Eleanor Pt. 06

TWELVE

There was a buzz in the office the following week when Eleanor returned from lunch with a client in the company of the financial controller. One of the firms that Eleanor's company had been courting for nearly a decade was going to be visiting Manchester the following Wednesday. Technically, the company involved, Avian Enterprises, a pharmaceutical company that specialised in treatments for cancer and a range of degenerative diseases, was a client rather than a prospect, but this was really a nicety, given that the only business it had contracted with Eleanor's company was the commissioning of a consultancy report more than six years previously.

At that time, the founder of the company, Logan Birdwell (hence 'Avian'), had been at the helm of the company. However, since his death from heart disease at the age of 58, the chairmanship of the company had passed to his wife, Kate, who was believed to be in her mid-forties. Although her own background was in fashion design, she was possessed of considerable business acumen, which had served Avian well since her husband's death, and she had in large part won over the doubters. Those she had been unable to win over had in almost every instance left the company. What might be said with confidence is that there were not to be found too many sceptics among shareholders, who had seen the stock price rise steadily over the past three or four years.

A delegation numbering at least five people (including a strong IT presence) was due to visit, since, after much discussion and toing and froing, Avian was finally in a position to consider embedding quantum machines in its data centre infrastructure. The news was especially welcome for Eleanor, who had taken over the main negotiating role within her company nearly a year earlier and hadn't seen a lot of progress. She was aware that some of her colleagues felt she was out of her depth with the account and that it should be handed to someone with more experience.

The bottom line now was that she and her team (for which she arranged the immediate secondment of additional personnel) had a week in which to come up with two packages (with a variety of tweaks and optional components), and get the costing agreed with the senior management team, led by Bob.

Eleanor worked 12-hour days for the next seven days, including Sunday, until finally, when the day arrived, and she sat down to the first meeting with Avian at 9.30am, she was as ready as she felt it was possible to be, given the time constraints. Although two more meetings were scheduled for the day, those were to be of a more technical nature, and one would include a visit to the company's own data centre. Concerns had been raised about perceived problems with using quantum technologies, largely centring on the noise and, in particular, the excessive energy use, and Eleanor was keen to allay these fears by demonstrating the state-of-the-art applications which they had recently installed.

However, everyone knew that first impressions were going to be everything. It was very unlikely that Kate Birdwell would attend either of the lengthier technical meetings, so it would be necessary to sell her the advantages of quantum at that morning meeting.

Eleanor and her colleagues were already seated round the oval-shaped table in the boardroom when Bob escorted Kate and her four colleagues into the room. Unsure whether to rise to their feet or not, it was a bit like comic capers as two of the men rose, looked round to see the others remaining in their seats and promptly sat down again.

Bob, who was always very good in these types of situations, turned to Kate, saying, 'Don't worry about them - they're in IT!' and the faux pas actually turned out to be something of an icebreaker. On first view, Kate appeared to be your typical Alpha female, dressed in a grey pin-striped power suit with rather fetching fawn coloured ankle length shoes with what Eleanor could only describe as European-looking open sides. The outfit featured buttons strongly, with three on the double-breasted jacket and perhaps five on the skirt, of which the bottom two were open, revealing Kate's knees as she walked to her chair at the top of the table next to Bob.

After introductions had been made, the floor belonged to Eleanor, who had decided to dispense with a slide show or even a flipchart and to just rely on her powers of painting word pictures. She kept her language as jargon-free as possible as she explained the features and advantages of quantum and then moved on to the benefits of having quantum and classical hardware in the same data centre. She then spoke at some length of the significant performance improvements and cost savings that the mixed model her company was suggesting for Avian had over existing commercial hybrid quantum services. She wound up her presentation by running through the security benefits of using quantum technologies - something which was an area of major concern for all clients and potential clients, in an age where the destructive potential of spammers and rogue programmers hit the headlines on an almost daily basis.

