Stay Mad, Sweetheart

by Heleen Kist

  I nodded. ‘And we do.’

  Deep grooves formed on Suki’s brow. ‘Well, you’ve only ever looked at the share structure that had the ordinary shares on it. And there, yes, you both have equal ownership. But you’re wrong overall.’

  I squeezed my armrests, not quite knowing where to set my hands in this enclosed position. Where was this going?

  Suki sighed. ‘Because you’ve never wanted to be a director on the board of the company, you weren’t involved in the decisions that were made on different forms of remuneration. Justin has a boat load of growth options that you don’t.’ She must have recognised my puzzle expression as she went on to explain. ‘An option is when you have the right to buy a share in a company for a discounted price in the future. When an employer gives you options in the company, it’s an incentive to stay and work hard. Because tomorrow, you might be able to use your option, buy shares at, say, ten pence and immediately sell them again for a pound.’

  ‘Making an instant profit.’ This was less complicated than I expected.

  ‘Right. Options are particularly valuable in start-ups. People tend to exercise them — that means to use them — when the company is sold or if it goes public. Now, a growth option, like the ones Justin has, is the same as any other option, except you only get to exercise it when the company’s share price has grown by a predetermined amount. With me?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘In Justin’s case, the company needs to be worth ten times more than when he got the options. I’ve never seen it be that high before. The investors who granted them to Justin at the last investment round must have thought they would never be worth anything. But because of the valuation I’ve managed to get you in the sale to PeopleForce, they’ll actually be worth close to one million dollars.’

  A bubble grew inside my throat, an empty vessel of missing words. My memorised dictionary failed to crystallise my feelings. I swallowed. It hurt. I wrestled free and took a few steps back, rubbing my lips to condition them to adequately express... what? Disbelief? Betrayal? Grief? Anger?

  Suki was quick to jump in. ‘I told Justin it wasn’t fair, that he should tell you.’

  Her voice sounded distant. The surrounding light dimmed. The meeting room was moving away from me, and I was left alone.

  I’d always thought I liked being alone but for the first time, I realised that being alone when I had friends was not actually being alone. I didn’t need to see my friends often, or interact much, to know they were there. And now Emily was dead.

  It had been long clear to me that all this work, the search for the culprits, someone to punish, was my way of keeping her alive. But I was failing. Soon there would be nothing left to cling onto.

  Justin.

  I’d trusted him...

  I felt hollowed out, like my inner life had been ripped away. No longer me.

  ‘Laura? Laura!’ Suki waved her hand inches from my face. ‘I said, what do you want to do?’

  ‘I don’t know.’

  31

  SUKI

  It stayed dry the whole way back to Suki’s office, despite the dark clouds hanging ominously low in the sky.

  She hadn’t wanted to leave Laura, who seemed in shock — more than she’d expected given Laura’s limited interests in the money side. But once that girl went into one of her dwams, with her mind somewhere else, there was no point hanging around.

  Suki’s knee-length skirt stretched over her thigh as she climbed the steps that led to the rear door of the Standard Life headquarters, past which there was a convenient shortcut between busy Lothian Road and the stillness of Rutland Square.

  With her hands full of papers, she used the side of her wrist to press the doorbell. Many of the other buildings in the square had sophisticated intercom and code-entry systems, but the finance houses liked to maintain a sophisticated air of tradition.

  The old-fashioned ding-dong summoned the receptionist, just like it summoned the help when the wealthy merchants lived here.

  The door opened and the young chap greeted her with a smile. Was it Alisdair? Chad?

  ‘Hey Suki. Forgot your key?’

  She was tempted to tell the truth, that she’d been too lazy to look for it with her hands full, but manners required her to lie. Particularly since the temps they’d been getting for the receptionist role didn’t seem to last long. ‘Yes, I’m sorry.’

  ‘No worries,’ he said, his Australian accent making Suki half expect to be handed a beer. ‘Angus was wondering where you were, by the way.’

