Executive Affair (12 page)

‘Rob loves his job. There's no way he's going to leave the company,' Cherie reasoned.

‘Watch this space, Cherie. Watch this space,' Julia said darkly and abruptly hung up.

‘What was that all about?' Wayne asked, ungluing his eyes from the TV to look at Cherie as she sat down beside him.

‘Just Julia … blaming Amtech for all her problems with Robert.' She moved a toy from the sofa so she could sit comfortably.

‘I'm intrigued. How has she reached that conclusion?' Wayne was sarcastic. He didn't have much time for Julia.

‘She doesn't see Robert when he's here; he doesn't call her when he's away. She says he's too busy with work to have a wife.' Cherie yawned. She was tired.

‘Robert has always been over the top with the hours he works, it's all part of the image he presents to Donald. It's how he justifies his salary.'

‘Don't be so cynical,' Cherie frowned at him. ‘Robert has a lot of responsibility and he's very committed. How many
vice-presidents are hands-on enough to take a finance director's role in a subsidiary?'

‘That was his choice. It's the most stupid idea he's ever come up with.'

Cherie was furious with Wayne for speaking about Robert in such a derogatory way but she swallowed her retort. She was too tired for an argument. They watched the news in silence for the next five minutes.

‘Julia wants him to leave Amtech,' she said eventually. She wasn't good with silences.

‘She might not have to wait too long. We should all make the most of Robert's little visit to Sydney. Sooner or later, Donald will come to his senses and tell him to get back to San Jose or get out.'

Wayne's jaw was rigid after his bizarre outburst. They were close to an argument so she left him to the TV and went for a bath. She didn't know what the hell was wrong with him tonight.

Saturday morning dawned with a brightness that made Claire feel instantly better. When she got outside she found that the sunshine was thin and there was a nip in the air. She shivered in her denim skirt and thongs and resolved to wear more appropriate clothes for the time of the year.

It was a pleasure catching the train, not having to fight for a seat or be caught up in the crowds as they swept impatiently through the station. She turned on the lights when she got to the office, relieved that nobody else was in, not in the mood for mindless chitchat when all she wanted to do was work. She worked solidly for four hours, aiming to get out of the office by lunchtime and salvage something of the weekend.

‘What are you doing here on such a beautiful day?'

It was Robert Pozos. He had admired her slim brown legs for a few moments before making his presence known. She swirled her seat around to face him. Her face was bare of make-up, her black hair tied back carelessly.

‘Don't you have better things to do at weekends than hanging out at the office?' he smiled.

‘Not really.' She pulled a sad face. ‘I broke up with my boyfriend last night.'

He nodded and looked quite sad himself. ‘I know how you feel. I'm going through a divorce and somehow it's easier if I absorb myself in work.'

Knowing that he was divorcing his wife disconcerted her. She had him in the ‘married category' in her mind.

‘I'm sorry to hear about your divorce.' She didn't know what else to say.

‘Thank you, but it has been a long time coming and it's certainly for the best.'

She looked anxious to return to her work. He knew he should leave. ‘Do you have much work to do today?' he asked, moving closer to her desk.

‘A few more hours. I should have that information ready for you first thing Monday morning.'

He frowned, trying to recall what she was talking about. His face cleared when he remembered.

‘I didn't intend for you to work the weekend to do those reports – they can wait.'

‘It's okay …'

His eyes connected with hers: navy blue, startling in her fragile face.

‘Well, I'd better get on with this or I'll never get out of here,'
she said, indicating the papers strewn on her desk to cover her discomfort.

‘Okay, I'll see you Monday. Have a good weekend,' he smiled and left reluctantly.

Claire tried to take it easy for the rest of the weekend. She didn't go out with Fiona that Saturday night, a cardinal sin in Fiona's eyes. She was a firm believer that Saturday nights were sacred – you had to have a very pathetic life if you stayed at home. Claire somehow resisted the pressure and went to bed early with a book. She was fast asleep fifteen minutes later and didn't wake until late the next morning, still tired. It was an overcast day and she was secretly relieved. She wouldn't feel as guilty about staying at home all day. Remembering that she had brought home some two hundred cheques that needed her signature, she decided to get that tedious task out of the way. She put the cheques on the bed, propped up her pillows and started signing.

She wasn't concentrating too hard on what she was doing as the cheques required two signatures and Robert had already signed. She had signed the one for DC Solutions and a few more after it before it triggered that she had never heard of DC Solutions before and the cheque was for a large amount: $600,000. She retrieved the cheque and studied the supporting paperwork. It was a commission payment related to a deal Amtech had signed during the week with Initial Insurance. It wasn't unusual for the company to pay commissions to outside parties who gave them the sales lead or helped close the deal. Claire remembered the deal being approximately $3 million, which made this commission twenty per cent of the revenue. The usual rate was in the range of five per cent to ten per cent.
She put a Post-it on the face of the cheque to follow up with Frank Williams the next morning.

