A very Corporate Affair Book 1 (The Corporate Series) (23 page)

                I did my workout, headed out to the pool, and was just finishing my swim, when Ivan appeared, dressed in a navy suit and crisp, white shirt. He was fresh from the shower, and his hair was still damp, and slightly tousled.

                "Just off. Thought I'd come and say goodbye."

                "Have a good week, and I'll probably see you Friday, although I'm sure I'll speak to you before that," I said, switching into professional mode, which was tricky when I was just wearing a swimsuit. Ivan just stood there, as if he wanted to say something, he frowned slightly.

                "Er yes, ok, Friday. Be good." He turned tail and left. I finished my swim, and dried off, before going back into the kitchen. A small, dark haired woman was wiping down the surfaces.

                "Hello, you must be Ms Reynolds," she said pleasantly, "I'm Ivan's housekeeper, Mrs Ballard, but please call me Jo."

                "Nice to meet you, please call me Elle. Has Ivan gone?"

                "Yes, about ten minutes ago. Now, what would you like for breakfast?"

                "Some toast and a latte would be great thanks, but I can make it, I don't want to put you out."

                "Not at all, it's lovely to have someone here during the week. I mostly just clean the house, and get it ready for the weekend, so it's nice to actually do some cooking for someone. Ivan tells me you're working at the big factory near Derwent all week?"

                I sat down on a stool, "yep, sorting out their antiquated systems. No doubt I'll be dusty and cross by tonight."

                "My brother works there. He is delighted that it's finally being sorted. He was always paid by cheque, usually wrong or late, then had to wait five days for it to clear, so anything will be an improvement." She placed a coffee in front of me, and began buttering my toast.

                "Funny enough, none of the employees have been difficult about it, apart from the old lady who currently runs personnel, she hates my guts, although, to be fair, I did shout at her and make her cry."

                "Marion Smith? Hmm, maybe you should have a look at what she's been hiding," said Jo, rather cryptically, "she had an affair with the managing director years ago, and has always been strangely untouchable despite being rubbish at her job. All the employees have complained about her, and nothing ever got done about it."
Interesting..

                "I'll keep my eyes open," I said, before starting on my toast. Jo changed the subject, asking me my food preferences, as she would be preparing my meals all week.

                It was nice to chat to someone normal, who wasn't wealthy, posh, or beautiful. While I sipped my coffee, she told me about her husband, and two grown up children, and I felt a pang of homesickness for the normality of a working class life. Rather reluctantly, I made my way upstairs to shower, and prepare myself for the day ahead. Roger was picking me up at half eight for the ten minute journey to the factory. It all felt very leisurely and relaxed compared to a normal Monday morning.

                 Roger was in a good mood, greeting me with a cheery 'good morning', and humming along to the radio. I asked him about Saturday night, and he rather evasively answered that 'Mr Porenski sent me on an errand to Surrey'. I didn't question further, not wanting to embarrass him, or put him in an awkward position. We pulled into the car park, and I steeled myself for the day that lay ahead. Just to add to the madness, new filing cabinets were being delivered that day, so that when we were done, the paper files could be stored properly, and neatly, rather than on the rickety shelves. It was going to be a testing day.

                My trainees were all in and at their desks by ten to nine, bright eyed and bushy tailed. Their cases stored ready for the minibus to the hotel that evening. As the first employees came filing in, we scrambled to find their paper files, and deliver them to the correct people to begin the arduous process all over again. Mrs Smith eventually showed up at twenty five past nine, huffing that the traffic had been bad. "In Sussex? Traffic?" Was all I replied. She seemed nervous and edgy around me, but we were too busy for me to take much notice of her. The disciplinary meeting was scheduled for Friday afternoon, when, hopefully we would be finished processing the employees.

                Laura had emptied all the boxes of loose papers, sorted the ones that had to be added to employee files, and put the remainder in alphabetical order. It cleared space for the new filing cabinets, which arrived at eleven.

