Prosecco & Paparazzi (The Passport Series Book 1) (10 page)

“Ms. Clarkson would like to see you as soon as possible,” she conveyed, the weird looks not having disappeared.

“Yes, I know. I’ll be on my way as soon as I manage to get myself a little organized.” I took the stack from her hands and placed it all on my desk. It was a large pile, and I thanked the gods for having given me enough to do that I wouldn’t be able to leave my office for weeks.

She was still standing there. “Is there anything else, Evelle?” I asked with an annoyed tone.

“Oh, no! Sorry!”

“Do you know who’s behind all the photographs and magazine articles?”

“I think you should talk to Ms. Clarkson about that,” she said and closed my office door behind her.

I took a quick moment to settle myself. “You knew you’d have to face this, you didn’t do anything wrong. Just be honest,” I whispered. It was my new mantra, replacing my old mantra, “You can do anything you want.”

Smoothing the creases of my black wool Pollini suit, I left the sanctuary of my office and passed Evelle’s desk, where she gave me yet another odd look. As I walked down the hallways of Faith Clarkson & Company, I felt like I was in a nightmare… or a freak show. In addition to the walls blazing with images that I was trying to forget, people poked their heads out from behind doors, and a buzz of chatter followed behind me.

“You can do it, just keep walking…” I muttered under my breath. If this kept up, I was going to need therapy.

Eventually I walked the gauntlet and arrived at the office of Faith Clarkson. I asked one of her secretaries if she was available. “She’s waiting for you!” the bitchy one snapped. I was escorted into the inner sanctum of the company.

“Ah, Charlotte, you’ve made it at last. I hope it wasn’t too treacherous a journey,” she said from behind her large desk, never looking up, continuing to review the document in front of her.

Faith Clarkson, who was reported to be in her late fifties, could pass for a thirty-five-year-old. She had a gorgeous figure, flawless skin, her hair was never out of style or out of place, and she had a wardrobe tailored by the most notable names in the fashion world.

Above all, Faith Clarkson was a vicious businesswoman.

“So, Charlotte, tell me what happened, and I’ll tell you what we’ll do.” She continued to look down and sign a document with a flourish. Only then did she finally look up and gesture toward a hideous chair designed by some Swedish guy, folding her arms in front of her so that her red talons rested on her Burberry-clad biceps.

I sat on the edge of the orange-stained ergonomically-approved chair from the showrooms of Sweden, and, with the remaining shreds of my dignity, I briefly outlined the events of my vacation. I made it as clear as possible that nothing other than the early stages of a friendship had developed. She silently listened while I ended my monologue with a final denial of anything that the paparazzi had reported or inferred from the photographs.

“Let’s be blunt. Not only is Des Bannerman an international celebrity, he’s dating one of the most beautiful women in the world. I believe you met Brynn Roberts! In addition to being very beautiful and a highly successful actress, she’s a Goodwill Ambassador for the United Nations. I knew, of course, that the media had it all wrong!” my employer replied with disdain.

I forced my eyebrows to stay in place and not react to such a cold comment. However, she was oblivious, having swiveled her chair to focus her attention on some distant cloud floating outside her office window. For a minute or two there was silence while I focused on the back of her designer hair and designer chair, hoping that this painful interview would be over soon.

Swiveling around to face me, there was an energy in her eyes that terrified me. “That doesn’t mean we can’t take advantage of your situation. It hasn’t been announced, but it has been a long-term goal to set up a European division of Faith Clarkson. You’ve provided the Golden Ticket. We’ll use your newfound connections to jumpstart the clientele. I’m certain that, with Des Bannerman and Brynn Roberts as our first clients, the office, which will be in London, will be thriving within the year.”

She took in a deep breath as she finished, glory and power glistening in her eyes. Looking at her, I saw what had made her so successful. I dreaded what had to follow.

“Ms. Clarkson, may I ask who authorized the photographs and magazines wallpapering our usually elegant and minimalistic halls?” I asked, feeling anger rise inside me. Of course, I couched the question within the flattering words she’d want to hear.