‘Hi Claire, how was your weekend?' Emma asked, popping in to say hello on her way to her desk.

‘Boring wouldn't do it justice,' Claire replied as she opened her mail. ‘How about you?'

‘Fantastic! Went up north. Stayed in a great place.'

Emma had a very active outdoor life and frequently gave Claire welcome tips on bushwalks and unspoilt beaches that were off the tourist track.

There was a red envelope in Claire's mail that looked like an invitation of some sort.

‘Oh, that's your invite to the Sales kick-off. It's being held in Barossa House,' said Emma.

‘Where's that?'

‘On the North Shore. It's a beautiful old house. Lots of people get married there.'

‘Are you going?' Claire asked, quickly scanning the invitation.

‘
Everyone's
going! We had the best time last year! Nobody turned up at work the next day due to severe Hangover City! And they're having it on a Thursday night again this year … wouldn't you think they'd have learned their lesson?'

Emma had a pained expression on her face, presumably from the memory of how she felt the day after last year's event. Claire looked up from the invitation, just in time to see Frank Williams walking purposefully past her office.

‘Frank, Frank, have you got a minute?' she yelled after him.

He changed direction and came back, his huge bulk leaning on the slender doorframe. ‘Yes, what's wrong?'

‘It's about the payment to DC Solutions for the Initial Insurance deal. It works out at twenty per cent. How come we're paying them so much?' she asked, getting straight to the point. She and Frank didn't pretend to exchange pleasantries since the last senior management meeting.

‘We didn't have a choice. It was a very competitive deal and DC Solutions got us in there. We hadn't a hope of winning it without them.'

‘I haven't come across them before. Are they new?'

‘This was our first time doing business together.'

‘Do we have a contract with them?' she persisted, ignoring his obvious irritation at being questioned further.

‘No, we don't have a contract. It was a last-minute verbal deal. But if another deal comes up with them, I will personally make sure that our solicitors write a contract.'

‘Do that,' she said, refusing to back down.

‘Is that all?' he challenged, making a move to leave.

‘I suppose so.'

‘Touchy, isn't he?' Emma commented when he was gone.

‘Frank doesn't like to be asked questions, especially not by me. Would you mind putting this cheque on James's desk as it's on your way?'

She wasn't totally satisfied with Frank's explanation but there wasn't anything else she could do. The problem with Frank was that he was slippery, and she was never entirely sure if he was telling the truth.

Barossa House was an impressive venue for the Sales kick-off. An expanse of immaculately manicured gardens protected it from the noise of the busy street. The old house was cloaked in soft outdoor lights, giving it a regal but welcoming aura. The four weeks that led up to the event were very busy for Claire. Robert was exacting and had endless stamina. She had prepared a lot of the financial information that he was going to present at the kick-off.

It was a full-day forum, with a series of presentations right through the day, ranging from new technical information to general strategies for the company in the coming fiscal year. The pace was fast and Claire had to listen carefully to Steve Ryan's presentation.

‘To summarise, we need to do more business through our partners in the next year. It's the only way we'll be able to expand the company. We'll be taking on two new sales reps who will specialise in cultivating relationships with partners who have
the potential to give us worthwhile sales leads. We will have standard contracts with all parties. This is an area where we have been lax in the past.'

Steve switched slides to a colourful bar chart.

‘One of the key assumptions behind our budgeted margin figure in this slide is a maximum incentive payment of ten per cent to our partners. It's important to ensure that we stay within this limit. You must remember that we will be eroding our margins with this new sales strategy. Giving more than ten per cent could put us in a loss.'

Claire was pleased.
That should mean no more cheques like the one for DC Solutions. If we have supporting contracts and standard percentages, I'll have nothing left to argue with Frank about
…
we'll be best of friends.

Robert's presentation was the last one of the day. His focus was on the common weaknesses in the deals that the sales team had closed during the year. Claire had spent a few days researching the issues for him. They had worked together to narrow the list down to a few priorities. He was a good presenter, his natural authority demanding the attention even of those less interested listeners. She couldn't help admiring him – his confident voice, his casual movements across the podium as he talked through the slides.

‘The deals we strike in the last week of the quarter have the worst margins and are fraught with problems. We are often forcing the customer to take software that they're not ready for. Not only is this unprofessional, but when we go to collect the money the customer argues that they didn't want the software until later, so why should they have to pay now? Most of the problem accounts that Alan Harris is currently working on have developed from this scenario …'

Claire shot a look in Alan's direction. He glowed with self-importance at Robert's reference to him.