                With Marion finding files as we needed them, I was free to input the data we missed on Friday. All the employees we had already processed turned up with their ID and bank details, as requested, and I was able to close the files on them. I called Lewis to assure him everything was going well, that we would be done by Friday, ahead of schedule, and asked him to approve two weeks off at the end of July.

                "Knew you'd be fine," he said, "I'll check on those holiday dates, but I can't see why not. I'll call you back in an hour." I got back to work, inputting the salary details from the vast ledgers into the employee files on the computer. It was arduous and painfully slow work. The manager had placed a pencil line through every employee already entered, so I did the same. He was dealing with suppliers all day, so had escaped the presence of the irritating and bumbling Mrs Smith. I had to stop myself being snarky with her over her constant whining about being tired, too hot and her bad back. If she said that the new system wouldn't work one more time, I would have to nail my hand to the desk to stop myself slapping her.

                At quarter to twelve, she picked up her bag, and announced that she was going to lunch. I was about to challenge her, when Lewis called to tell me the dates I'd requested for my holiday had been approved. By the time I'd finished on the phone, the old cow had disappeared. I noted the times and dates down in my iPhone as further ammunition to oust her on Friday. I also text James to tell him I'd booked two weeks off, and ask how his new job was going.

                Just as I put my phone back down on the desk, Roger popped his head round the door, "Lady Golding is here to see you. She requested to speak to you in private, is that ok?"

                 I groaned, "yes, would you mind showing her into room 16 please?"
What the hell did that old bag want?
I picked up my phone and handbag, and trotted down the corridor to the spare office. Bracing myself, I strode in confidently, my impassive, professional, don't-mess-with-me face on. She stood when I walked in. I shook her rather limp hand. She looked nervous.

                "Lady Golding, how nice to see you, I wasn't expecting you. Please take a seat. Can I offer you a tea or coffee?" She sat down in front of the desk. I sat behind it.

                 "Tea would be nice, thank you," she replied. I stuck my head out of the door, and asked Laura, who was passing, to bring two teas. "I came to see if you were alright," she said, uncertainty clouding her features, "and to thank you for your help on Saturday morning."

                There was a thick silence until Laura arrived with our drinks, setting them down on the desk, and disappearing quickly. "Why don't you tell me the real reason you're here?" I said, taking a sip. She looked uncomfortable, and shifted in her chair.

                "Oscar told me what happened. He's in a terrible state over you. I've never seen him like this, and I don't really know what to do. I'm so worried that he'll go back to his old ways." Her words came out in a rush, and in a moment of clarity, I saw that she was just a mother worried for her son, and not the mean, vicious old harridan I'd assumed she was at first meeting. She fished around in her bag for a hanky, and dabbed her eyes.

                "I doubt very much that he told you the truth of what happened. I'm certainly not going to tell you. I'm sure Oscar will be over me, and onto the next girl fairly quickly," I said, wanting to shut the conversation down.

                "He told me you caught him with Darius, in an unmentionable act," she said. My mouth dropped open. "Then he said he offered you money to stay quiet about it, but that you were disgusted that he thought you would blackmail him, that if he left you alone, you would never speak of it. Is all of that the truth?"

                "Why did he tell you?" I still didn't want to confirm or deny anything. Lawyer training kicked in. She looked sheepish.

                "He told me because when I discovered you'd walked out in the middle of the night, I wrongly made the assumption that it had been your fault, and I wasn't very complimentary. He also told me it was you that Mrs Smith had been spouting off about, which of course, I'd repeated at dinner."

                "You weren't to know who that toxic old bat was talking about," I muttered.

                "I know, it doesn't excuse my rudeness though, especially as you were so helpful getting it so beautifully done."

