“Mr. Shaw, excuse me.” A man cut in, approaching from the side with an extended arm and a business card in hand. “I’m Phil Pringston, CEO of Internal Management, and I’d be very interested to talk to you about a project of mine that—“

“Excuse me, Mr. Pringston.” Shaking his hand, Martin took his card. “I was about to get some important documents from Mr. Seymour here.”

“You are?” At first, Drake sounded surprised, then reading Martin’s expression, he immediately changed his tone. “Right, the files Straggler needed urgently.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. When can I talk to you?”

Martin glanced at his watch. “It’s quite late, Mr. Pringston, and I’m not sure how long it’ll take to fish them out. Can I give you a call tomorrow morning?”

“I won’t be here tomorrow. I’m leaving for Christmas break and I won’t be back until after the New Year.”

“Fine then.” Martin flashed his brightest smile. “Since I’m leaving for Ireland shortly, I’ll tell my secretary to call you right after the New Year to set up a meeting. How does that sound?”

Drake clearly read the disappointment in Pringston’s face, but the manager had no choice in the matter.

“Sure, Mr. Shaw,” he agreed reluctantly, “as you prefer.”

Martin fished out a card to hand him. “These are my numbers, in case you have some free time tomorrow. I’ll be available for the whole day.”

Pringston nodded, pocketing the card.

“All right, shall we?” Martin turned to Drake.

“Right this way, Mr. Shaw.” The pirate mocked, leading him to the elevators.

Following his gaze, Martin’s lips curved in a snarl. “I hope no one’s coming after us.”

Stepping into the elevator, Drake shrugged. “If they do, they might catch something not very…businesslike.”

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