‘We've got to stop this quarter-end rush and spread our sales out evenly over the quarter. To facilitate this new initiative, we will be setting monthly targets instead of quarterly targets for our sales team. As result, our deals should be constructed better and we should also find that both our sales and finance staff will have a more even workload.' He paused to look at his watch; they were a half hour behind schedule. ‘Any questions?'

Frank Williams had his hand raised before Robert stopped speaking. One of the ushers handed him a microphone.

‘No questions, Robert. I just want to take this opportunity to point out that the company will not only be setting monthly targets but as a result will also pay commissions monthly.'

All he is interested in is how much money he gets and when he gets it,
Claire thought. She knew Robert well enough to see that he was irritated by the unnecessary interruption.

‘Thank you for adding that, Frank. We will be releasing a new commission plan that will spell out how it all works. We'll organise a roadshow to launch the new plan. Now, any more questions?' He scanned the audience briefly. ‘Well then, never let it be said that I stood in the way of the bar.' This got a laugh, chairs were vacated with relief and a hum of conversation started as they all made their way out to the foyer.

The company had booked rooms at the venue so staff could shower and change before the formal dinner in the evening. Emma, Stacey and Claire were sharing a room. Black was the theme of the night and all guests had to be dressed from head to toe in it. Claire's dress was figure-hugging velvet, with slits from knee to ankle on the sides. She wore her hair up, tendrils framing her face, and she spent quite some time with
her make-up as the dress deserved it.

Robert was talking to Steve when he saw Claire walk in. She smiled and greeted a number of people on her way. She looked stunningly beautiful and he was immediately conscious of the looks she was getting from some of the other men. He wanted to go straight over to her, to be one of those singled out by her smile, but Steve was still talking animatedly about something that he should be paying attention to.

The pre-dinner cocktails were quite potent and Claire was feeling a little light-headed by the time they were ushered into the dining room. The Finance department sat together at a large round table, except for Robert who sat with the other executives. The mood was boisterous and an outrageous quantity of wine was quickly consumed. Whenever a table was served another bottle, someone would shout out their tally. James was determined that their table should drink the most. Even Alan Harris looked less grumpy, though Claire was glad she was sitting next to James and Emma and didn't have to struggle to make conversation with him all night.

On the way to the bathroom after the main course, she realised she was much tipsier than she had thought. Lifting her dress to negotiate the wooden stairs was a very complicated exercise. Taking deep breaths in the privacy of the cubicle didn't help. She decided to go outside and get some fresh air.

It's so hot
,
no wonder I'm a little light-headed,
she thought.

Making her way back down the stairs with a steady posture required intense concentration. She cursed the dress for being so long and awkward. She went outside, sitting down on one of the benches in the garden. Her head was spinning.

Don't make a fool of yourself. Sober up and don't drink any more. In fact, go home after the dessert.

‘Are you all right, Claire?'

Oh God, it's Robert. How embarrassing!

‘Yes, I'm fine. I just needed some fresh air. It's very stuffy in there,' she said primly.

Then she spoilt the act by hiccuping and they looked at each other briefly before bursting into laughter.

‘Okay, I'll own up. I think I had those first few cocktails a little too quickly.'

He sat down beside her, taking a box of cigarettes from his shirt pocket.

‘Would you like one?' he asked, offering them to her.

She took one and he lit it, his face illuminated for a second. She inhaled too deeply, choking on the smoke in a very undignified manner.

‘Sorry, I don't usually smoke. I don't know why I took one,' she giggled.

Robert stood up, laughing, and took her hand. ‘Come on. I'll walk you around the garden. It might help.'

It sounded like a sensible plan. When she was standing he let go of her hand and led her by slightly touching her elbow.

‘Are you going to fire me for inappropriate behaviour?' she asked, making a funny face at him.

‘You'll be getting a serious warning, young lady, but I can't afford to fire you. You work too hard.'

The trees were lit with hundreds of tiny bulbs that cast dusky light on the gravel path. Their crunching feet the only sound.

‘How long do you plan to stay in Australia?' His voice was soft against the silence, almost part of it.

‘I don't know. A few years. Depends on what happens at Amtech, I guess,' she answered, distracted by him being so close.

‘Everyone thinks very highly of you. You can go far in the company. Would you consider moving to San Jose if a good opportunity came up?' He turned to look at her briefly as they walked.

‘Yes, I would,' she replied, keeping her eyes down, focusing on her unsteady feet, ‘but I do want to stay in Sydney a while yet.'

‘Of course … I was talking about a few years' time. The company likes to keep its best people and I just want you to be aware that there are opportunities for you outside Australia.'