                I shrugged. "I don't know what you expect me to say or do, Lady Golding. I'm sorry Oscar regrets what he did, but I did nothing wrong, and he needs to accept that I'm no longer in his life. He's far better suited to a less, how shall I put it, ordinary girl than me, and I'm sure he'll find a nice titled lady settle down with, and you'll all be pleased I'm out of the picture."

                "You're far from ordinary Elle, you could have asked him for millions, yet you acted with total integrity. He realises what he's lost, and he's beside himself with regret."

                "As I explained to Oscar, I'm a lawyer. My career is more important than a few million, which I can earn legitimately for myself. Blackmailing someone would get me struck off, and I fought way too hard to get here, to just throw it away for someone else's mistake. Now, perhaps if Oscar had been turned down a few more times in his life, he would have been better equipped to deal with this, but we all have disappointments to deal with at times. I didn't have much fun trudging through country lanes, lost, cold, and upset on Saturday night, but I got over it."

                "How on earth did you get home?"

                "I called my driver as soon as I realised there was no village nearby, and he used GPS to pinpoint my mobile phone, and come and rescue me." I didn't need to tell her about Ivan. "I'm a city girl, with no experience of the country. I had no idea how to get back to London. Oscar knew that, and still let me walk out alone. A gentlemen would never have behaved like that."

                "You have no idea how appalled I am at his behaviour, Elle, all of it. I wish none of it had happened, but he's still my son, and I hate seeing him in so much pain."

                "So did you come here to try and persuade me to go back to him?"

                "I'm not sure. I wanted to apologise to you, and see if there was a possibility you could forgive him." She looked at me hopefully.

                "I don't hate him, but I can't possibly be with him. I couldn't live with his predilection. I also found out that I couldn't live in your world, so there's nothing to forgive. My best advice is to go home, give him a cuddle, and let him be the man he wants to be, without the pressure to become what you think is right."

                She stared at me, making me nervous that I'd said the wrong thing. "You really are the one that got away, no wonder he's so upset. He should have grabbed you with both hands, and never let you go while he had the chance. Now, if there's ever anything you need, please don't hesitate to come to me. I owe you a debt for your silence."

                "It's not your debt, Lady Golding, but I can assure you that our secret will go to the grave with me. I have no desire to ruin Oscar, or even Darius for that matter. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a lot of work I need to be getting on with, and an old bat to bully." I stood up, and shook her hand, before she left, escorted by Roger. A horrid thought struck me, I hoped Roger hadn't been eavesdropping on our conversation. Knowing Ivan's habit of bugging offices, I couldn't be 100% sure.

Chapter 17

Staying at the house was wonderful. Jo was extremely hospitable and efficient, providing wonderful meals, and laundering my clothes each day. The week seemed to be flying by, and we were making fantastic progress at the factory. My trainee legal staff had been working diligently and methodically, and we had made huge inroads in the ancient paper system. Even Marion had piped down, and was sulkily embracing the changes. The interim manager even commissioned a cleaning team to tackle the accumulation of dust and dirt in the offices, so it was a more pleasant environment to work in.

                James text to tell me that he was enjoying California, the geeks he was in charge of we're alright, and not too greasy, and that he was delighted that I'd booked time off work, and would begin researching holidays. I missed him, and our flat, and was really looking forward to getting back on Friday, even though he wouldn't be there. Ivan's house was lovely, but I was a bit sick of all the security that watched my every movement, and felt the need for some privacy and quiet.

                By midday on Friday, every member of staff had been seen, according to the foreman's lists. Strangely there were still files unclaimed, and ledger entries not accounted for. I quickly typed a list of names that hadn't been seen, and went in search of the foreman. He scanned the list, looking puzzled.

                "Never heard of any of those people," he said, shaking his head.

                "Not off sick, holiday, or paternity leave?" I probed.

                "No. Nobody on long term sick at the moment, and certainly no pregnant men," he joked, "and we close for two week summer holiday, and two weeks at Christmas. I know every worker in this factory, and I don't know those names."