  Suki lifted her chin towards the rear. ‘Is he in there?’

  ‘Uh-huh. He’s been on the phone all morning.’

  Suki dropped her cargo on her desk and straightened her hair. The cushiony carpet in the corridor to the rear office provided a welcome relief from the outdoor stones she’d been treading for the Empisoft deal. She wouldn’t normally handhold her clients quite so much, but these guys were one seriously inexperienced management team.

  She knocked.

  His gruff voice sounded through the door. ‘In.’

  ‘You were looking for me?’ she asked.

  Angus removed his reading glasses and closed the folder he’d been holding. His rosacea had flared up into a furious red pyramid over his nose and cheeks. Had he been drinking?

  ‘I got a call from Justin Travers last night.’ He let that sentence linger for a while longer before frowning and adding, ‘I’d like to hear your side of the story.’

  Sweat gathered on Suki’s palms; she rubbed her hands. ‘I suppose you’re referring to the conversation I had with him yesterday about the share structure?’

  His arms were crossed. ‘What were you thinking, challenging him on some historical arrangement?’

  ‘Is that what he called it? “Challenging”? I was only pointing out, at a critical time in the company’s existence, that he had reneged on a verbal agreement with his co-founder. It’s not something I wanted to see blow up at the last minute.’

  ‘No, you thought you’d let it blow up now. Did Laura whats-her-name ask you to do this?’ Angus rose from his seat and leaned on the table with both fists.

  ‘No,’ Suki said. ‘But she would’ve found out eventually.’

  ‘Would she? And what was there to find out? That she hasn’t been paying attention for years? That she shouldn’t be signing things blindly? This happened eighteen months ago. It’s completely irrelevant. What we need to focus on is getting this deal with PeopleForce over the line. And the last thing we need is for the Empisoft management team to fall out.’

  He was right. The Americans would run a mile at the merest hint of discord, particularly with rumours intensifying of them courting the competition.

  But it had sat like a brick in her stomach, the inequity, the blatant disregard for who was actually creating the value in the company. And not just at the start, with the product that put them on the map; still today, every day. Laura, with her mind-blowing innovations.

  Suki reflected on the images of Laura’s latest influence model. She wished she’d seen Justin’s node. What colour lines would come out of him?

  There was no question Justin had been essential to the company. Laura would never have pursued the opportunity as relentlessly as he did. It was his charm and salesmanship that got them their initial investment, followed by their first reference client. He was the one who had wooed and hired a superstar sales team — skills that were in short supply in Scotland. Yet without a product there would’ve been nothing to sell. And all the while Laura had beavered away at it, trusting that she would be treated fairly.

  Suki had learnt long ago trust was for losers.

  Angus slapped the table. ‘Hellooo, are you listening?’

  Indignation spewed bile into her mouth. He couldn’t speak to her like that — she wasn’t his daughter.

  She breathed to steady herself. The deal was at risk and she needed to save it. ‘They’ve been friends for years. They must be able to come to an agre
ement. It’s the last chance to do anything before he can cash these growth options in. I think I’ll—’

  ‘Remember who our client is: the Empisoft board. And your little friend isn’t on it. If she’s not on it, she doesn’t count. Are we clear? We are this close to signing a deal that will make us, you and me, an enormous amount of money. I will not have you endanger it with some emotional crusade. I am in two minds whether to take this deal off you.’

  Suki’s whole body stiffened. It was her knowledge of the technology sector that had allowed Madainn to win the pitch to represent Empisoft. It was her Silicon Valley network that had attracted the bidders. It was she who’d managed the auction, manipulating each of the players into bidding more than they had intended to. She wasn’t about to let this stuffy, old-world, out-of-his-depth partner of a medium-rung corporate finance boutique take the credit for her hard work. This was exactly what the Justin and Laura thing was all about.

