Executive Affair (23 page)

‘But now you know it all. I've nothing left to tell you … I'm not proud of my track record …'

A cool breeze had sprung up quite suddenly and the night was no longer mild. Her wet hair was making her shiver.

‘And why should I believe I'm different?'

He smoothed her hair back from her face. ‘Because you are. I can't put why into words yet. I just know you are. Why do you find it so difficult to trust me?'

‘Because every day there's something new, something else about you that I didn't know. It comes along, knocks me over and leaves me dazed, not knowing what to think.'

‘I'm sorry, Claire,' he said quietly, ‘but there's nothing else for you to know now. All my cards are on the table.'

‘I'm cold. Can we go inside?'

‘Okay, I'll get you a towel.' He hopped out and went inside, totally unselfconscious.

She looked around quickly to see if any unsuspecting neighbours were looking out their window at the tall naked man walking through the garden. He came back with a large bath towel. It was soft against her skin as he dried her slowly and thoroughly. When he finished, he wrapped her in it and they went inside.

Sunday morning started with the piercing tones of the phone beside the bed. She sleepily registered that it was Donald Skates. Robert had a casual conversation with him that didn't seem to touch on business. She lay beside him, wondering why she wasn't running fast in the opposite direction from this twice-married complicated man. She realised it was because she fundamentally
believed him when he said this was different. She felt it too. It was exhilarating to rely solely on her intuition, knowing that on paper their relationship didn't look solid. Robert put down the phone and began to kiss the curve of her shoulder. She arched her back, her body tingling not just where he was kissing. She couldn't run fast in the opposite direction. This felt too good.

They spent an idyllic day together, sunbathing in the garden and floating in the spa. She borrowed one of Robert's books and read intermittently, stopping to chat every few minutes.

‘I hate to talk about work, but with all that's happened this week I forgot to ask you about the upgrade,' he said, turning to look at her, his eyes hidden with black Raybans.

‘It's all done. The live data was transferred last weekend, James has been trained and he thinks the upgrade is great,' she answered, covering her mouth as a yawn escaped. Work seemed so far away.

‘Well done. That went very smoothly.'

‘I can't take any credit for it,' she said honestly. ‘Michael did it all from Dublin with minimal involvement from us.'

She had just resumed reading when he said, ‘The age of technology makes the world a small place … I guess it's on to the next project now.'

‘And what might that be?' She was more alert now. She realised he had his sights on something new.

‘We're rolling out a new commission plan, the one I talked about at kick-off. We'll need to put a roadshow together and run it through all the states.'

‘We?' She looked at him for clarification.

‘I want you to do the main presentation – you'll be in the best position to explain the differences between the old plan and the new one. Frank will obviously need to be there. I'm hoping to
get Steve Ryan along as well, even though it's short notice for him.'

‘When is all this happening?'

‘Over the next two weeks. Melbourne is first, then Brisbane. We'll do Sydney last. Donald wants all the international subsidiaries to be compliant to the new plan by the end of the quarter. I'm totally to blame for the short timeframe, I knew about this weeks ago but I was absorbed in Cathair.'

‘And there was I thinking that things might slow down over the coming weeks,' she joked.

He laughed. ‘I don't do “slow”.'

‘I'm starting to see that.'

‘I should be going home,' she said, putting the book down. It was getting too dark to read.

‘Why not stay?'

‘I don't think so … too much of a good thing.' She smiled at him.

‘Okay, if I can't persuade you, I'll get my car keys. You can take the book with you if you like.' He got up and stretched.

‘Thanks … I'll give it back during the week.'

The traffic was busy but he had her home in less than twenty minutes.

‘Do you want to come inside for a coffee?' she offered as he pulled up outside.

‘No, thanks. I think your Fiona disapproves of me … maybe she thinks I'm too old for you,' he answered with a wry grin.

‘Don't be so paranoid. I know you're old but Fiona respects her elders,' she teased.

