Her Father's Daughter [antikvár]

The restaurant was full, the tables occupied by the rich and those who hoped to become rich. It was a quiet place where conver-sations were private and laughter muted. A network anchorman dined one table away. from a male movie star whose career was enjoying new life since he had become the lead in a nighttime soap opera. Both were in deep discussions with their respective agents. The waiters moved like shadows among the tables. It was a place for poli te negotiations and the construction of deals.'I think you can assume that we're interested.' His was a typical banker's smile, wide and all teeth, but his eyes remained cold. 'We need to know more about your security in order to protect our investment.''It's not an investment, it's a loan.'His eyes seemed to lock with hers. But she was accustomed to dealing with bankers. She stared back, unintimidated.He chuckled humorlessly. 'Technically it is a loan, of course. But it really amounts to an investment. We'll be putting up the lion's share of the money. We'll make a profit if you do. And if you fail, we stand to lose at least that much of our cash that's un-secured. So, as you can see, it's not entirely remote from invest-ing.'She glanced around the small, elegant restaurant. He was well known at Le Cirque, where he was provided his own table, one of the so-called power tables, a testament to his standing in the status-conscious New York community. He was relaxed and at home in the pale peach and mauve surroundings. Allowing him to choose the restaurant had been a tactical error. It tended to give him the upper hand.