The Headhunters

Начало книги

‘ I could cheerfully murder my boss,’ Gemma said.

‘Is he a slave-driver, then?’

‘Oh, no.’

‘A groper?’

‘No. He’s nice.’

The logic was lost on Jo, but her friend had a wild imagination- which was why she was fun to be with. ‘You want to kill him and he’s nice?’

‘Not nice.’ Gemma stretched her small, neat mouth into a large, forced smile. ‘Na-eeeeece.’

‘I get you,’ Jo said. ‘I’ve met people like that. Drive you mad.’

‘Imagine working with one.’

Starbucks on North Street, Chichester, was frantic as usual. It was always a haven for mothers with fractious children but on Saturdays entire families with shopping and strollers rearranged the seating and turned the narrow walkway into an obstacle course. Mercifully, the staff turned up the music to drown the sound of infants. But the coffee tasted right and the eats were fresh so where else would you go? While Jo got in line Gemma used her one-time hockey skills to shimmy to the far end and bag two of the much-sought-after purple armchairs, almost knocking over the elderly couple who had just got up from them.

Читать дальше →