‘That's good to know.'

‘Do you miss Dublin?'

‘No, not at all. Dublin has too many bad memories for me. Maybe I'll miss it when those particular memories aren't important any more.'

In the darkness, when he didn't have her face to distract him, he noticed how beautiful her accent was. He couldn't stop himself from probing further.

‘Are those memories connected with your ex-boyfriend?'

He felt her stiffen. ‘How do you know about that?'

‘Mark gave me some background information when he put your name forward for the role.'

‘How embarrassing! You must think I'm pathetic.' She was mortified.

‘Not at all, Claire. I admire you for having the courage to start a new life. That's part of the reason I'm in Sydney as well.' He thought her ex-boyfriend must be very stupid to leave someone like her. He wanted to say it out loud but was unsure what her reaction would be. ‘You know, I visited Dublin about three years ago. Mark had just come on board and I went over there to do his induction. I remember being introduced to all his staff but I can't remember meeting you.'

‘I may have been on study leave. I was doing my finals about then. Anyway, there are a lot of people in the Finance department in Dublin. I don't think you would have remembered me if we had met.'

You're wrong.
Again, he had to stop himself from saying it out loud.

‘What about you?' she asked. ‘Do you miss home?'

‘No. I haven't been happy in California for many years.'

She didn't know how to respond to that so she walked silently beside him until he spoke again.

‘My personal life has been one mistake after another. I have a lot of regrets.'

Claire was hit with the realisation that she liked Robert Pozos, his surprising lack of ego, his self-deprecating frankness.

‘You work very hard. Are your regrets due to the fact you committed too much to Amtech?' She was asking the questions now – she wanted to know more about him.

‘Partly. That and poor judgement in the relationships I've had.'

They were almost back to the wide steps at the front entrance of the house, the brighter lights and the sound of music and voices hovering. Robert looked down at her, his face darkened by the shadows, his eyes glittering.

‘Do you feel okay to go back inside now?' he asked, almost affectionately.

His hand was on her shoulder, she felt it brush her hair gently.

‘I think so. At least I have an annual leave day tomorrow, unlike some of the others who are going to be in a very sorry state in the morning … I'm sure we must have won the wine tally. Are you proud of us?' She smiled up at him, teasing.

‘Very proud. Drinking is one of the most important skills in Finance, much more important than being numerate. That was very clever of you, arranging for tomorrow off. What are you planning to do?' He was interested in how she spent her spare time.

‘Sleep in. Go shopping.' She braced her shoulders and lifted her head dramatically. ‘Here goes. I'm going in!'

Robert leaned forward and she felt something brush the top of her head.

Did he just kiss me?

She went inside, without looking back at him, knowing that he was standing there watching. Nobody had even noticed she was missing and she sat down and joined in the banter easily. She noticed that he came inside about ten minutes later. He sat down without looking in her direction. She must have imagined that intimacy in the garden. It wasn't surprising, considering that she was more than a little drunk.

It hurt to move her head. She lay in bed for hours, too nauseous to get up. In addition to the dreadful headache, there was another sensation. It was almost like excitement. She compulsively replayed the scene in the garden, feeling his lips brush her hair, finding it impossible to know if it had all been in her imagination or not. She knew how easy it was to get things out of context when you were drunk.

Emma phoned her at four o'clock. ‘I'm absolutely dying. I've been cursing you all morning for having the day off,' she complained. She sounded awful, her voice hoarse and cracked.

‘You can't feel as bad as I do, believe me,' Claire answered, massaging her head as she spoke. ‘I haven't been able to get out of bed – I've wasted my precious day off.'

‘Poor Stacey has spent the day in the loo, being violently ill.'

‘That's more than I needed to know, Emma.' Claire's stomach was still very sensitive and the image of Stacey throwing up didn't help.

‘James rang in sick this morning. He said to tell you that he's sorry but if there was any possible way for him to function, at any level, he would have come in. He's promised to work on Sunday instead. Some chance.'

‘Did Robert come in?' Claire hoped the enquiry sounded casual.

‘Yeah, he was in at nine this morning and has been working like a trouper all day,' Emma answered, not detecting anything unusual about the question. ‘He came over and asked me some questions that I actually had to use my brain to answer. It nearly killed me.'

‘What time did you guys finish up last night?' Claire had left straight after the meal.

‘About three in the morning.' Emma sounded proud.

‘Really? Who was left there at that time?'

‘Myself, James, Alan Harris, Frank Williams and some others from Sales. The Sales crowd headed off to the casino to blow their hard-earned commission so we went home. Alan followed Frank to the casino like a puppy dog. He thinks he's part of Frank's inner circle.'