‘I'll see you tomorrow, okay?' he said, leaning across to kiss her.

‘Okay,' she said softly, giving him another quick kiss before getting out. She waited until the car was out of sight before going inside.

The flat had the Sunday night calmness that usually followed a busy weekend. She sat down and watched TV with Fiona.

‘I'm going to Melbourne on Friday,' she said after a few minutes.

‘With Robert?' Fiona asked, her expression becoming wary.

‘Sort of … Frank Williams and Steve Ryan will be there too. We're doing a roadshow on the new commission plan.'

‘It's just a day trip then?'

‘We're having dinner with the Victorian sales team afterwards so I'll be staying the night.'

‘So what's going to happen at this dinner? Are you and Robert going to be all lovey-dovey in front of your colleagues?'

Fiona's question was sharp, hitting home.

‘I don't know … I hadn't thought of that … I guess I'll follow Robert's lead.'

Fiona just frowned. ‘You're in way over your head, Claire.'

Julia was finding it hard to breathe in the stuffy room. The speaker said his name was Joe. He claimed he was a lawyer and that alcohol helped him deal with the stress of his work. Julia would have shouted out that he was a liar but for the fact it would mean she was joining in with this pathetic group of people. She studied his red face and quivering hands dispassionately. He was an ugly man. They were all ugly, with their blotched faces, their hardened lips, their dour clothes. They had no dignity, standing up in front of people they didn't know, making fools of themselves.

‘I want to stop drinking, I really want to stop. I realise now that I will never be able to drink normally like other people. I'm afraid of going to the social functions at work. No matter how good my intentions are, I end up embarrassing myself, embarrassing my wife, my colleagues. My drinking does nothing but cause harm … I've hurt a lot of people. I have a lot of making up to do when I get out of here … I've got to win my family's love back …' He started to cry.

Julia was revolted. ‘As if he's a lawyer! He's a bum if I ever saw one,' she whispered derisively to the Asian woman sitting next to her in the circle.

‘And where do you think a bum would get the money to come to a place like this? Alcoholism doesn't have any respect for class or race or gender. Alcoholism is a disease, not a punishment for the “bums” of society,' the woman said, looking at Julia as if she was incredibly stupid.

Julia blushed. She should have known better than to speak to these people.

The Asian woman's name was Amy. She was pretty but worn out. She spoke well, articulate and soft. Her mother had died the previous year and she thought at the time that she had handled it well.

‘I've been here before; this is my second time drying out. I was dry for five years, going to AA meetings religiously, helping other alcoholics. Then I got complacent. Forgot to concentrate on staying sober one day at a time. Forgot that alcoholism is a disease I will carry to the grave with me and not something I'll grow out of. I started drinking again after my mother's death, just a few sherries here and there, to help me cope with the loneliness. But the loneliness got worse, not better. Ten months after her death I was struck with inexplicable grief. The emptiness inside me was unbearable. I went on a bender, a major bender. My husband found me in the gutter, literally. I was down some alleyway, passed out. All my money was gone – I was filthy. He called an ambulance and had to explain to the driver that the filthy person was his wife. I'll never forget his expression when I came to. The hurt. Disgust. He said that he's not sure if he could ever look at me the same way again after seeing me in that state. I knew from his face that I would lose him unless I made a dramatic and fast
recovery. You know, even if I do recover, I could still lose him because I don't know if he can forget what happened, how he found me … So here I am, an alcoholic, and I'll never lose sight of the fact again. I'm an alcoholic for life and I'm back at my AA meetings which I now realise are the only way to keep me sober … I'm not capable of doing it on my own.'

Julia tried hard not to listen. Amy seemed to be looking straight at her.

Stop looking at me, you stupid woman! The management of this God-forsaken place have obviously paid you some money to make up this pathetic story. You're no more an alcoholic than I am.

