Monahan 01 Options (29 page)

“I’ll still follow you home. Just to be sure you make it all right,” he told me.

I hurried out of the car and almost tripped as I stumbled over to my car. I yanked open the door and jammed the key in the ignition. The engine coughed a couple of times and then turned over. I put the car in gear and left the parking lot.

I watched Jay’s headlights in the mirror all the way home. Waves of exhaustion continued to pour over me and I thought about all those poor bastards who fall asleep at the wheel. I understand now, I thought.

I saw Jay parked on the street in front of my house when I came around the side and up to the porch. I waved at him as he pulled out and drove off. The tears started again on my way up the stairs.

I dreamt I was back in the desert searching for Evelyn. I couldn’t find her and I remember running around for what seemed like days, searching and searching. I was frantic.

I consciously woke myself up and stared at the clock. Normally, I slept well but since Evelyn had died my sleep had been fitful at best. This has got to stop, I told myself. Grieve for Evelyn and move on. Remember her. Never forget her. The pain would heal over time, I told myself. I tried to recall things I’d heard about the grieving process. Anger. Feelings of loss. Despair. I had never suffered the loss of a friend or a close family member and all of this was new to me.

I was feeling the loss, that was certain. And despair was right up there. I looked at the clock and knew if I didn’t get back to sleep soon, I’d be functioning like a zombie in the morning. I’d have to deal with my anger then.

The alarm went off at five-thirty and I dragged my sorry ass out of bed. I put the coffee on before I showered because I knew I was going to need at least three cups before I hit the road. My head felt thick from lack of sleep and I took two Extra-Strength Tylenol’s to try and clear the fog.

I turned the showerhead to pulse and let the hot water pound at the back of my neck. By the time I had dressed I was feeling a little more human. The air that wafted through my open bedroom window had the smell of spring to it so I put on a light cotton summer dress and said to hell with pantyhose.

I slipped my feet into white, low heeled sandals and practiced my dagger look in the mirror in preparation for the snotty comments I’d get when someone realized I was wearing white shoes before the Victoria Day weekend. No one had ever accused me of being a fashion hound.

I poured myself a coffee and wandered into the living room where I could hear the birds singing. I opened the French doors and breathed in the warm air. I loved this time of the day. No traffic sounds. No sounds from neighbouring houses. No kids screaming outside.

Despite my lack of sleep I was feeling better today. Some of the dreadful weight I’d been feeling in my shoulders that I associated with depression was lifting.

I poured myself a coffee for the road in a plastic mug someone had given me from Tim Horton’s and glanced at the clock. It was almost six and I wondered if it was too early to call Jay and apologize for last night.

I dialled his number and the answering machine picked up right away. It was doubtful that he was on the phone this early so I assumed he had turned on the machine deliberately.

“It’s me,” I said into the machine. “Call me sometime today. I want to apologize for my behaviour last night. Miss you.” I hung up.

I hated talking into machines. I was only good at leaving my name and number.

I thought about my message. Damn it. I didn’t want to apologize, I wanted to explain. I had said sorry so many times lately, I was turning into a wuss. Begging forgiveness was not something I usually did.

I quickly dialled Jay’s number and said into the machine, “Correction Harmon. I don’t want to apologize for last night. But I do want to explain. Please call me.”

chapter thirty-eight

Shit, shit, shit. Let that be a lesson to you Kate, I told myself. Checking your voice messages from home is sometimes not such a bad thing. I checked my watch again and prayed that everyone else would be late.

I had been proud of myself for arriving at the office earlier than everyone else but had panicked when I listened to my messages. Didrickson had ordered me to be at the Four Seasons for seven-thirty to make sure the breakfast and meeting room arrangements were in order.

Those are Vanessa’s responsibilities, I thought as I flagged a cab in front of the building. Everything’ll be in perfect order but Harold obviously needs me to hold his hand. As Corporate Secretary of the company he took his duties seriously. He at least wanted the meetings to look organized even though they typically fell apart as soon as Oakes took center stage.