“I did,” she replied, and apparently that was all the information she felt obliged to give me.

“Why would you suggest such a thing?”

“To make clear to everyone who works here that everything they do, everywhere they go, there’s an opportunity to be taken. You ought to be flattered, Ms. Young.” Her voice was flat, with not so much as a hint of contrition or humanity.

“Well, I’m afraid that I’ll be of no use to you!”

Not listening to what I had to say, she interrupted, “Our people will set up a meeting. You can provide introductions, and I’ll handle the rest.”

“I’m afraid that can’t happen.” I took a deep breath. “There is a bit more to the story.” I then filled her in on the meeting with Daniel LaRivière from Meade, Jameson, and Kelly and the restraining order. As I spoke, I could feel the energy in the room being sucked away. In its place came a coolness that quickly devolved into iciness.

After staring at me with emotionless eyes for a very long minute, she spoke. “Well, Ms. Young, not only have you landed into a bit of trouble for yourself, you’ve made yourself useless in helping us attain clients and connections,” Ms. Clarkson said as she pushed her chair back and stood up.

Calmly, she pushed the chair in and menacingly walked around to the front of her desk until she stood just in front of me.

I held my breath as I waited to be fired.

I was burning with anger. If this was going to be the result of an innocent encounter with Des Bannerman, then he and I would face off in court, even if I had to spend my last penny. Just because he had an uncomfortable moment or two with his girlfriend didn’t entitle him to ruin my career and reputation and make me the laughing stock of New York City. I had visions of Des Bannerman cowering at my anger and of Brynn Roberts looking contrite.

“Ms. Young, can you please come back to the present?” Ms. Clarkson’s voice was filled with impatience.

“I’m sorry, Ms. Clarkson. I understand that this ridiculous situation has affected my reputation and my credibility. It was my hope that people would be able to see this situation for what it is, a mere mortal getting screwed by the gods of celebrity once again,” I stated angrily.

With iciness in her voice, Faith Clarkson responded, “Clearly you weren’t listening, so make sure you are now!” She drew in a deep breath and spoke clearly and concisely. “I don’t know how, but you’ll do all that is necessary to ensure that your complication doesn’t reflect negatively on our company. In two days, I’ll announce the opening of the London office in the fall. Fortunately for you, you have other skills that are quite useful to me. So you’re going to be part of the team developing the London office. You’ll bring your credentials and contacts from Oxford University to the table and make amends. You’ll make this situation beneficial to Faith Clarkson & Company.” She finished, “Dazzle me!”

My head bobbed up and down. While I understood her disappointment and was relieved by the knowledge that I still had a job, I couldn’t see how it was my responsibility to make the London office successful. However, I would keep those thoughts to myself. “If there’s nothing else, I’ll head back to my office and begin working on that right away.” I spoke in a submissive voice, which I hated.

“I think that is most advisable,” she answered. Her tone conveyed that she had tired of me and my problems. With that, I stood up and wiped the perspiration off my hands as I smoothed my skirt and quickly exited her domain.

I hurried back to my desk, walked past Evelle, and closed my office door with the intention of not leaving my office anytime soon. Before losing contact with the outside world, I conference-called my friends. They all had quite a giggle when I told them varying versions of my first day back at work. “It was like walking through the halls of hell! Then, if that weren’t bad enough, I was hauled before Satan. She was greedily rubbing her hands at the thought of all the new clients I could bring her… Lambs to the slaughter was more like it. Then I had to tell her about the restraining order.” True friends that they were, each followed this recounting with soothing words for me and scathing critiques of my employer.

***

As promised, the development of a European branch of Faith Clarkson & Company was all-consuming. Those of us involved gave our lives to it. Some moments were exciting, but most days, I felt like Atlas holding up the sky on my shoulders. One wrong move and it all toppled into one horrific mess.

Using my credentials, a master’s degree in law and finance, I spent copious hours scouring the U.K. to find a team who could meet the needs of Faith Clarkson & Company.

A month later, during one of the weekly meetings, Faith Clarkson declared that I would be joining the European office. No, “How would you like to?” or “Would you be interested in?” Just, “You’re going.” I couldn’t tell if I was being banished, bullied, or praised.

