It was a private dinner with twelve people. The real agenda stayed unspoken. That suited me fine. Hidden agendas were my specialty.
Hargreave was the sixth person to arrive. I had studied his file for two weeks, so I knew his face the moment he walked in. Mid-sixties, gray hair. The type of man whose opinion people rarely question.
He came straight to us.
“Harper.” He took both my hands in his. “I’ve been hoping we would meet properly. The work you did with the Children’s Foundation last month was impressive. It deserved more attention.”
He had done his research on me, the same way I had done mine on him. I already knew.
“That’s very kind,” I said, sounding pleasantly surprised. “Thank you.”
He smiled, an expression he used to make people feel special, I smiled back and stayed alert.
