Just Business (11 page)

‘They won't take that option,' the voice assured. ‘If they have to pay you, they'll make you work for it. Steve Jones doesn't know a lot – he's just there to give them a scare about the potential legal costs. I bet they're squabbling already about hiring their own external legal representation to match up to Steve.'

The call ended with the caller's promise to ‘talk soon'.

‘Who was that?' Lily appeared at the hall doorway the instant Denis hung up the phone.

‘Someone from work,' he answered.

‘Why are they calling you at this hour?' she asked with an unattractive frown.

‘They need my help on something. They were a bit too hasty to get rid of the old engineer. They may need me back!' he said. There were certain people who were desperate to get him back to finish the job he had started. But they weren't the people Lily would expect.

‘Was it Bruce?' Lily asked with narrowed eyes.

‘No. Bruce doesn't call the shots.'

He made for the stairs before she could ask any more questions. He would go to bed first tonight. He would read for thirty minutes before turning out the light and he knew Lily would wait downstairs until she was sure he was asleep.

Around the time Denis received the phone call, his barrister was sitting with a Scotch in the quiet of his study. Steve was reminiscing about Lucinda Armstrong. He remembered her as a graduate. Beautiful. Alluring. Unfathomable. He had been the managing partner in a firm of four hundred gunning lawyers.
It was rare that the partners knew the graduates by name but Lucinda stood out from the crowd.

She was extremely clever and breezed through her articles. And she put in long days until she became the top fee-earning lawyer in the firm. But it was more than intelligence and hard work that fast-tracked her to senior associate. Everybody knew that Lucinda Armstrong had committed mentors at the partner level of the firm who cared about her career.

Steve couldn't deny that he was flattered when she flirted with him. He had been as married to Mary then as he was today. They weren't going through a bad patch. Life was steady and the only unpredictability was the antics of their teenage son, Adam. Of course Steve had been tempted by Lucinda's come-on. She was a fresh poppy next to Mary.

Lucinda seemed to find greying hair and deepening facial lines attractive. Later it transpired that she must have also found baldness and extra kilos a turn-on. Then again, maybe it was the aura of power that made the older partners attractive to the stunning young woman. Steve knew for certain that she had slept with two of the partners. They had individually boasted to him about how hot she was. Steve had listened with an impassive face but a sick stomach. His affair with Lucinda had not been a physical one, but it had been real in his mind as she rarely left his thoughts. He had seriously considered leaving Mary and Adam to free himself to respond to Lucinda's flirting and wherever it led. Listening to his colleagues, he realised that he had almost left his family for a tramp. No, he was being unfair. She was young, free and single with a high sex drive. He was the married one and he was the faithless one for thinking like that about a young woman who was fifteen years his junior.

Steve poured himself another generous Scotch. Seeing
Lucinda today had completely thrown him. She looked every bit as beautiful as when he had last seen her, three years before. And he had felt every bit as helpless in the face of that beauty.

Scott pushed Jenny in her stroller as he jogged the walkway along Manly Beach. She loved the wind in her face and the same wind carried her squeals of laughter back to him. The sun was blazing, he was out of breath but the exercise made him feel good.

His lawyer had sent the letter to HDD and the waiting game had started. The letter had asked for payment of six months' notice, a period that was appropriate for the managerial level of his role. They had decided against asking for more and negotiating downwards. Scott couldn't afford the time it took to play those kinds of games. With some luck, the case would be settled quickly and he and Jenny could enjoy this unexpected time together before he rejoined the workforce.

It had been this time last year when the first cracks in his marriage became apparent. Jenny was a few weeks old; Ann wasn't happy. She resented the night feeds, the endless washing, the unpredictability of the baby. Scott did his best to make it easier for her, shouldering a lot of the night feeds, fronting up for work the next morning after only a few hours' sleep. As the weeks passed Ann got more and more resentful and, eventually, when Jenny was three months old, she decided to go back to work. Initially she worked nine to five and seemed much happier. But after a while the hours got longer or there were drinks after work. More often than not, she would miss Jenny's bedtime. Scott slowly realised that Ann didn't love Jenny unconditionally. As a consequence, he loved Ann less and Jenny more.

