Executive Affair (7 page)

The weeks and months blurred together: busy days at work, walks on the beach, and smoky barbecues on the balcony. Claire had been in Sydney two months. The city felt familiar by now, almost like home. She missed her family, and Susan, but only a little. She was becoming more and more confident with her job. Emma was onside and was now quite friendly. Alan Harris was under control. The job was fulfilling and challenging and added to her overall happiness.

Then Den moved out. He'd met another girl, Jackie. Fiona pretended not to care, but Claire could tell that she was upset.

Claire was more than happy to discard the draughty sunroom for Den's bedroom. He had barely closed the door behind him when she ran in to inspect it. The walls were a shabby magnolia, the floorboards dull and aching for some varnish.

‘It's a bit grotty,' she said, ‘but all it needs is a good lick of paint.' She checked her watch. ‘If we went to the mall right now, I'd be able to get it finished today.'

‘I'm not really in the mood for shopping – particularly not for paint!' Fiona protested.

‘It'll do you good … keep busy … it's the best cure for a broken heart … and I should know.'

For a moment Fiona looked as if she was going to dispute the broken heart bit but she let it go.

It took only an hour to choose a soft lilac paint, a colour that Den would have hated. Claire also bought a patterned rug for the floor, some new bed linen and a bedside lamp. She would have liked to get a few more things but didn't want to test Fiona's patience.

‘If you think I'm going to help you paint, you're sadly mistaken,' Fiona said grumpily, as she flopped down on the couch when they got back.

‘You don't need to worry yourself, I know what I'm doing. It'll only take an hour or two.'

Claire put on the radio, turned the volume up high, and began with gusto. Two hours later she came out, defeated. Fiona was sitting in the same spot.

‘I haven't even got halfway through. My neck is killing me and I swear to God I'm high from the smell,' she complained, joining Fiona on the couch.

‘See, it's not as easy as it looks. And this is the weekend – we're meant to be relaxing not
working
,' Fiona said unsympathetically.

‘What do you mean “working”?' Claire was indignant. ‘You've been sitting on your fat bum all day. I'd be finished by now if you had helped me!'

‘I would have helped only I'm very … fragile at the moment.'

Claire made a sad face. ‘Because of Den …'

Fiona nodded, tears smarting in her eyes. ‘I know I have no right to mind about him and Jackie. We finished a long time ago. But it was a big mistake not to make a clean break. It was comfortable to sleep with him on nights where neither of us had someone else … I just got used to him always being there … now I feel so lonely without him …'

‘Poor Fi …' Claire gave her a clumsy hug.

Fiona pushed her away. ‘You smell of paint.'

‘So much for trying to help!'

‘If you want to help, you can go out and get drunk with me tonight.'

‘Here.' Claire handed Fiona her drink. ‘This should make you feel better.'

The bar was packed. It was difficult to find even standing space.

Fiona threw back her drink. ‘What does Den see in this Jackie that he doesn't see in me?'

‘I don't know. You're gorgeous and smart and witty. He can't possibly do better.'

‘That's enough,' Fiona giggled, ‘you're making me want to gag.'

‘Claire?' She felt someone tap her shoulder. She turned around.

‘James,' she said with a surprised smile.

James looked every bit the surfer, with his streaked hair, Rip Curl T-shirt and faded jeans. Claire saw a spark of interest in Fiona's eyes.

‘Hey, this is my mate, Paul. Paul, this is Claire, my Irish boss.'

Paul's blue eyes stared at her, magnified by silver-framed
glasses that made him look charmingly studious. His fair hair had a slight curl and he had a rather cute smile. ‘I've heard a lot about you from James.'

‘Good things, I'm sure,' Claire laughed.

‘What are you girls up to tonight?' James asked, looking from Claire to Fiona.

‘Drowning our sorrows in copious amounts of alcohol,' Fiona replied.

‘Do you mind if we keep you company?'

‘Not at all.'

Fiona found a seat and settled down to entertain James and Paul with slightly exaggerated stories of life in Ireland.