The meeting area on the top floor of the Four Seasons was empty except for a busboy laying out the food and a person who was obviously the floor captain. I introduced myself and checked out the arrangements.

Several small, round tables with fresh, white linens draped over them were placed around the room and I saw a separate table against one wall with a fax and small photocopier on it. The breakfast buffet was laden with fresh fruit, muffins, croissants, cereals, yogurt, coffee, tea and juices. I asked the busboy to bring in several Diet Cokes for Larry Everly who always made a point of letting everyone know he didn’t poison his body with caffeine and refused to drink coffee or tea. He obviously had never checked the label on the Diet Coke. He could swallow about five or six cans before coffee break.

I pulled open the heavy double doors that led into the meeting room and wasn’t surprised to see the room in perfect order. Each place setting had a fresh pad of paper on the blotter, pencils, pens, and a carafe of water. There was a projector on a mobile cart in the middle of the room hooked up to the laptop on the podium.

Samuel Welch and Arthur Graves were piling their plates with food at the breakfast buffet when I pushed open the doors back into the ante room. I didn’t need to check my watch to know that it must be exactly seven-thirty. The agenda that went out noted that breakfast would be served at seven-thirty and the meeting would start at eight. You could always count on Sam and Arthur to be on time, especially where food was concerned.

“Gentleman,” I greeted them. “Welcome.”

They both offered me big smiles, and Sam put his plate down and gave me a big hug. Some people would consider a hug not very professional and certain huggee’s would probably scream about sexual harassment, but Sam was a true gentleman and I considered him a friend. Arthur and I shook hands.

Both men were the longest-standing directors on our board. Sam had been a senior vice president at the brokerage firm that were the underwriters of TechniGroup’s initial public offering years ago. It was a tradition back then to appoint a representative of the underwriters to sit on the board. Sam had retired after a big shake-up at the brokerage firm but he kept active by being a member on the boards of directors of many companies. He was the current chairman of our compensation committee. Sam’s hair was pure white and I couldn’t help but notice how much older he was looking these days. He was sixty-nine years old and certainly looking his age today. His light gray suit hung well on his square body and I noticed that his tie, the handkerchief in his breast pocket and his suspenders were a matching set, all brightly coloured in a red and blue paisley. I wondered what he looked like on the golf course where he probably wore matching shorts and T-shirts, like a little boy.

Arthur and Sam sat at one of the small tables, and Sam pulled out his Globe & Mail before digging into his breakfast. I stood beside the buffet and smiled at Arthur who was delicately buttering a muffin. Arthur was a classically handsome man who got better looking with age. He looked about twenty years younger than Sam but was in fact only ten. Arthur’s hair was a dark brown with not a speck of gray and I often wondered if he coloured it.

Arthur had oodles of money and his occupation in our shareholders’ proxy and annual report was listed as “private investor”. He had loaned mega dollars to the original founder of the company almost ten years ago and had been a member of the board since then. I think he was bored with our company now and most times his boredom showed when he would nap during the meetings. Arthur was a quiet man and I was sure Chris Oakes’ bluff and bluster turned him off. With the exception of Larry Everly, Arthur was the one director of our company who directly held the most shares. Amongst all the other shareholders of our company, Arthur probably held close to one percent of the issued and outstanding. Very wealthy.

Vanessa’s voice came to me from the hallway and I gulped down the cold coffee in the bottom of the cup I was holding and headed for the door to meet her. She came barrelling through the door at a fast clip speaking into her cell phone. I wondered how she did that. Talking on the phone was definitely a sit-down affair for me. If I stood while I was on the phone, I didn’t move. But then again, I had trouble walking and chewing gum at the same time. She took the phone away from her ear and flicked the off button with her long thumbnail.

