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Authors: G E Griffin

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BOOK: The American Lover
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Wrong time, wrong place.

The last impression I wanted to give the London office was that I was some kind of a sleazy man-whore.

 

***

 

Faith looked decidedly out of her comfort zone during the meal that evening.  John and Steve were clearly pulling out all the stops to impress me, but she was saying very little. Just as when we’d been working together during the day, she didn't indulge in idle chatter. But I realized it wasn’t really shyness, more that she was self-contained, just succinctly answering any queries thrown her way.  

John, her immediate boss, was a tall guy, late fifties, gray haired, with a gross beer gut.  He obviously liked his booze, as he ordered several bottles of wine to go with the food, despite having already thrown back several double whiskeys ahead of the meal.  It was clear he made little effort to keep in shape despite having a desk job, and to me, he seemed like a heart attack just waiting to happen.  Chances were he wouldn’t be having a long and happy retirement if he didn't do something about his fitness levels soon.

Seeing him made me thankful I’d gotten my own fitness back on track. Now, I always scheduled workouts as part of my working day and religiously stuck to them, so no one could ever accuse me of being flabby or letting myself go again.
Thanks for that, Cassie.

John’s boss, Steve Maddens, was a much shorter, bald guy, and I decided he was suffering from Napoleon Syndrome.  His need to overcompensate for his lack of stature meant he came over as aggressive and domineering, whereas he probably thought he was being decisive and positive. 

“So come on, you can tell us why you’re really over here, Caleb,” Steve jabbed his fork in my direction as he paused from devouring his steak. “You can't tell me they’d send someone of your level over for a basic number crunching exercise that someone like our Jack here can handle. I don't buy into this ‘back to the floor’ crap.”

He may well have been on the right track with his suspicions, but surely he realized how offensive he was being towards Faith? I glanced over, and saw that giveaway blush stealing up her neck again, as she pretended to be absorbed in cutting up her food.

“I happen to be a firm believer in the ‘back to the floor’ ethos actually, Steve. What better way to find out who’s not pulling their weight in the team?” I looked pointedly at John, as I noticed the merest hint of a smirk cross Faith's face.  At least John had the grace to squirm uncomfortably in his seat.

“I’m sure you’d agree, Caleb, the role of an efficient manager is being able to effectively delegate to the most appropriate member of the team,” he piped up.

“Indeed, John. However, I’d hate to be accused of running a show with too many chiefs and not enough Indians, when employee costs versus productivity and efficiency is analyzed. What’s your opinion, Faith?”

She carefully took a sip from her glass of water before she replied. She’d declined any kind of alcoholic beverage, on the grounds that she’d be driving home afterwards.

“Once all the new systems are up, running and fully integrated, we should start to see some real cost benefits,” she replied, effectively sidestepping any controversy.

“Yes, fair point, but just when the end was in sight for this crucial system integration, which I understand you’ve been working on for months, you had to be reassigned to work with me this week instead, didn't you?” I’d managed to glean the fact that she was the driving force behind this systems overhaul while we’d been working together today. I felt bad that her efficiency was in all probability hastening the closure of the London office, but that was just the way of things.

“Yes, that’s correct,” she confirmed.

“So, if I’ve got this right, despite there being a supposed six strong team headed up by two line managers, only Faith had the expertise to pull together this statutory required information, despite the fact that any delay caused by reassigning her could have significant financial repercussions?” I asked pointedly.

“You can't expect everyone on the team to be an expert in all areas, Caleb, and I don’t anticipate any delay as I’ve made sure we’re actually ahead of schedule with the systems upgrade. So I’m confident that the impact of reassigning Jack…Faith, because she happened to be the team member with the most relevant experience, will be negligible.  It was just unfortunate that Roz D’Souza was taken ill at the last minute, which meant there was not enough time to get the necessary systems clearance authorized for you.  These things happen,” John argued.

“I guess they do. Well, let me just say that if Faith has worked as efficiently on the system upgrades as she has on the specialized reports she pulled up for me today, then I’ll certainly be impressed with
her
achievements.”

Steve and John both glanced at Faith and then at each other. I think they got my message. I’d already worked out that she was the one putting all the work in, but they were the ones expecting to take the glory.

“Yes, of course. Faith has proved she’s on her way to becoming a very valuable team member, which is fantastic when you take into account what she’s been through…” Faith suddenly jumped up from the table, her chair making a horrid scraping sound in her haste.

“If you’ll excuse me, gentlemen, I just need to head to the ladies.” Without bothering to wait for a reply, she walked off.

“Obviously she still has some issues to overcome.” Steve muttered to John.

“Not so much these days. Hopefully she’s coming to terms with things by now - it’s been a couple of years after all,” John sighed.

“What are you talking about?” I queried.

“Didn't Faith tell you? I assumed she’d fill you in.” John looked uncomfortable.

“Fill me in about what?” I demanded.

This is what came of going in unprepared, why I hated being caught out like this.  What the fuck were they talking about?

“Well, you see Faith’s husband was tragically killed in a motorcycle accident on his way to work about two years ago.  Dreadful thing to happen, having the police just turn up on your doorstep with news like that. And naturally, the poor girl has had a very hard time getting through it, and for a while I understand she really struggled to cope at work, even though everyone tried their best to be supportive.  In the end, about a year ago, she requested a transfer to our department, so she could get a fresh start in a new team.  Since then, although I can't fault her work, she still isn’t exactly what you'd call a full-on, rounded team player, as she never really mixes or socializes with the rest of the team.  That’s why I thought it’d be good to include her tonight, to try and bring her out of her shell a bit more.”

