explained. ‘But please don’t worry, everything will be about her, not her clients. No names will be mentioned. I simply want to get an idea of how she works.’ If the story was indeed about how Eva worked, or if it was about something else entirely. So far, Kitty had no clue whatsoever but she tried to sound confident in her sale.
George Webb thought about it. ‘Okay,’ he said. ‘Sounds fine to me. You’re a popular lady,’ he added, sitting opposite Eva and studying her.
George was striking, extremely handsome, well groomed in that modern Irishman way, with two separate eyebrows, tweezed nose hairs, attention to the finer detail of his face without embarrassment. He wore a smart suit, nothing too elaborate, but stylish and fitted. Eva was looking at him with the face of somebody who was looking at something beautiful, just as he was looking at her. The mutual attraction was obvious. It was as if Kitty wasn’t even in the room, which was how she liked it – when she was working, at least. She was going to enjoy this one.
‘I got your details from Nigel,’ George explained. ‘He told me you were the best.’
Nigel, who was making them coffee, threw them a look, annoyed. Kitty knew he was the reason they were there when he had gone out of his way to be so entertainingly rude.
‘Well, that’s very nice of Nigel,’ Eva said