It was quarter to eight and I was amazed at the energy she was throwing off. Vanessa was a hyperactive adult and she was constantly on the go. I could see that today would be no exception. I peered at her, looking for traces of a hangover. She looked yummy in a short-skirted lavender suit with a white lace teddy showing discretely at the top of the buttoned jacket. Her high heels were the exact colour of the suit and I immediately felt like a frump when I looked down at my low heeled sandals and cotton dress. Her hair was perfect as usual and I congratulated myself for not having a jealous bone in my body.

“Vee, you’re embarrassing me. You look like you’re dressed to go gardening. You should have called me. I could have dug something out of my closet for you,” I teased her.

“Shut up,” she shot back. She looked down at my sandals. “How many times have I told you that you don’t wear white shoes before Victoria Day?”

“I heard on Oprah the other day that it’s now acceptable to wear white all year long,” I lied.

“Not in my lifetime,” she said.

She glanced at the double doors to the meeting room and back at Arthur and Sam. “Anyone besides Frick and Frack here yet?” she asked.

I shook my head and heard voices in the hall. I grabbed her by the arm and led her over to “our table” before the other directors piled in. I’d greet each one on my terms, not like a servant standing at the door. I was glad it was spring because they wouldn’t be handing me their overcoats when they arrived.

I told Vanessa to empty her briefcase. If she had anything for me to distribute to the directors, I wanted it now. While she fumbled around I noticed that Bill Frankford, Whit Williams and Neil Adam had arrived. There was some serious macho back slapping going on and several guffaws. I saw Neil Adam look my way and I busied myself with nothing.

“Katie, Katie,” he bellowed. I gritted my teeth. The man was becoming far too familiar and I was sick of him already. Neil was the ex-Liberal Premier of one of the Atlantic provinces and still acted like he was on the campaign trail. He was a snake and because of him I had stopped voting.

He lumbered across the room with his hand outstretched. I steeled myself and felt a unpleasant shiver go up my back.

“Mr. Adam,” I said and held out my hand. He grabbed it and pulled me close. He caressed my arm with his free hand and it brushed against my breast. Pig. I looked up at his little eyes set in his fat, sweaty face and felt my stomach turn.

“Katie, Katie, how many times do I have to tell you? We’re like family. Call me Neil.” I pulled my hand out of his and took a step back. His aftershave was overpowering and I knew that within the hour he’d smell sour from sweat. Neil was huge and his weight had billowed to about three hundred pounds after he lost his home riding in the last provincial election. No doubt about it, the man repulsed me. I gave him a weak smile and saw him eyeing Vanessa, who was bent over the fax machine and giving the world a beautiful view of her rear end. Neil had already forgotten about me and was on his way to rub her tits.

“Get a haircut,” I told him and he touched the back of his head. I laughed to myself and checked his rear view to see if there were staples holding his pants together today.

Bill Frankford and Whit Williams were standing by one of the windows with coffee cups in their hands. They were in a deep conversation and I didn’t interrupt them. Larry Everly and Chris Oakes were missing and would probably be late. The only time Chris showed up on time was when we were out of town for a meeting and he was staying in the same hotel where the meetings were held.

Harold had arrived unnoticed and was sitting with Arthur and Sam. Sam’s nose was buried in his newspaper, and Arthur and Harold were laughing. It was a rare sight to see Harold in a good mood and I sidled up to the table and waited for a break in the conversation. Harold finally stopped talking and looked up at me.

“Need anything?” I asked him. He shook his head sharply, dismissing me, and continued talking to Arthur. The urge to curtsy came over me but I got him another coffee instead. I placed it very gently in front of him and beamed. He ignored me and I tired of the game.

I eased myself into a corner and enjoyed the view out the windows. I would play invisible now until someone had a mundane request.

“Over there,” I heard someone say. “By the window.” Let the games begin, I thought to myself. Someone must need their nose wiped or their wife called. I turned around and saw Detective Leech heading my way.