"Appointment with an adviser," she explained earnestly, hitting the button that summoned the lift.
"Good luck," the receptionist smiled back. "But be careful, huh?"
"Natch." She grinner. "I can look after myself, you know - a girl's got to in these uncertain times."
Before the receptionist could observe that the elegant blonde didn't look like she could, Ms. Madison had entered the lift. As she walked into the office, the young man called Vance stepped forward to greet her.
"Lynette," he took her hand, "it's great to see you. How are you? Did you get up to anything last night"
She coloured becomingly, not all that comfortable at being asked what she was still old-fashioned enough to believe was too personal to be appropriate in the circumstances.
"I... I brought the details you said," she held out the case.
"Great!" he took them eagerly," I'll have one of our analysts take a look at it. "Now, why don't you came this way? Mr. Stannard, our principal, is going to talk to you himself."
"Me?" Ms. Madison looked at him, wide-eyed, "why, that's lovely of him! I'm sure he's a busy man..."
"Never too busy for a prospective client," Vance beamed insincerely. "This way, Lynette."
Since the dossier on the company that the Green Man had sent her indicated that the company normally preyed on poor and desperate people, Ms. Madison was not, in fact, surprised at the fact that Stannard wanted to see her himself. Money talks, and the more the louder.
She was shown into an oak-panelled office, where a man in his early forties, with prematurely greying hair rose to greet her.
"Miss Mason," he extended a friendly hand, his charming, old-fashioned manner a marked contrast to that of his subordinate, "I'm so glad to meet you. Vance tells me that you've recently come into some money, and that you'd like help to invest it."
"That's right." She nodded shyly. "You see, I'm not very good with money..."
The smile on Stannard's face was almost predatory.