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... er. Gerard Haldane was already there, seated at the head of the table. He rose when I walked in, his hand extended, his politician’s smile warm and well-rehearsed.
‘Miss Vance,’ he said, as if we were old friends. ‘Daniel tells me you are quite the designer. I must admit, I expected someone... older. Please, sit.’
He gestured to a chair opposite. His voice was smooth, the sort that had charmed donors and constituents for decades.
I smiled politely and took the seat. ‘Than ...
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