“Adam Campion, nice to meet you.” He said sitting down after taking the proffered hand.
The waiter came over almost immediately, giving her no chance to speak. Adam waved him away impatiently and smiled. Giving her time to sit down. Taking his own time to consider the woman in front of him. There was something instantly familiar about her, and he thought that he must have seen her before, yet he couldn’t place where.
“Daphne,” she replied. “Daphne [blank], although you already know that.”
“I guess my intro was a bit superfluous too, but old habits I guess…” Adam felt a slight flush and quickening of his heart. She really was familiar. Not beautiful per se, but attractive. Her mediterranean skin and dark eyes doing a lot for him. A twang of guilt accompanied by a flash of Amber in his mind, yet he pushed it to one side. Now was not the place or time.
“It was nice to speak to you on the telephone the other day, and thank you for accepting me as a client.” She seemed nervous, fidgety, her hands before her and skin dark against the crisp white table cloth.
Every word hung in the air, almost musical, mingling with the soft piped in music elsewhere in the restaurant, the pleasant drone of the other lunch time diners. He found her captivating to listen to, and she had only said a few words. The sun beat in through the large glass windows that made up two sides of the venue, looking gout towards the river and the park beyond. He had never been to this particular restaurant, and had acted On Jane’s suggestion.
“Dine her,” Jane had said. “I’ll foot the bill. She’s paying a lot of money for you Adam, she must see something in your work that resonates with her. The least we can do is start things off on the right foot.”
Adam had objected, arguing that he had never felt the need to wine and dine a prospective client before and didn’t see any reason why he should start now. If she wanted his work - and apparently she did so - then she would surely pay handsomely and commit herself to a contract regardless.
“So?” Jane could be most abrupt when she put her mind to it. One of the reasons Adam liked her. “I’m not sure why you’re arguing the toss. You’re not paying for the bloody meal and you’re going to get a free feed out of it. Try to be a little more gracious.”
This had, of course, raised Adam’s hackles, but before he could speak, Jane cut back in with the day and time of the lunch, but it had been the location that had convinced him. He had wanted to visit The Ivy ever since it opened but Amber never bothered to get her mother to look after Violet so they could go. This would be the perfect opportunity to be seen out at it, and wouldn’t do his ego any harm in the slightest. Now here he sat, with some excellent company, amongst the high rollers and the wealthy tourists that had deigned to also attend on an otherwise uneventful Wednesday. His only complaint was the lack of air conditioning which meant, due to the unrelenting sun, that he was starting to get a little hot. He regretted wearing the shirt, but had wanted to make a good impression. He wasn’t a shirt man though, and this one was too heavy and thick. He blamed that for the heat that continued to rise to his face.
He took a drink of water, motioning to the waiter to come back to the table and ordering a glass of Malbec for himself, before raising an eyebrow questioningly at his lunch partner.
“Nothing for me, thank you,” she said, waiving him away.
Adam felt guilty about ordering alcohol when she wasn’t and then brushed that aside as well. He was going to make the most of this, and if it began with an eleven pound glass of red wine, then so be it.
He let her peruse the menu momentarily, himself doing the same, yet not quite taking in any of the courses. When the waiter reappeared with their drinks, he let her lead and ordered after, the pate and then some kind of seafood dish that would probably clash horrendously with the wine, but so long as he passed it off as deliberate, then he wouldn’t lose face.
They began to make incidental small talk, which carried on through their meal. Adam found her to be excellent company, and a very easy and natural conversationalist. The only time she seemed to stop short or clam up slightly was when he broached the subject of family.
Fair enough, he thought, she probably doesn’t want to talk about it. Perhaps she’s going through some shit.
This was of some relief to him, as it meant he didn’t have to talk about his own, something that he feared would disrupt the flow of the conversation and the potential here. He didn’t wish to derail the afternoon before they had even approached the work, yet he was disappointed not to learn about her own relationship status. It was only later, after he harassed Jane upon returning home, did he learn about the fact that she was, to Jane’s knowledge, single. She focused on her work - something that didn’t seem to be exclusively writing owing to the fact that this was going to be her first published novel. Adam found it all very intriguing. Which was just the thing he needed. It was all too easy to imagine oneself trapped after all, or endlessly caught in a cycle. The same patterns repeating with just the smallest of changes, but repeating nonetheless. He had always thought of more for himself. He wasn’t going to be caught. Yet he was in danger of becoming ensnared. Trapped.