Eleanor had always felt that the number of questions received after a presentation was a very good and accurate predictor of the interest the customer had in the product or service that was being pitched, so she was delighted that she was immediately quizzed both about what she had said and also about aspects that she hadn't covered. Naturally enough, she was expecting the main criticism, which was that the technology was in its infancy and hadn't been adopted by the biggest players, but she dealt with this as best as she could by referring to the innate conservatism of most large companies, and by pointing out that there had been a lot of resistance to electric cars in the early days, but they had performed excellently from the word go. It was all a matter of investment in R&D, and their company was an acknowledged leader in that sphere. The delegation would be able to see the results of that R&D in action when they visited the data centre they shared with a number of other hi-tech companies in a green-field site on the outskirts of town just 20 minutes away.

After the meeting, Eleanor made her way to the room where they were going to hold the meeting with the three technical members of the Avian delegation. As she left the board room, she passed Bob, who was facing away from her taking to Kate Birdwell. Very subtly, Kate moved her eyes a fraction so that she caught Eleanor's eyes. It was enough to make the younger woman stop in her tracks, if it was only for a moment. Her heart was still racing when she got to the IT meeting room. She had taken the stairs rather than the lift, so she could be sure to avoid other people and give herself the chance to compose herself.

She tried to tell herself that it was her imagination, that her mind was playing tricks on her, but she knew better than that. Was the woman merely flirting with her, or was this the equivalent of exchanging phone numbers with someone you bump into in a coffee shop, at the supermarket, wherever? She didn't imagine she would be seeing her again that day, as it was understood that the boss would be taking a train back to her offices in Birmingham. So, Eleanor reasoned, if she really wanted to take things further - get things started, she ought to say - then she would have to contact her. Or maybe she just got off on hitting on random women? Yes, Eleanor concluded; that was probably the explanation.

The meeting with Avian's IT people lasted longer than scheduled, which was a good thing as far as Eleanor was concerned, but did mean that she was late for lunch at the local Italian place. She messaged Bob to say she'd be a few minutes late before she left the office, then took her time responding to a couple of messages that had come in from a new client before walking the ten minutes to the restaurant.

When she got there, she was told by the proprietor, Frankie, that her group was in the private room upstairs. Eleanor made her way to the room where she had been on several occasions before and waited for a waitress to glide past her before making her way into the room. You can imagine her surprise when she saw Kate sitting at the table, on Bob's left. Once again, he had his head turned away from Eleanor and once again the older woman, without moving her head, made eye contact with Eleanor. Not only that, but this time she kept her eyes fixed on her (no - make that more like boring into her) as Eleanor walked the short distance to the table and took her seat two down from Bob on the near side.

Bob made a joke about the company not being able to function without Eleanor as a way of putting her at ease and she made all the right noises in apologising for her tardiness. A waiter came with some soup, but Eleanor waved him away, having decided that she would join the others on the main course, which they had just begun to serve. She had a quick word with Harry, the head of the cybersecurity division, who was sitting on her left, to let him know that the meeting had gone as well as might be hoped. Because of the presence of people from Avian and because it would be both impolite and impolitic to whisper, she used a code they had formulated for just such situations as this, involving his dog. Harry gave the accepted response and then the six of them got down to the serious business of tucking into chef Luigi's speciality: eggs poached in Mediterranean vegetable ragù.

On Eleanor's right (at the other end of the table from Bob) was seated Avian's CEO, while the financial controller of Bob's company made up the party, sitting between the two Avian people. The wine was flowing - very much a hallmark of a lunch given by Bob. He had never really embraced the more abstemious conventions for business gatherings (especially lunches) of the 21^st century, and it was a testament to his powers of persuasion that on this occasion (like many that had gone before it) he soon had his guests casting aside their inhibitions and joining in wholeheartedly.