  But he wouldn’t care about any of that. His firm, his rules. They were here to make money — and, truthfully, she was too. ‘I wouldn’t do that, Angus. I suspect taking me off this deal would spook the Americans even more, don’t you?’

  He humphed. ‘You need to make this go away. Make peace with Justin, because he is asking for your head. Maybe he can give the girl a big bonus or something to even things out a bit. I don’t know what she’s complaining about. She stands to make a life-changing amount of money. Why cause a fuss about a little bit more? Besides, she could walk away the day after, cash in hand. Whereas Justin, being the Key Man as far as PeopleForce are concerned, will need to stay on for two whole years before he gets his full reward.’

  To her annoyance, he was right again. When companies were acquired, it was common for agreements to include conditions that incentivised the most important people to stay on. It would otherwise be too tempting to cash in and ride off into the sunset, leaving the buyers in the lurch. In this case, Justin was the one they wanted to keep, and he would be tied into them for two years before he got his millions. Suki thought back to the red motorcycle he was lusting after — it would be his sneaky growth options that would pay for that. Coupled with his new cushy job in California, there wasn’t much to pity.

  Angus returned to his seat and held his mobile phone with an extended arm; the reading glasses on his nose clearly not doing their job. After a few, slow taps of his index finger, he looked over the lenses at Suki and said, ‘Can I trust we will have no more of this ra-ra equality nonsense and that you will get this fixed?’

  Suki nodded curtly and retreated, a ball of fury in her stomach. This was not over.

  32

  ME

  Atticus tapped his paw against my forehead repeatedly, the blanket over my face protecting me from his claws. It was past dinner time, but I couldn’t face getting up from lying on the sofa. He stomped onto my wool-covered head, over my shoulders, into the well created by my chest, my thighs and the settee’s back rest. His weight pulled the cover firmly over my mouth and nose.

  I flung an arm outward to let in some air. I flinched. My eyes adjusted to the brightness and I wiped the drool from the side of my mouth. I’d hoped to sleep, to shut the world out entirely. All I’d managed was an hour and a half of enclosed, humid breathing.

  I hoisted myself to a sitting position and brought a reluctant Atticus to my chest. I buried my face in his tummy, the soft down helping to avert the tears I desperately wanted to hold in — in case they wouldn’t stop.

  ‘It’s just you and me, buddy.’

  He purred.

  I’d wanted to run home straight after I left Suki in the boardroom but needed to first make sure my rogue software code hadn’t affected anything else on our systems. It had taken until 5PM.

  When Justin had walked past my bank of desks and given me a quick wink, it had taken all my might not to throw my keyboard at him to silence that blinking eye once and for all.

  How could I have been so stupid, to think we were a team of equals? He’d changed over the last few years. The company’s success had gone to his head. Fond memories of late-night scheming filled my mind. We’d been chums at the start, each respecting what the other brought to the party. And we had a good time along the way.

  Had I misread him all along?

  I rubbed my thumb over Atticus’s cheek and he flicked his rough tongue over the palm of my hand. ‘At least with you, I know where I stand.’

  Why had Suki told me about his growth options? Curse her. What game was she playing? I thought of our time spent together, wracking my brain for signals I might have missed of a betrayal that could be around the corner. I couldn’t work it out.

  One thing I knew: Suki was motivated by money. Her excitement when the Network Impact tool worked proved that. It was all to do with the price they could sell the company for. Why bring Justin’s options up when all it could do was cause problems? Could she really care that much about me getting my fair share? Was that what this was?

  Suki’s laughter echoed in my head and raised a cautious smile. You couldn’t fake that laugh. We’d been having fun, hadn’t we? Suki toying with her mother at the restaurant as she placed her hand on mine. Her snicker when her mum had replaced cocktails with beer when our amorous cover had been blown. The way she’d even managed to make a joke of the horrible things some of her colleagues did to her, and her description of how she’d squash them all like bugs when she reached the top.

  The giggles under the umbrella.

  I felt a tug at my heart. I’d only ever giggled like that with Emily before.