Communication with the world outside of work had almost screeched to a halt, having become limited to cryptic emails. Well, except for my parents, for whom I was able to allocate five minutes, once a week. However, this news was too big to limit to email. So I calendared in time to make phone calls.

I started with Tiziana, and then, after talking with Marian and Kathleen, I put in a call to Hillary.

In any event, they were all happy to hear that I would be closer to them after the move to London. It was only Hillary who brought up the fact that I would be closer to Des.

“Well, what can I do? I either take this opportunity or I look for a new job. I’ll just have to stay out of his way. I can’t believe she actually expects me to go scouting for clients.” I answered her concern with more confidence than I felt. If Faith Clarkson was true to her word, and she very well might be, I could find myself trying to land clients alongside the rest of the employees. Faith Clarkson had no concern for my problems.

“If you like, you can stay with me when you first get to London,” she offered. “I have plenty of room, and it would be great fun to have someone around! I can help you find a place.”

“That would be great, Hillary! I would love that.”

When I mentioned Tiziana wanting all of us to gather more regularly, she said, “Well, with her record and yours, I’m sure we’ll get into mischief whether we like it or not.”

I suggested that we spend the holidays in London.

“That would be fabulous, since I’m not sure I’ve ever done that. We’ve always gone away. My mother finds it such a bother.”

When we ended the call, for the first time in a very long time, some of the knots that riddled my muscles felt like they were working their way loose. While I would be closer to Des, it would be incredible to be closer to my friends. There was the added bonus that I wouldn’t have to see Faith Clarkson on a regular basis.

BETWEEN CARRYING ON
with my regular tasks at work and building the new team, I was swamped. I had been gone so much that my roommate Taylor had to come to my office just to see me.

Plunking down in my guest chair, a cloud of her favorite perfume settling around her, she said, “If I wasn’t so envious of your moving to London, I’d almost care about the way the old battle-axe has been working you. Look at you! You’re skin and bones, and not in the I-want-to-be-America’s-Next-Top-Model-kind of way.”

It was true: over the last three months, I had lost quite a bit of weight, and there were ginormous bags under my eyes. Normally I would have been excited about shedding a few pounds. These days, there was rarely time to sit down and eat. When I did, my stomach couldn’t handle much.

In general, my grooming had hit an all-time low, a very noticeable and not good thing in New York City. I leaned back in my chair and used a couple of pencils to hold back the hair that kept falling into my eyes.

“Well, the good news is that I’ve saved all kinds of money and will be able to afford a fabulous wardrobe in England,” I bragged gently. I knew that Taylor would love to be part of the team moving to London and the new subsidiary.

“What am I going to do without you?”

“Well, on the good news front, I won’t really be moving out for a while, since your mother wants me in both places at the same time for the first few months. The bad news is that you’ll just have to come visit me in London or finally marry Marcus.” I picked up my cup of coffee and took a big gulp.

Sidestepping my last comment, she said, “Is that all you consume these days? You need a break and some decent food. I have a great idea! Easter is just around the corner, and my family is going to the Hamptons. Why don’t you come along? It will be much more fun with you there. My parents are arriving late, leaving early, and the house is big enough you’ll only have to see her at one or two meals.” By the time she took a breath, the tone of her voice had gone from energetic to begging.

I felt deep creases in my forehead where my eyebrows squinched together. I had been to her family events before, and they were just a tad tense. The
only
silver lining, other than Taylor, was that her boyfriend Marcus would be there. He was hilarious, a fact that drove Faith Clarkson to madness. Okay, there was another silver lining.

“You know the only reason you want me to come is that your mother will give Marcus a break and send all her nasty glares my way. No, thanks. I would rather stay home and eat my chocolate bunny all by myself,” I declined ungraciously.

Taylor laughed. “That’s only partly true. However, and this is a great however, Marcus is bringing his friend Liam with him. He’s drop-dead gorgeous and, with all the trauma of the last few months, I thought you might enjoy a harmless weekend of flirting.”