The Candidate Read Online Free Page B

got off the ground. Reeling after his rapid and bitterly fought death, she’d been gobsmacked to discover he had left her a piece of prime city real estate — a place to house the business and herself as she had slogged it out during those critical first months.
    It was nothing grand, but Ginny had fallen in love at first sight with the narrow three-storey building. The top floor had passable living accommodation and after years flatting with others, she was delighted to call it home. The second storey was fitted out as offices that were readily adapted to her needs: an office, a basic reception area, and two rooms for interviewing that could be tarted up for the occasional client meeting.
    The ground floor was occupied by a café run by two brothers, with a fast, almost frenetic atmosphere. Ginny came to rely heavily on its great food and coffee.
    She was very lucky to have no rental overheads on her business or home, and to have her start-up costs subsidised by the guys downstairs. Even with the gasp-inducing rates she had to pay on the building, she was in an enviable situation. Still, she didn’t forget for a moment that the cost had been losing her father. Which doubled her determination to make a success of Shine.
    Ginny entered the cafe and smiled at Marco — or was it Bruno? — behind the tough-looking coffee machine that dominated the counter.
    ‘Ah, Ginny! Bella! Good morning!’
    ‘Morning.’ She hoped she could get away without calling him by name. Identical twins. It wasn’t her fault she couldn’t tell them apart.
    ‘Your usual brekkie, hon?’
    ‘No, thanks, I’ve got to keep moving — just a latte to go, please.’
    ‘No rest for the wicked, eh, Ginny?’
    They exchanged smiles, coffee and money. Something like that, she thought. Today was the day, time to take Shine to the next level. Today she had to go catch a big fish.
     
    Ginny had been flattered and intrigued by a call, two weeks earlier, from a woman with a polished voice inviting her to meet with a Robert Kendrick of RK Investments and Strategy. Curious, Ginny had cleared her diary to meet with him.
    Just beyond the main CBD in Parnell, on the top floor of a converted warehouse, their office space was open-plan with a glass-walled boardroom smack bang in the middle. There was an awful lot of polished concrete and exposed steel, with a reception desk of ornate and gleaming wood. From behind it a flawlessly presented woman of indeterminate age greeted Ginny with a cool smile. She seemed to be the only person there.
    Ginny introduced herself and learned that this was Camilla, who had set up the appointment.
    ‘Robert will see you now. This way, please.’
    Ginny was shown into one of the corner offices and the man himself rose with a smile. Robert Kendrick was of medium height, with a frame that might have once been sturdy but was now turning soft. His eyes were sharp, though, Ginny noted as she stepped forward to shake his hand.
    He released his firm grip, ‘Ginny, good to meet you. Please, take a seat.’
    ‘Thank you.’ Arranging herself in a deep leather chair, Ginny turned to him expectantly.
    ‘Had you heard of our operation, Ginny?’
    ‘No, not at all.’ A Google search had shown up only a schmick-looking website that didn’t tell her a hell of a lot about Kendrick or what he did.
    ‘Well, let me give you a run-down. I set up about two years ago after a fifteen-year stint in London. It was time to come home.’
    Ginny nodded. It wasn’t an uncommon line.
    ‘As the name implies, there are two arms to the business. The main thrust is strategy consulting. We also offer clients financing and investment services.’
    He kept talking but, as with the website, didn’t tell her much. Light on details and rich with jargon, it was a PR spiel he could probably reel off in his sleep. Nevertheless it was clear as day this man knew his stuff and Ginny’s commercial hackles were raised.
    As he finished up, Ginny worked to appear