‘Don’t worry, Ben; Rachel explained about your emergency. We’ve been well looked after.’ ‘I’m sure you have.’ Rachel’s eyes slid self-consciously away from the dark, ironic gaze. ‘I’ll see you all after lunch, gentlemen,’ she said with a smile as she got to her feet. ‘It’s a working lunch; I think it would be beneficial to have you with us, Rachel. Besides, it’s going to be a long session this afternoon; we don’t want you fading on us before we’re through.’ He turned to the other men. ‘These young women and their apples and yogurt. Always dieting.’ There was a general male wave of agreement and a flurry of compliments on the perfection of her figure. Rachel’s smile became strained as she thought vicious thoughts about where she’d put her apple had she had one to hand. She was sure that Ben knew exactly how much she hated this patronising, pat-her-on-the-head sort of situation. ‘I don’t diet and I’ve never had any complaints about my staying power.’ She positioned herself between the solid bulk of Kurt Hassler and Benedict.
