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table, already set up with white tablecloth, white roses and a bottle of wine set to chill. Ruby stared round, taking it all in.

Charlie pulled out her chair for her and she sat, hoping the flush of fear mingled with excitement wasn’t evident on her cheeks, betraying the fact that every sense in her body was on high alert. Her heart was pounding and her palms were sweating, but she felt strangely at home with this feared man, in this room far away from everyone she loved.

The waiter simpered, then poured wine into her glass. After he’d presented the day’s specials to them, Ruby took the chance to assess the man who now sat in front of her. He was an attractive man in his fifties, she guessed, with a dark grey suit cut perfectly to fit his strong frame. He had piercing blue eyes, matched only by the winking gold of his cufflinks and designer watch, worn so effortlessly. The scent of rich aftershave, warmed by his tanned skin, was a light undertone in the room. For a moment, a brief second, Ruby wondered if this was a seduction, and everything she’d heard about how he was faithful to his wife had been wrong. Then Charlie leaned in, his elbows planted on the immaculate tablecloth, and spoke in his low, authoritative voice.

‘We’ve got a job we want doin’.’ His manner was firm yet friendly, his smile seemingly genuine.

‘We?’ Ruby said, her throat dry. She took a small sip of the wine. She knew power when she saw it, and Charlie oozed it.

‘Some associates. You don’t need the details, Ruby,’ he said, waving away her question. ‘Just know that we need a job doin’ and your brother’s name has cropped up in some circles of mine.’

Ruby nodded, taking another sip. The white wine was dry and cold.

The candlelight flickered as Charlie leaned in still further. ‘It ain’t the biggest job, I’ll admit it, but your brother—’

‘Bobby,’ Ruby interjected.

‘Bobby, I’m sorry I forgot my manners,’ Charlie continued, ‘well it seems like it’ll be right up his street, and I need to test him, to see if he’s loyal.’

‘Oh, he’s loyal all right, but I need to know what the job is before I agree,’ Ruby said, staring back at the gangster.

Charlie laughed at that. ‘I ’eard it was you who done the deals. That’s fine by me. I like to see a woman with brains takin’ charge – and you look like a smart bird. Listen, Ruby, this job would be a way in. If it went well, then there might be other “work” I’d put his way, if you get my drift?’

Ruby nodded. She understood completely. ‘Go on,’ she replied.

‘If you like, it’ll be a test of his skills and loyalty under pressure. You sure Bobby is up to it?’ Charlie said, leaning back now and taking a long slug of the expensive wine. Out of nowhere, a waiter scurried over and refilled his glass.

‘Depends what he’ll be doin’. What did you ’ave in mind, Charlie?’ Ruby enjoyed the thrill of using the boss’s first name. She’d seen how others virtually bowed to him, and called him ‘Mr Beaumont’, and she’d decided in that instant that she would be different. She’d call him Charlie and consider herself his equal.

If he thought she was being too familiar, Charlie didn’t show it. ‘There’s a bookie up the West End who – how do I put it? – who is out of favour . . . We did some business but he screwed us for part of the money, ’scuse my language. We know there’s at least sixty grand in the safe, and we want to teach him a lesson not to fuck with us.’

Ruby sat back, a little startled at his turn of phrase, but not threatened by it. ‘And you want my Bobby to unlock that safe.’

‘Exactly. But I need to know if he’s up to it. Is he up to it, Ruby?’

Charlie met her eyes. He’d ended up ordering for both of them; a plate of spaghetti with veal and a dressed salad, which was now being placed carefully on the table in front of them both.

‘Buon appetito,’ the waiter said softly as he left the room, closing the door quietly behind him.

Charlie picked up his fork, which caught the light, before sinking it into the pasta and swirling spaghetti expertly around the prongs. Ruby watched him, momentarily fascinated by the deftness of his movements. Charlie looked up and caught her intense interest. He laughed at the sight of her, all thoughts of the dodgy deal they were making lost for a brief second as he decided to teach her how to eat Italian food properly.

‘You pick up the fork like this . . . then you turn it so the spaghetti catches on the fork and as ya turn, it gathers more and more, then . . .’ Charlie opened his mouth and neatly popped the pasta into his mouth, dabbing the tomato sauce off afterwards with a pristine white napkin.

‘You ’ave a go,’ he said, smiling.

Ruby couldn’t help herself, she giggled.

‘I’ll give anythin’ a go, within reason,’ she countered, scooping up a forkful of the dish and delicately nibbling at the pasta.

Charlie laughed. ‘I ’ope you’re better at makin’ deals than you are at eatin’ dinner!’

Ruby blushed. She looked over at him and, placing her fork down, she said, in all seriousness, ‘Look, Charlie. My brother’s a good man. He’s the best at what he does, no one is more gifted – or more loyal – than him. In fact, he’s too good a bloke, which is why I step in and do this bit. He’ll do the work if the money’s right, and I’m the one who makes sure the money’s right. I’d like to check out the place beforehand, go down there with Bobby and make sure he’s happy and we know what we’re gettin’ into. If you’re happy with that, and we can agree the fee, then it’s a deal.’ She

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