Their flight was at midday and they were due at the Melbourne office thirty minutes before the 3.00 pm start. Steve Ryan was giving the opening address, followed by a discussion on sales strategies by Frank Williams. Claire's presentation was on the differences between the old plan and the new one. Robert was backup for any difficult questions that might be asked by the sales staff.

Frank, Steve and Robert were nowhere to be found at eleven so she got a taxi to the airport on her own. She had a quick look for them after she checked in but couldn't see them in any of the queues. She boarded and settled into her seat with a hard copy of her presentation to read.

‘So there you are.' It was Robert. He crouched beside her. ‘Why are you sitting way back here?'

‘Because I'm a nobody so I get to fly economy. Executives fly business. Company policy,' she laughed, glad he had made the flight.

‘But you're an executive's girlfriend. There should be special rules in the policy for that,' he said, grinning.

‘Well, change the policy, Mr Vice-President.'

A steward stopped. ‘Can you please return to your seat, sir. We're preparing for takeoff.'

‘See you in Melbourne. Wait for me this time.' He kissed her forehead.

The steward had it wrong; they sat on the tarmac for another thirty minutes. They started the seminar almost an hour behind schedule. Frank ran over his time by fifteen minutes and when Claire stood up to speak, she was acutely conscious of the restless audience. She was glad that she had asked Robert's secretary, Samantha, to help her prepare an energetic PowerPoint presentation. It started off with an audio effect of the Road Runner, the sudden loud noise making her listeners sit up in their seats. She caught Robert smiling and focused her eyes away from his direction, concentrating on delivering her slides with as much speed and clarity as possible. She was able to handle the questions without intervention by Robert or Steve.

Dinner was at an elite restaurant overlooking the Yarra River. She counted sixteen at the table.

‘You know, Claire, I find it hard to believe I haven't had the pleasure of meeting you before.' It was an account manager sitting on her left with an ego bigger than his sales quota.

‘You mustn't come to Sydney very often,' she forced herself to answer politely.

‘I'll be there for a few days next month,' he said with a noticeable wink.

She cringed. ‘That's nice,' she replied vaguely and glanced in Robert's direction for assistance. She couldn't catch his eye. He was talking to the Victorian sales manager. It looked like a serious conversation. She interrupted the conversation on her right
so she wouldn't have to talk to the account manager who had moved his seat closer to hers.

When they retired to the lounge, she found herself in a different group to Robert again. He was standing apart, talking to Frank Williams and one of the female sales reps. Claire waited for him to come over, disappointed when it became apparent that he didn't intend to join her. She excused herself for the night when she saw the account manager making a beeline in her direction.

Robert knocked on her door shortly before midnight, waking her. He was making so much noise she had no choice but to let him in.

‘Hello, gorgeous.' He lifted her up in his arms.

‘You didn't think I was gorgeous enough to talk to all night!'

‘Of course I did … You were so sexy giving that presentation. You look great in that navy suit … I remember you were wearing it the first day I met you,' he said, showering her face with kisses.

‘You remember that?' she asked, forgetting that she was annoyed with him.

‘You bet I do! Look, honey, let's stay on here an extra night. We could take a day trip tomorrow, go to the casino in the evening … It would be fun.'

‘Are you drunk?'

‘I think I may be! Come on, say yes,' he coaxed, continuing to kiss her face.

‘Okay, you've convinced me.'

He walked her backwards to the bed.

Claire's new dress shimmered under the glaring lights and her face was flushed with excitement. She'd spotted the dress in the shop window of a small boutique in Chapel Street earlier in the day. Robert had insisted on buying it for her.

They were winning. Claire hadn't counted the chips but guessed they amounted to a few hundred dollars. Her job was to choose the numbers, Robert was handling the bets.

‘Look! Is that Frank Williams over there?' she asked, suddenly seeing his large bulky frame. He was rigid with concentration, a fine sheen of perspiration coating his forehead.

‘Where?' Robert was looking in the wrong direction.

‘There … straight ahead,' she said, pointing.

‘Yes, it is him. He must be staying the weekend too.'