It all came to a head when Ann was offered a three-month
assignment in Malaysia. She was keen. Being separated from her family was unfortunate but not a deterrent. She would be the acting managing director until a local was recruited. It was a once-in-a-lifetime career opportunity, not something that she could turn down. Scott didn't see it the same way and they agreed to start divorce proceedings before she left. It had been a detached, unemotional discussion and he hadn't seen her since. There had been a gift and a phone call on Jenny's first birthday but that was all. The three-month assignment stretched to nine months with letters from Ann's lawyer being the only form of contact. The letters were urging a de facto property settlement prior to the divorce application. Ann wanted her half of the townhouse in Dee Why.

As he jogged along the walkway, with Jenny's squeals floating back in the wind, Scott spotted a familiar face coming towards him. Niamh. He had been thinking about her a lot since that night in Forbes but had never expected to bump into her out of the blue like this. Blonde hair whipped across her face; her brown eyes were cast downwards. She was with a tall, good-looking man – obviously her husband. Scott was about to give a resounding ‘Hello!' when she met his eyes and shook her head to warn him off. He swallowed his words and jogged past his ex-boss without any visible acknowledgement that he knew her.

He got to the esplanade and he and Jenny shared an ice cream as they sat in the sun. They laughed as they took turns with the cone but he wasn't fully there with his little girl. He was back on the walkway, analysing the expression on Niamh's face. Something about the set of her mouth, the stiffness of her body, told him she had been having an argument with her husband.

‘Our Christmas party is on next week,' Niamh had said a few minutes earlier. Chris walked next to her but their bodies didn't as much as brush against each other.

‘What night?' he asked after a considerable pause.

‘Saturday.' She had told him about it a few weeks ago. Pleading loss of memory was very transparent but he didn't seem to realise that.

‘Are you going?' His voice was muffled by the wind that was gusting in from the ocean.

‘We
both
are,' she said tersely. ‘Your secretary has put it in your calendar.'

They lapsed into silence and Niamh mentally rehearsed how to broach the subject of counselling. She had asked him to come on this walk thinking it was an opportunity to have the meaningful discussion that was proving impossible within the four walls of the house. But so far he was as brusque as ever and she didn't think he would react well when she brought it up.

She put her head down, striding into the wind, her face set in an obstinacy that he couldn't see.

‘Chris, I think we need to see someone, a counsellor.'

For a while the only sound she could hear was the wind. She wondered if he had heard.

‘Chris, I –'

‘I heard you the first time,' was his response.

She lifted her head to look at him. He was staring ahead, his profile stern, his shoulders tense. ‘Well, will you go?'

He let her wait before he answered. ‘Counsellors are overrated. It's not as if they can wave a magic wand that will change your family history and all your hang-ups.'

She stopped dead, a cold fury washing over her. ‘Are you saying this is all about me?'

He stopped a few paces ahead. He looked around to see if there was anybody watching. ‘Look, this isn't the time or place …'

‘What do you mean?' She raised her voice, undaunted by the public stage. ‘You won't talk at home – do you have some
special place
we can go where you'll open up?'

‘Niamh –'

‘Don't you
dare
say this is all about me!' she yelled, walking past him. A few moments later he fell into step at her side but they didn't speak.

She almost didn't notice Scott, jogging towards her with a stroller. The little girl was shrieking with laughter and Niamh was aware of the other walkers' indulgent smiles as they took in the happy scene. The child had the same berry-brown skin and fair hair as her dad. Niamh's eyes moved up to Scott who had recognised her and was starting to slow down. She shook her head in a moment of panic, signalling that it wasn't a good time to talk. She saw confusion cloud his face, but he kept going and they passed each other on the walkway without exchanging words.

The silence with Chris went on for the rest of the walk home and she was free to analyse the brief glimpse of Scott. Sweat had gleamed on his face. His hair had grown longer, surfy and sexy. His thighs were firm, his stride long. He had been enjoying the heady effect of running against the wind every bit as much as his little girl. When she saw him next she'd have to apologise for not stopping to talk. It would be hard to explain, though. How could she tell him she had reached a dead end with her husband only moments before? How could she tell him that she didn't want him to stand next to Chris? She would feel compelled to compare the two men and she knew that Chris wouldn't come off the better.

Jessica and Sharon had an impromptu consultation at Sharon's desk.

‘I wonder if he'll go,' Jessica mused.

Sharon knew she was talking about Scott. There was no need for names. ‘I doubt it,' she replied bluntly. ‘He's suing us – he'll feel that he isn't welcome.'

‘Maybe we should ring him, let him know we'd like him to come,' Jessica suggested, sitting on the desk.

‘Let him know
you'd
like him to come, not
we
,' Sharon corrected her, haughty as she flicked back her peroxide fringe from her eyes.