  My gaze crossed the room to settle on our childhood photos. Sparkly eyes and gummy mouths against the backdrop of familiarity, love and a carefree, small-town upbringing.

  I clenched my jaw. Had I been a good friend to Emily? I thought I had — had certainly always meant to be. Could my good intentions of fighting Emily to stay off social media and ignore it all have made matters worse? Maybe if I’d been more supportive, more willing to listen rather than lecture... I hoped to God that it wasn’t me who’d made Emily feel alone.

  Like I was feeling.

  Atticus stepped on my bladder and jumped off the sofa towards his water fountain. It was Emily who’d convinced me to get a pet. ‘You can’t live with only fictional beings for company,’ she’d said. ‘Like training wheels on a bike, maybe a cat can help you learn to open up your life to others.’

  When I named the tiny jumble of fur ‘Atticus’, for his role in supporting a social outcast, just like the lawyer, Emily didn’t recognise the literary reference and just shrieked, ‘Atticus the Catticus! I love it.’

  Lost in my memories, I only noticed my phone ringing on its third chime. I wiped the tears sliding along my nose and checked the screen before answering. Trust Mum to call at the right time.

  ‘Darling. How are you?’ she asked.

  Where would I start? ‘I’m... okay.’

  We’d spoken frequently straight after Emily’s death. That had slowed, no doubt caused by my unwillingness — inability? — to talk at any length about my feelings. I didn’t mind the long pauses, the two of us at either end of a line, connected, breathing, alive. How could I explain I only wanted her quiet company?

  Forever trying to fix things, Mum had suggested journaling — what with my love of words and all. But I’d stared at the blank pages of the flowery notebook she’d sent, and it had made me feel worse. Again, a clumsy good intention causing more harm than good. They seemed to be everywhere.

  She tried to coax more out of me. ‘And the big business deal? How is that going?’

  There was little point sharing the ups and downs of something my waitressing mother could never get her head around. ‘That’s going okay, too, Mum. Not long to go.’

  ‘That’s exciting. Well, I have some exciting news, too. Oliver and I are getting married!’

  It was as if the cord had been cut. My head felt light and I clasped the blanket in my spare hand.

  Happy.

&
nbsp; I should be happy.

  Be happy, damnit.

  ‘Wow, Mum. That’s great. Congratulations.’

  ‘We’re going to have it at Drill Hall. It won’t be a big affair. We’re thinking February. There’s something romantic about a winter wedding, don’t you think? I think we’ll have enough saved up. We won’t be able to have much of a honeymoon...’

  Drill Hall, the Peebles community centre? That cold place where I used to go to Cub Scouts? No, that wouldn’t do. Not for Mum. Not if I had anything to say about it. And for once, I did.

  ‘Yes you will. You’re going to have the honeymoon of a lifetime. You’re going to have the wedding of a lifetime, like at Cringletie House or the Hydro. You’ll have the dress of a lifetime. I can pay for it.’

  ‘What? No. How?’

  ‘I insist, Mum. That deal I’ve been telling you about. What I haven’t mentioned, is that it’s going to... it’s going to make me very rich.’

  ‘How rich?’ I knew Mum’s idea of rich didn’t even come close to the eight figures that would soon be landing in my bank account.

  ‘More than rich enough. And I can’t think of anything I would rather do with that money than to make you happy. I mean it.’

  ‘But darling, it’s too much. I mean, a little contribution would help... Don’t feel like you—’

  ‘Please, let me do this.’ I cupped the phone with both hands, holding it close to my cheek. ‘You’ve done so much for me. You’ve worked hard. You’ve made this success happen, too. Go think about your dream wedding and tell me what you need. Anything goes.’

  Mum took quick little breaths. ‘Oh darling, I can’t believe it. Thank you. It’s hugely exciting. I’m going to tell Oliver straight away.’

  ‘You do that,’ I said, as I lost my heart’s last connection.

  33