‘My sister is married for a year now and my mother said to her last week that she hoped she wasn't using any pills to interfere with the course of nature. My sister was about to state, very indignantly, that she didn't take drugs when she realised my mother was talking about contraception!'

They all laughed and Claire took the opportunity to steal a look at Paul. He was already looking her way. He smiled at her and she smiled back.

It was the early hours of the morning when they left the pub.

‘Do you girls want to kick on to a club?' James asked, his hand lightly touching Fiona's waist

‘Not me, I'm too tired,' Claire said, ‘but you guys go ahead.'

‘I've an idea. Why don't you come back to our place for a nightcap?' Fiona suggested, her words a little slurred.

By the time they got a taxi and let themselves into the unit, Fiona was more subdued. Claire assumed the role of barmaid. When she came back with the drinks, Fiona was asleep on James's shoulder. Paul was looking through their CDs.

‘Thanks.' He took his beer from her laden hands. ‘Do you mind if I go out to your balcony for some air?'

‘Sure, I'll join you in a minute.'

James took a beer and seemed quite content to stay on the couch with the sleeping beauty.

Paul was leaning on the railing when she came outside. She stood next to him.

‘Have you known James long?'

‘We grew up together.'

‘That's nice.'

‘For me it was. But James had a tough childhood.'

‘Did he?'

‘Yeah. That's why he's so ambitious.'

James was easygoing and relaxed at work. Claire concluded that his ambitions must lie outside Amtech.

‘It's great that your friendship lasted all the way through your childhood and teens to now,' she commented.

Paul shrugged. ‘We have a lot in common. We both want the same things out of life.'

‘And what's that?' she couldn't resist asking.

‘To get rich quick and retire young,' he grinned and she laughed with him.

James and Fiona weren't there when they went back inside. Claire felt her face colour with embarrassment.

‘You look worried,' Paul said with a smile. ‘Relax … nothing needs to happen if you don't want it to.'

‘I'm totally out of practice with all this,' she admitted nervously. ‘I split up with my boyfriend not so long ago.'

‘Is it okay if I put this on?' He was holding up a U2 CD.

She nodded. When he sat down, he took her hand loosely in his.

‘Let's just sit here and listen to some music.'

They fell asleep on the couch, lying lengthways, her body moulded against his. It felt nice.

Claire woke, her face jammed into a velvet cushion and her knees cramped from being in the same position for hours. She couldn't speak without eating some of the cushion so she nudged Paul with her elbow to encourage him to move off her.

‘Hey, what was that for?' He flinched when her elbow made contact with his stomach.

‘Sorry, I couldn't breathe,' she said, sitting up, taking huge gulps of air.

Her face felt hot and she was sure her hair was all over the place.

‘Excuse me,' she mumbled, making a quick exit before he had time to see what a mess she was. The damage was worse than she expected. Her mascara was in thick black lumps under her eyes. Even though there was no lipstick remaining on her lips, there was a red smudge on her chin. She carried out some rushed repairs with the sparse cosmetics that were available in the bathroom.

‘Would you like to go somewhere with me today? Maybe a drive down south?' Paul asked when she returned to the living room. He was sitting up, his fair hair ruffled. He had put on his glasses.

‘I'm sorry, I can't,' she apologised as she sat awkwardly on the arm of the couch. ‘I need to finish painting my room – I left it half-finished yesterday.'

‘I'll help you if you promise to go out with me afterwards,' he offered.

‘Do you mean it?'

‘Yes.'

‘Really? Thank you so much! I was dreading starting it again!' She beamed at him and jumped up to show him to the bedroom before he could change his mind.

‘Why did you stop painting right in the middle of the wall? I won't be able to get the line out,' he scolded as he scrutinised her handiwork.

‘I've never painted before – I thought it would be easy,' she replied humbly.

‘Look, why don't you get ready while I finish this off? Do you have an old T-shirt I could wear?'