‘Come on – let's phone him now,' Jessica urged. ‘You have his number.'

‘I'm not phoning anyone.'

‘Oh come on, Sharon! You're the extrovert – he won't think anything of you phoning him. He'd think it was weird if it was me.'

Sharon relented and looked up the number. ‘Anything for a peaceful life.'

She dialled the digits and the phone on the other end rang six or seven times before it was picked up.

‘Scott!' Sharon gave Jessica the thumbs-up. ‘Hi, it's Sharon – and Jessica … yeah, we're good … how are you?' Sharon listened for a few moments before saying, ‘Did you get your invitation to the party? You know, the Christmas party … Are you coming? … Why not? … I'm going … and Jessica and Don are going. We're planning a big night out – it would be great if you could come too …'

‘What's a big night out?' Scott asked with a laugh on the other end.

‘You know, the usual Christmas party stuff – getting outrageously drunk and making total fools of ourselves.'

‘That sounds quite appealing … Is Niamh going?'

‘Yes … is that a problem?'

‘No, not at all,' he said quickly. ‘We're on good terms … I was just asking.'

Phil did everything he could to avoid the follow-up meeting on the harassment accusation. After a number of cancellations and false starts, the meeting finally went ahead.

He sat down with insolent impatience. ‘I'm too busy for this!'

Niamh found it peculiar that he didn't want to commit the time to clear his name. ‘This meeting is in your interest,' she reminded him as if he were a child. ‘It's your chance to respond to Helen's allegations.'

‘It's all bullshit!'

‘You need to be more specific than that, mate,' Lucinda put in with a small smile.

He shifted his bulk around in the seat, then fidgeted with his loud tie. ‘Look, the attraction between me and Helen was mutual …'

‘There's a witness who says that Helen resisted your advances,' Niamh told him. ‘Our evidence doesn't appear to support a mutual attraction.'

Phil looked startled. ‘What witness? Who?'

‘I'm not at liberty to say.'

‘How do you know they're telling the truth?' He was petulant, his lower lip thickening in a pout.

‘Her account matches Helen's exactly.'

It took him a few moments to summon a response. ‘Well … I genuinely thought the attraction was mutual. I thought I was getting all the right signals,' he stated, his gaze alternating between Niamh and Lucinda, fishing for some support.

‘Do you have anything else you want to say?' Lucinda asked, prompting him to make a better attempt at his defence.

‘I could apologise to her if you want – maybe that would make her go away,' he said hopefully.

Niamh shook her head. ‘She won't be going away, Phil.'

Phil was looking a little unsure of himself now. ‘What are you saying?'

‘We need to assess your future with the company.'

He paled and Niamh felt a wave of amazement that the possibility of dismissal hadn't entered his thoughts before now.

‘For Christ's sake! Can't we just pay her some extra money to shut her up?'

It was Lucinda who answered, quiet yet firm. ‘No, sexual harassment claims don't work like that. We're obliged to take disciplinary action.'

Phil marched out of the room and went in search of his mate, Malcolm. He found him in his office.

‘You've got to tell those two bitches to get off my back!' he said, helping himself to a seat.

Malcolm looked up from his screen with a frown. Calling two female executives ‘bitches' was unacceptable even to him.

‘Have some respect, eh? There's no need to talk like that.'

‘There's every need! Niamh told me she was going to assess my future with the company – who does she think she is?'

Malcolm didn't respond straight away. He didn't need Phil and his insatiable sex drive to add to the pressure he was already under. Yoshi Murasaki was taking note of everything he did and every word he said. And it was all being fed back to Nishikawa Shacho, the humourless vice-president in Tokyo.

‘Look,' he said eventually, ‘I'll speak to Neee-uv and make sure your ass is saved this time. But if you do something like this again, I'll be the first in line to boot you out. Got that?'

Phil's jaw dropped open and it was a few moments before he sufficiently regained himself to ask, ‘What the hell's got into you?'

‘You ask what's got into me?' Malcolm's stare was unwavering but his voice was rising. ‘This is one of the worst years ever in the technology industry. If that wasn't bad enough, we have litigation flying at us left, right and centre, threatening our profits even more. I have the Japanese watching every step I take. Need I go on?'

Malcolm didn't like to be watched. He was a top-level guy, keeping out of the detail as much as he could. The Japanese obsession with micro-managing was driving him crazy. He wanted to tell the Japanese spy and the vice-president to go to hell. He wanted to but he couldn't.