Kate didn't speak directly to Eleanor during the meal, but when she did speak, typically to Bob or Harry, Eleanor thought she picked up traces of a foreign accent; not German - French or Italian, perhaps. That would certainly accord with her complexion, which was olive, and her hair, which was so dark that you might call it black. The woman was of medium height, and had the kind of figure which could carry off wearing the kind of outfit she had chosen. She clearly dyed her hair, as Eleanor was able to make out some grey around the temples and (she thought - although she was too far to say definitively) - at the roots. She had a face that reminded Eleanor a bit of Isabelle Huppert when she was a similar age, with a prominent nose and rather striking, down-turned lips. Her eyes were hazel and (as Eleanor had already had occasion to notice) very penetrating. They sat deep in her face but without giving her bags under the eyes. She must sleep very well, Eleanor thought. But with whom, now that her husband had passed?

Eleanor was awoken from her reverie by Bob, who was addressing her about something or other.

'It looks like you were a thousand miles away,' he chided her, as her prepared to repeat the question.

Eleanor felt that Kate had fixed her gaze on her again but was determined not to give her the pleasure of ensnaring her in her web a third time.

'I was just saying that Kate here is heading off to Brecon after lunch. She says she does most of her thinking and decision-making there.'

Eleanor's theory about a train to Birmingham went out of the window. It was clearly a chauffeur-driven car down the M5 to South Wales. Sensing - largely from the silence and the various faces starting at her - that she was expected to say something, Eleanor said she couldn't think of a more beautiful place to do one's strategic planning than that part of the world. Kate took the opportunity to address the tall young woman for the first time, asking her if she knew the area well. Eleanor had to admit she had never been there, but her father used to rave about the place, having spent school holidays walking in the Brecon Beacons as a boy.

'Perhaps we can arrange for you to visit one day, my dear,' said Kate in response, watching carefully to see how her addressee would respond.

Her addressee's first response (a reflex one) was to squirm as she felt the colour rise to her cheeks. This reaction didn't go unnoticed by two of her fellow diners: Kate, who was enjoying the fun of the chase immensely, and Bob, who had seen first-hand the effect an older woman could have on his protégé - images of Pamela plunging her tongue into her depths playing in the private cinema of his mind.

'I can't think of a better place to seal the deal,' said Eleanor, pleased with the professionalism of her reply until she realised its ambiguity, its potential for being taken in a quite different way by someone who was looking to do just that.

Kate wasn't slow to exploit the equivocal nature of her reply.

'There is no place I can think of in all the world - and I have travelled widely in my life - where it is more delightful, and more natural, to mix business with pleasure.'

Bob thought of jumping in, but this exchange between one woman he had always wanted to fuck and another woman he had just fucked was just too darned sexy to interrupt. He motioned to Eleanor, as if instructing her to show common courtesy by responding to her last comment. By this time, other conversations had wound down, and all eyes were on Eleanor.

'As long as the business comes first,' she said, in control of her emotions once again. 'That being the case, I would never say no to a pleasant ramble in the rolling Welsh hills.'

Bob's vision of Kate and Eleanor rolling in the hay, then rolling in Kate's bed was cut short by the voice of Frankie, who had come in to check that all was well and to see who would like to try Luigi's award-winning Sicilian ricotta cheesecake.

Eleanor, feeling empowered after the way she had handled Kate's advances ('"My dear", indeed,' she thought. 'I'll make her pay for that one day') turned to the Avian CEO sitting on her right, who she had barely addressed a word to thus far, and asked him about his plans for the weekend. Like all men, he was flattered to be asked personal questions by an attractive young woman. Like all men, again, once he had started talking, he was very difficult to stop. Indeed, it was only the intervention of Harry, who reminded the company that the visit to the data centre was scheduled to start five minutes ago, that brought an end to the CEO's disquisition on the joys of fly-fishing on the upper reaches of the River Wye and the different types of emergers and streamers that ought to be used.

THIRTEEN

After such an intensive week of work, Eleanor was ready to let her hair down on the Friday night. After considering a few places to go, including the pub where she had gone to celebrate Aidra's engagement, she decided to revisit Thetis, a gay-friendly bar in the city centre which she had been to once soon after she moved to the area.