‘He's at the fifty dollar table. He must be pretty serious about his gambling,' she mused.

‘From what I've heard, he spends a lot of his spare time gambling at Star City,' Robert said as he slid the chips into position on the table.

Their luck changed and they lost the next two turns. They decided to quit while they were still ahead and return to their hotel.

‘You know that company, DC Solutions?' she said thoughtfully as she took off her shoes and sat down on the bed.

‘What about them?'

‘Well, we don't have a signed contract and Frank has authorised some big payments over the last few months. I know it sounds crazy, but do you think he could be using the company in some way to pay off his gambling debts?' She felt foolish at how ridiculous it sounded out loud.

He had his back to her, unbuttoning his shirt. ‘DC Solutions is a US company. We may not have a local contract with
them but I'm sure we have one in San Jose.'

He sounded terse and she instinctively decided not to divulge to him that she had wasted money on two company searches. They went to bed. They didn't make love; she presumed he was tired.

Monday began with the usual anticipation at the thought of seeing Robert. Claire hummed happily to herself as she collected her mail from her pigeonhole. She had said goodbye to him at the airport yesterday morning. She couldn't wait to see him again.

She stopped by Emma's workstation on her way to her office. ‘Did you have a good weekend?'

Sunlight streamed through the window and the shadows of the vertical blinds dashed across Emma's face as she looked up from her work. ‘I had a quiet one. How about you? How was Melbourne?'

An image of Robert and the casino flashed into Claire's mind. She wished she could tell Emma the truth. ‘It was good … really good,' she smiled.

Claire logged in and sighed when she saw that her inbox was full of emails. One of the messages contained the report on ARS Corporation and she sent it to the printer. For the next hour she actioned, deleted, forwarded and delegated until her inbox was clean and she'd earned a tea break.

Frank Williams was in the kitchen when she got there, clumsily making himself a cup of coffee, a task he obviously wasn't used to doing for himself.

‘Did you have a nice time in Melbourne?' she enquired politely as she rinsed her cup.

‘Yes … very enjoyable … I can't say the same about today. I still have a large number of unread messages since my holiday
and my secretary called in sick this morning.' His hands were unsteady as he poured the milk, spilling some on the counter.

‘Well, at least you can ignore the messages I sent you … They were only regarding DC Solutions.'

‘Why?' He looked at her, his black eyes impatient. ‘Are you saying you don't want a contract now?'

‘No, I still want it, but it's not as urgent now I know San Jose might have one at a corporate level.'

‘Amtech Corp has a contract? Who told you that? DC Solutions is a small Australian company – they have absolutely nothing to do with Amtech Corp.'

She stared at his back in confusion as he walked away.

Claire picked up the ARS report from the printer on her way back to her office. She read the report as she sipped her tea. On page six, a Mr R Pozos was listed as one of the directors. His name danced in front of her eyes.

It must be a coincidence.

Her denial was immediate, desperate. She logged into the payroll system to double-check the date of birth on the report against Robert's employee records. The system was slow and it took a few minutes before she could call up his details. The dates matched and she stared at the screen, feeling sick.

I know there's a perfectly legitimate explanation. But why didn't Robert tell me about it in Melbourne? Oh God, what if he comes around here right now and sees this report on my desk?

She stuffed it into her handbag – it didn't quite fit. The edges crumpled as she roughly pulled the zip.

What next? What do I do now?

She shut her office door and rang Fiona, willing her to answer the phone. She answered on the second ring, businesslike and efficient.

‘Fiona … it's me … will you be home tonight?'

‘Yes. Is something wrong?'

‘Just a work thing.'

‘Okay. I'll try to get home early but I have to run now – I should have been at a meeting five minutes ago.'

Fiona hung up, leaving Claire at a loose end. All the issues and tasks on her schedule for the day seemed insignificant and pointless. She somehow needed to avoid Robert until it was time to go home. She wouldn't know how to act normally around him. He would be able to tell that something was wrong within seconds.