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I hadn’t been listening since Spring Garden. Talsy hadn’t noticed, or maybe hadn’t cared.“This girl you’re talking about. Do you think I’d like her?” I asked. She slowed to a stop.“I hope not.” She said, after a moment, wearing a twisted grimace.“Oh, cool, I’ll trust your judgment,” I said.“Shit! Stop! Moron!” Talsy lunged forward and grabbed my elbow pulling me back onto the sidewalk. The car horn shocked me. I looked up and saw the don’t walk light.“Shit, sorry,” I smiled at her impatient glare. “Head in the clouds.”“Yeah, I see the signs everyday in class.”“Not if you wear a low cut top I’ll bet,” I said remembering my libido at that age.“Even girls can drift off in class, Will,” she said. “There’s a cute little Chinese place up here, next to Darrell’s. You’ve been?”“Not really feeling Chinese,” I said, and crossed the street under the recently changed light.“Can we hold hands?” She blurted out. I reached over and she took mine.“Any reason?” I asked with a squeeze.“I know those. “Sal dear girl I would like you to have a chat with an acquaintance of mine who has a proposal to put to you.”“What is it about?”“Fraid I don't know its hush hush and I don't need to know. But he's a good chap is Quentin and my family has known his for centuries.” The last was quite possibly literally true for whilst Sal was an Essex girl despite she could manage to talk proper if she needed too James was from a family that she suspected could trace his family back to Normandy circa 1066 he had a French surname after all.Sal met Quentin Passel in a private dining room in Mayfair. The exclusive London location didn't impress her that much after the years dealing with the upper echelons of the London business world but what did was how very discreet and private it was. The staff knocked on the door and waited for permission to come in and Sal quietly noticed a signal scrambler that would help prevent eavesdropping. Frankly she was intrigued. But had to wait a while as the conversation.
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