With memories of Kate Birdwell still fresh in her mind, what Eleanor was seeking was an easy pick-up and uncomplicated sex. She didn't dress up particularly, opting for a short lilac T-shirt that barely covered her midriff, jeans and a pair of Dr. Martens' ankle boots. When she got to the bar around ten o'clock, she ordered a drink and sat on a stool at the bar. Whether it was because it was still early for the partying crowd or because everyone going there was already paired up, Eleanor attracted very little attention, so she decided she needed to be a little more proactive.

Looking around, she noticed two young women sitting at a table: one, in her late-twenties, wore her dark hair shoulder length and appeared to be waiting for someone else to arrive, from the way she kept looking towards the door, while the other, several years younger, had long strawberry blonde hair and (from what Eleanor could make out - she had her back to her, but turned her head once to glance in the direction in which her friend kept looking) a very pretty face. She also appeared to be several inches taller than her friend.

'It's now or never,' Eleanor thought, sensing that the two weren't an item and that she might be able to move in on the blonde.

Taking her drink, she wandered over and asked straight out if she could join them. The older woman welcomed her at once, introducing herself and her friend. The latter, who was called Justine, barely made eye contact with Eleanor as she held out her hand and shook hands, as if they were meeting in a lawyer's office. She was stunningly beautiful and had made herself up as if she had been planning on a big night out. This outward ostentation contrasted vividly with her shy demeanour and her inner persona, which appeared nervous and - yes, Eleanor thought - conflicted.

The three of them (but mainly Theresa and Eleanor) chatted airily for ten minutes before Eleanor asked them what they were drinking and went off to the bar to get a round in. When she returned, Justine thanked her politely, then smiled at Eleanor, releasing with that simple gesture a bolt of electricity that shot through the older woman and turned her legs to jelly. She was drinking Southern Comfort on the rocks (a typical student's drink, Eleanor thought). Her dress was very studenty as well: a white hoody with grey joggers. The greatest concession to fashion that she had made was the smart pair of blue and white trainers that she wore on her feet.

Eleanor noticed that Theresa continued to glance towards the door. After a few minutes, the person she had apparently been waiting for rocked up at their table. With her spiky hair and ear and nose studs, she looked your classic dyke. The woman (more Eleanor's age than Theresa's) leant down and whispered something in Theresa's ear. Whatever she said caused Theresa to smile. Her task completed, the other woman wandered back to where she had come from, which, turning, Eleanor saw to be a table of maybe seven or eight women near the door.

Eleanor knew it was only a matter of time before Theresa made her excuses and joined her girlfriend. She knew she must use that time well to make Justine feel comfortable enough to spend the rest of the evening (and hopefully the night) with her. Early indications had been positive: she had put the girl at her ease; now she needed to earn the girl's trust.

With Theresa now essentially playing the role of an interested spectator, Eleanor asked Justine about her life. She was indeed a student - a second-year student at one of the local universities - studying modern languages. That meant she could hardly be older than twenty. Twenty-one at tops. Eleanor shivered with anticipation of what lay ahead for her in the next five or six hours.

'A genuine intellectual?' Eleanor said, teasingly, watching as the gorgeous girl lowered her eyes at the compliment.

'I have a bit of an advantage,' she said quietly. 'I was brought up in France and went to French schools.'

'You said languages?' said Eleanor. 'Do you have another string to your bow then?'

This time Justine laughed; it was more like a schoolgirl's giggle really, but, as far as Eleanor was concerned, she could have burped and she would have found it enchanting.

'Italian,' she replied, glancing at Theresa, although Eleanor couldn't be sure why. 'I'm doing my final-year thesis on Dante.'

'Wow!' said Eleanor. 'Remind me to get you to recite a stanza or two to me later.'

Theresa took the budding friendship as a cue for her to join her friend, making it sound temporary by telling them that, if they didn't mind, she would just pop over to chat with some old friends she'd run into. Eleanor thought she could piece together what was going on here: Theresa had arranged to meet her lover at the bar this evening, and had brought along Justine because, presumably, the blonde girl had expressed an interest in women, but didn't feel confident in striking out on her own, didn't know how to go about finding a like-minded person, etc. etc.