Shit
. I’d made several jokes to Faith about her husband. Asking if he minded her being out tonight. Thinking the text I’d seen on her cell while we were at lunch from some guy called Harry was her husband checking up on her. Now I felt like a complete jerk.

We all looked up as Faith returned to the table, carrying her coat that she must have collected on her way back from the restroom.

“It’s been a long day, and I’m really tired, so I'm going to skip dessert and head off home,” she stated. “But thank you for a pleasant evening, and I’ll see you all back at the office tomorrow.”

“Actually, I was about to head off to get some shut eye too - crossing time zones plays havoc with your body clock, ” I stated as I stood up. “But please gentlemen, don't let us stop you from ordering your desserts.  Enjoy the rest of your evening.”

The two men looked surprised, but I didn't give them a chance to respond as I took Faith by the elbow, and guided her out of the restaurant towards the hotel lobby.

“Look, Faith, I’m really sorry if I said anything to upset you today, but I had no idea…You could have said something.” I felt compelled to make amends for my faux pas.

“So I’m assuming they told you about me being the black widow of doom,” she rolled her eyes.

“Yes… no. That is, they told me you lost your husband two years ago.”

“Lost.  Yes, how very careless of me, to
lose
my husband,” she retorted bitterly, then stopped dead in her tracks and sighed. “Sorry. That was uncalled for, when you really have nothing to apologize for. You weren’t to know.”

“I just assumed…You are wearing a wedding ring… I didn't mean to be insensitive.”

“I know. It’s fine. Please don't concern yourself, really. Let’s not talk about this any further, okay?”

As we walked out of the hotel, she saw me looking around, but typically there were no cabs to be seen anywhere.

“Never a cab around when you want one, eh? I’ll just head back in and get the desk clerk to order me a ride,” I said.

“Where are you staying?” she asked.

“The Richmond Hotel.  Maybe I could take the subway…” I considered my options.

“I’ll drop you. It’s on my way,” Faith offered.

“No, I wouldn’t want to put you to any trouble.”

“I told you, it’s on my way. No trouble.  And I promise I'm an okay driver, so unless you really want to offend me, please let me take you back.”

Well, what else could I say under those circumstances?

“Okay, in that case I graciously accept your kind offer.”

 

***

 

I had to scrunch myself up to fit in the front seat of her tiny pale blue Fiat 500. Apparently, it was great for parking in the narrow streets of London.  That’s what she told me when she saw the look on my face as she led me to her car.  Shit, I’d had bigger shoe boxes. Compact didn’t even begin to cover it.

As she weaved in and out of the traffic, effortlessly using the manual gear shift, but driving on the wrong side of the road as far as I was concerned, she suddenly yelled at another car when it cut in front of her.

“Get in the right lane, you stupid bloody arse hole!”

Faith glanced across at me apologetically as she pushed her glasses back up her nose - I’d noticed when she wore them in the office that they seemed rather large for her petite features and kept sliding down. “Oops. Sorry.  Forgot I had company for a minute there.

“And here’s this Yank thinking he had to mind his manners around a shy little English rose like you,” I chuckled.

“I find swearing wonderfully therapeutic sometimes, although I usually only indulge when I’m alone,” she confessed. “Not very lady like I know, so I hope I haven’t shocked you too much.”

“Not at all, I'm not averse to a good bout of cussing myself.” I smiled.

She smiled back, which totally transformed her sad face, so I found myself continuing in the same jocular vein in an effort to keep her smiling.

“You know, it’s a shame I’m not here longer than a week. I could really pimp this ride up for you,” I joked.

“You?” she scoffed.

“Don't let the suit fool you, lady. My brothers and I grew up on a farm and we were messing around with old cars, tractors and bikes practically from the time we could walk.”

She looked at me skeptically.

“Really? Then you’d have got on with my husband, Drew. He was a mechanic, he had his own car repair workshop.” Although she looked sad again, at least she’d relaxed enough to share this little snippet of information with me.

“Must have been hard for you. To have been widowed so young,” I said quietly.

“Yep.” I noticed her hands gripped the wheel a little tighter.

“I still wish you’d put me straight when I cracked those crass jokes.”

“Then you’d have felt awkward and thought I was this weird, sad woman that you had to walk around on egg shells.”

“And I suppose I don't now?” I quipped.  “Listen, Faith, while we’re working together, I'd much prefer it if you set me straight if I act like a jerk again.”

“You didn't act like a jerk, Caleb.  And you can't seriously expect me to tick off one of AWB’s top executives, can you? I do rather value my job, you know.”

I shrugged off the stab of guilt I felt, knowing that she was going to be made redundant in the very near future, telling myself that someone of her ability would easily get a position in another bank.

“A job which I have to say I think you are doing very well, from what I've seen so far. You’ve really impressed me, Faith.”

“Thanks. So, tell me, was Steve right? Is there an ulterior motive for your visit, apart from a bit of number crunching, as he put it?”

Shit
. She wasn’t stupid, she’d smelled a rat too.

“I’m afraid I'm not at liberty to discuss that with you ma’am,” I drawled and winked, trying to deflect her curiosity with an effort at humor as she glanced over. The last thing we needed was everyone jumping ship before all the newly integrated systems were fully up and running.

“Did you seriously just ‘
ma’am
’ me? I’m not the queen you know.”

“Ah, but you Brits like things done properly, don't you? You think we colonials are all crass and uneducated.”

“Yes, but only because you are,” she laughed. “So, you just mentioned family - how many brothers and sisters do you have?”

“Two brothers, Seth and Lucas. No sisters, or sisters-in-law come to that.”

BOOK: The American Lover
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