They were on dessert by the time that she began to discuss the book, bringing the manuscript out from the heavy dark leather satchel that had previously sat unnoticed by her feet.
She placed it on the table between them, gently nudging the empty bottle of Malbec out the way, as well as her own glass of water. Her hand remained on top, the contents inscrutable beneath the blank cover sheet.
“I have worked with a lot of artists and creative minds over the years Mr Campion and -“
“Adam, please,” he smiled. The wine had done wonders to loosen his nerves and trepidation, as had the conversation. Neither, alas, had done anything to cool his internal temperature, and his heart continued to thump almost audibly in his chest.
She smiled in return. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t thought her beautiful at first. She most clearly was.
“Adam. Yet I have seen the work you have done for other writers. Other books, like mine. It really is most imaginative and…almost ethereal.”
Adam was quite sure that she was talking shit, just to butter him up in order to get him to do the work. Probably to compliment him into promising that he would speak to Jane and reduce the fee, or throw in a few extra hours of work for nothing. Yet who cared when the compliments were as honey poured into his ear.
“But this,” she tapped the top of the manuscript, “is like none of those books. I’m not sure if your agency has indicated any such thing to you? I have, certain expectations for this and I was hoping that you would be able to fulfil them.”
“I’m sure I will be able to manage that,” Adam replied confidently. He reached out to take hold of the manuscript from her. “It won’t be a problem and I thank you for -“
She pressed her hand down on it, producing the first truly awkward moment of the lunch when Adam seemingly tried to pry it from her grasp. He let go quickly, as though he had been scalded, feeling embarrassed without really knowing why.
“This is different Adam,” she said, seemingly looking directly through him, her dark eyes pools of night in a mid-afternoon sun.
“I get that.” He said, trying to do something with his hand that looked close to normal. He settled with it on his knee, out of sight, and no more threat to her precious book. “What’s it about?”
She shook her head. “I want you to read it. It’s not all here. The rest will come to you when I am done with it. Which may not be until sometime, I hope that is okay? The lady at the agency seemed to think it won’t be a problem after the retainer I have paid.”
Adam shrugged. “Sure, that’s fine. Whatever you have worked out with them won’t be an issue. Just so you know I, eh, don’t work for free so as long as it will be finished at some point…” This wasn’t exactly a complete surprise. Jane had indicated that this was the case, and he would be paid one lump sum in advance, with the remainder when the book and illustrations were completed. He was free to take on other work in the meantime, so it wouldn’t interfere with his other revenue streams.
“It will be. This is too important to me not to finish. I couldn’t believe that Hounsett would actually accept my manuscript. I feel very fortunate to also have secured your services.”
Like hell you do, you’re paying, so you must be pretty loaded, he thought, what is this, a vanity project?
Guilt. He pushed that intrusive thought away.
“I’m just glad we were able to meet. I’ll be happy to take on this project.”
She smiled, yet something was missing.
He returned the smile, and she took the manuscript and placed it in the bag, pushing it under the table towards him.
“Please take care of this, Adam, it is more to me than anything.”
“I promise,” he said solemnly.
She nodded. “I really look forward to working with you.”
“And I you.”
She stood, the waiter bringing her coat, a long black luxurious looking thing. Adam frowned, thinking of something that hadn’t happened yet. How similar yet different this was. Deja vu and nothing more, he was sure.
She looked pointedly at the satchel and he leant forward, picking it up and placing it on the vacant seat next to him. He tried not to be offended that she thought he would lose or misplace it. She would have a copy anyway surely? It wasn’t his problem. Nevertheless, he wasn’t a bloody child. He would hold on to the fucking thing. She smiled.
He smiled.
He watched her go, walking down in front of the restaurant. She didn’t look inside. Didn’t look towards him. She would have felt his eyes on her, yet ignored him. She looked utterly unflappable. He called the waiter over and ordered another bottle of wine. He checked his watch. He still had an hour before he had to pick up Violet from school.
The wine was brought over and uncorked. The waiter retreating to the wings once more. Adam poured himself a large glass and realised he was still smiling as he took another large gulp, savouring the tannins and the spreading warmth.
“When in Rome…” he sighed, glancing over at the bag. He took out the manuscript, thumbed to the first page and began to read.
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