After Paul had finished painting and done his best to disguise the line, they caught a taxi to his flat. It was in a quiet, tree-lined street in Mosman. While Paul showered and changed she inspected the interior. There were photos of him with various family members scattered around the room. Patio doors led to the terracotta-tiled balcony that had generous plants and a distant view of the city. He shared the unit with James but Claire knew that even between two people the rent would be expensive.

His BMW went well with the classy apartment. She looked out the car window, engrossed in the busy, cosmopolitan suburbs while he concentrated on the traffic.

‘So, are you going to stay here in the Great Southern Land?' he asked when they finally hit the motorway.

‘I'll certainly stay for a few years,' she answered, looking across at him. ‘I would never get the job I have here back in Ireland.'

‘If you're James's boss, what exactly does that make you?'

‘I'm the finance manager. How about you? What do you do?' she asked politely.

‘I'm a sales manager.'

She would not have guessed. He looked like he would be in a more traditional profession, like teaching. He was certainly a far cry from Frank Williams, the sales director at Amtech.

‘I know some people in the sales team in Amtech. I've come across Frank Williams at a few of the industry seminars. Do you have much to do with him at work?'

She was taken aback that he mentioned Frank just as she had been thinking about him. ‘Yes, I know Frank quite well. I wouldn't say we are best of friends, though.'

‘I imagine that he would be hard to handle. All the same, he does seem to be a very smart man and he's impressive when you see him in action.'

‘I'll take your word for it! What company do you work for?'

‘Digicom, a competitor of Amtech.'

‘So that's it! You're trying to extract trade secrets from me!' she teased. ‘I knew you couldn't like me for myself.'

He turned to give her a quick wink. ‘Trade secrets are just one of many attractions.'

The fields were surprisingly green as they blurred past. The motorway had petered out into a narrow single-lane road that wound around the tips and dips of the gentle hills. She hummed along to the radio for a few minutes before he spoke again.

‘Been to Jervis Bay before?'

‘No … I've only been up north. This countryside reminds me of home.'

‘Yeah, Ireland is beautiful. I was there three years ago.'

‘So, you've travelled a bit then?' she probed.

‘I worked for Digicom in California for a few years and used it as an opportunity to see some of Europe.'

They stopped for a late lunch in Huskisson. They ate in the beer garden of the main hotel, facing the blue-green water with its fringe of white sand. The lazy tempo of the jazz band and the wine she had with lunch made her relax in his company. He was interesting and entertaining, and conversation flowed easily. Fiona was her only close friend in Sydney. Her colleagues at work were pleasant but they kept their distance socially. Paul filled a gap she hadn't known existed before this afternoon.

She was so mellow when they began their journey back to Sydney, she drifted off to sleep within minutes. She woke with a start, looking around wildly, trying to get her bearings. Paul seemed amused by her embarrassment.

‘I'm so sorry,' she apologised as she sat up.

‘Don't worry about it. You look cute when you're asleep.'

He pulled up outside the flat.

‘Thanks for a lovely day,' she said.

He leaned over and cupped her face in his hands. She pulled back slightly when he kissed her.

‘I'll call you tomorrow,' he said, his face very close.

‘Okay … bye,' she muttered and stumbled out of the car.

Fiona wasn't home and the empty silence of the flat was what she needed. It was a long time since she had been kissed by someone other than Michael. The kiss had been nice, but it left her feeling vulnerable and a little confused. One thing was sure, though: it was a step in the right direction.

Claire arrived at work feeling unusually happy for a Monday morning. At some stage the previous day she had broken her ties with Michael. The world looked promising and exciting, and she was emotionally free to enjoy it. She worked methodically
through her large pile of admin, for once not minding the monotony.

The day flew by and Claire was winding up when Harry knocked on her door.

‘I'm glad you're still here. I have something I need to talk to you about.'

‘Nothing serious, I hope,' she said, noting that he had closed her door behind him and that his expression looked rather solemn.

‘I've decided to retire. I handed in my notice to Steve today and will be leaving at the end of April,' he said, his face transforming into a broad smile.