Alec couldn’t duck out because he was with Grace. He was sweating from the dance floor and not feeling at all like bright young executive material. Mr Freel greeted him with a forbidding glare. Alec handled it rather well, he thought, by backing out and going to the bar to buy Grace a lager and lime. From then on, he avoided the record company table. Avoidance meant dancing rather more often than he’d intended – which pleased Grace inordinately. Her pleasure was irritating, and worrying in case Mr Freel thought he was a lightweight who couldn’t keep his mind on the job. But he didn’t have a choice. Birdie, unnaturally it seemed to Alec, was keeping company with Mr Freel and the bunch of guys who were clearly his subordinates. They were all easily distinguishable from the club crowd and, obviously, that was the way they wanted it. They were not there to have a good time. This was work. Alec couldn’t think of a way to signal to Mr Freel that he was working too. The best he could do was to be unobtrusive.