Phil reacted to the telling-off in the only way he knew how. ‘I'm going to stop in Forbes on the way home for a drink. Want to join me?' he asked, standing up, his profile showing a significant beer belly. His wife would be furious that he was late but he was past caring.

Malcolm shook his head. After Yoshi's tongue-lashing, he felt compelled to tone down his social activities. He was also beginning to acknowledge that he was getting too old for Phil's wild tastes. The finance director remained married to the same woman but bedded any willing female without remorse. Malcolm had been relatively faithful during his two marriages and was in awe of Phil's alley-cat ways. Waitresses, strippers, lady taxi drivers, Phil had stories to tell about all of them and, boy, did he love it when he had an audience to listen!

Malcolm went back to his work. He was tired of the pressure, tired of coming to the office to get beaten down every day. But he had to do this for one more year. Just one more year of raking in a CEO's salary. That was all he needed before he could retire. His two kids by his first wife were going to the best private schools in Sydney. They had expensive ways, just like their mother. His second wife wasn't getting alimony but she had nearly sent him broke when they divorced. He was soured by marriage and wouldn't be doing it again. He found it an inflexible and expensive arrangement.

Malcolm recognised that he needed to win over his executive team if he was to survive as CEO for the next twelve months. He'd had a shaky start but it wasn't too late to make amends. Phil as finance director was a bonus; he would be onside once he got over his sulkiness after today's telling-off. Lucinda Armstrong would also be okay; she was one of those few women who didn't demand too much. Bruce was harder to read: he ran
his business without consulting with any of the team. He looked mildly surprised when Malcolm asked him the odd question, but at least he wasn't hostile. Then there was Niamh, who he hadn't figured out yet. He sensed that she and Yoshi had shared opinions and he feared a future alliance between the two. The Japanese spy was the biggest threat of all – watching every move from the sidelines, feeding his version of events back to head office. Malcolm had a plan to deal with Yoshi. First he would create an executive team that was so closely knit it would collapse if Yoshi tried to take him out of the equation. Then, when the team was pulling in the same direction, the results would get better, the Japanese would be more amiable and Malcolm would insist that Yoshi be sent back to Tokyo.

The rest of the week rushed by and it was Friday again. The office hummed with anticipation and chat about the party the following night. Sharon and Jessica left early for hair and beauty appointments. Niamh didn't finish up until after seven. She was clinging to her work, creating as many reasons as possible to be home later than Chris. It was somehow easier to be the last one home. It was a competition now. Chris was winning hands down.

Yoshi was also on his way home. He stood at the lifts, rigidly holding his briefcase. ‘Hello, Niamh. How was your day?'

She gave him a wry smile. ‘Long!'

‘What is happening with the legal disputes?' he asked with some trepidation. In his opinion, running a business in Australia was not unlike warfare, ducking and dodging potentially fatal missiles that came from all directions: aggressive employees, demanding customers, complicated federal and state governments. Every day there was something new to fill him with worry.

Niamh made a face. ‘We're still sparring with Denis and
his lawyers. Lucinda says that we may have to compromise.'

‘What do
you
think?'

The lift came and Niamh waited until they were inside before she answered. ‘Quite frankly, compromising doesn't appeal to me. But if we've done the wrong thing by Denis, then we have to face up to it. It's a bitter pill, particularly when he's so unpleasant and rude …'

The lift shuddered to a stop and they both got out. Yoshi was frowning, deep lines creasing his smooth forehead. ‘What about the other disputes?'

‘I've talked to Phil – twice.' Niamh bent her head as she searched through her handbag for her car keys. ‘And I've talked to Donna, the witness. To be honest, I can't see a way for Phil to redeem himself.' She found the keys. When she looked up she noticed that Yoshi's frown had got deeper. In fact, he seemed quite upset.

‘It is a shame that any woman should be put in a situation like that … I presume we will be releasing Phil of his duties?'

‘I need to speak to Malcom first. He's also a witness.'

Yoshi nodded curtly and made to walk away.

‘Yoshi …'

‘Yes?'

‘Are you going to the party tomorrow night?'

‘Yes, I will be attending.'

‘I'll see you there.'

‘Very well. Goodnight, Niamh.'

As she got into her own car, Niamh realised she had forgotten to update him on Scott. But then it was probably for the best that he didn't yet know she would be recommending a settlement. She'd already given him enough bad news for one day.