‘You said you wouldn’t break up with him before the wedding! He’s a lovely guy but if you don’t make an effort he might lose interest in you.’
Oh no, I need to be careful here.
‘We’re fine, I promise. And Cary wouldn’t have committed to being an usher if he thought we weren’t still going to be seeing each other. All I’m saying is that we’re taking it slowly. Don’t forget that we only get to see each other every couple of weeks because of our respective commitments.’
She sighs, sounding a little exasperated.
‘And that’s such a pity. When will you be seeing him next?’
‘Ten days. Easter Monday, at a family dinner hosted by Cressida.’
She tuts. ‘Now a good sibling would have wheedled an invite for her little sister to meet the wonderful lady in person. But as you aren’t engaged or anything yet, I guess there’s no point in even asking.’
‘No.’
‘Oh, well. I will leave you to get on with your work, then. I blame Jeff, of course. If he hadn’t decided to swan off around the world you might have had some free time to have a little fun. Then things might have developed much more quickly.’
I find myself gritting my teeth at Beth’s pointed comments. As usual, it’s all about her disappointment that the timeframe for my new relationship doesn’t quite fit in with her plans. And I was seriously considering letting her in on the secret! But this is about giving Mum and Dad a break from worrying about me. I have my doubts Beth would be capable of keeping it quiet, anyway.
I just hope we can all get through this event with no major upsets and then, hopefully, normality will reign once more. Then, Cary and I will be able to part company amicably, having survived our respective nightmarish situations. It will be a huge relief, that’s for sure. Well, not the parting bit, as I’m going to miss having him to turn to – he’s grown on me in a way I never expected. Hand on heart, at times I sort of wish this was real, but he made his position clear from the start. We both did. I just didn’t think I’d change my mind about anything, but then I didn’t really understand him in the very beginning.
‘I really must go. I’m tired and I have an important email to finish before I can even think of jumping into the shower. I’ll text that number across shortly, promise.’
*
I’m out of the shower, towel-drying my hair, when my phone begins to vibrate. Snatching it up and wondering what on earth Beth wants now, I see that it’s Cary’s name on the display.
‘Hi Cary. How are you?’
‘Good, thanks. I’m not sure if this is a silly question but Beth rang to put me in touch with the best man, Greg. She asked if aside from acting as the usher for the groom’s side of the family at the church, whether I could take control of the men’s buttonholes.’
I start chuckling. ‘A single flower with a bit of greenery that’s worn on the lapel of the jacket.’
He grunts. ‘I know what a buttonhole is, but do I have to go somewhere and order them? And how do I know what to get? She didn’t mention any particular colour.’
‘Ha! Ha! Sorry, I know it’s not funny and I do appreciate you not throwing up your hands, saying “enough already”. The florist will deliver them to the church. Your job will be to ensure the guys do wear them. Men don’t seem to appreciate it’s important for the photographs. Each flower comes complete with a large pin, so it’s easy.’
I hear a rather relieved sounding ‘Ah.’
‘Yes, well, they sometimes take a bit of convincing, believe me. Your task is to be dogged in your determination.’
He laughs, softly.
‘I haven’t been to that many weddings and I can’t say I ever really took much notice. At first, I thought she was making a joke as it sounds rather weird, like performing some sort of inspection. Then I twigged and panicked, as I wondered if she meant I was supposed to source them and make sure they arrived on the day. I mean, that could mess everything up, couldn’t it?’
‘It most certainly could. We’re talking Bridezilla here and she won’t miss one little detail if something is out of place. Now I wouldn’t give a damn, personally. I think it’s all a bit of a chore to be honest.’
‘I thought most girls grew up dreaming about being a bride?’
‘Nope. That’s a fallacy perpetrated by the companies who profit from the small percentage of people who can afford to throw away a huge amount of money on a wedding. Putting it into perspective it’s just one day, after all. A wedding dress doesn’t have to cost fifteen grand, but it can, and more. Beth can’t afford to be that crazy, but the costs are mounting up. I don’t know why they don’t just disappear for a few days and come back when the deed is done, throw a party and everyone is happy.’
I pop Cary on speaker phone, so I can detangle my hair before it gets too dry.
‘It sounds like the perfect stress-free solution to me.’ He sounds amused.
‘Actually, I’ve been meaning to call you to say thanks for making our little get-together last week with the happy couple go so smoothly. You succeeded in charming Beth, as I knew you would.’
I continue to tug at a knot that refuses to be teased out.
‘My pleasure. Definitely less stressful than what I put you through with Harry.’ His voice hardened the moment he mentioned that name as if he was gritting his teeth.
‘Problems?’
I stop fussing with my hair and instead wrap the damp towel around it, as this might command my full attention. I perch on the edge of the bath.
‘Harry is making a bit of noise at the moment, trying to imply that I don’t always stick to the rules. You were right, he was questioning you. He did some digging and discovered that when I commissioned you to produce the video I didn’t follow standard procedure. Normally, before a contract is agreed we obtain three quotes to benchmark the going rate for the job. That doesn’t mean we necessarily go with the cheapest every time, but it’s a part of our financial regime. Obviously, one-offs like the video tend to fall outside our usual purchasing protocols. That’s more pertinent to big money contracts to replace or maintain the computers for instance. Anyway, there wasn’t time to talk to three different providers and you met the two main requirements. You had a track record and could show relevant examples of your work. Plus, you could meet the very unrealistic timeframe, considering we were expecting you to drop everything and head off to Australia at short notice.’
He pauses and I wait for the but.
‘But in this case Harry is being vocal because of my relationship with you. He’s implying I should have declared a potential conflict of interest with Edward, as the Chief Financial Officer.’
I swear under my breath. ‘That’s pathetic. I told him we didn’t know each other beforehand. He did try to dispute that fact, as he said I looked familiar to him. I told him I’d called to the offices when you interviewed me. He probably saw me then but that was the first time you and I had ever crossed paths, which is true.’
I don’t see a problem there; it’s easily explainable and hardly huge money.
‘As an isolated incident it’s meaningless, petty even. But it comes on the back of a major disagreement at board level. We failed to hit the three-month sales target for the new product by a whopping 38 per cent. We’ll barely break even and that’s a red flag. So, all he needs now is one more vote to gain the majority and we reposition the product in the marketplace.’
I’m confused. ‘Which means?’
‘We switch from targeting the small domestic market and upscale the product, and the price, to make inroads into the commercial property market. The target would be medium-sized businesses and organisations.’
He sounds deflated.
‘Can’t you do both?’
Cary draws in a deep breath and he sounds worn out.
‘It’s not that simple. It’s a bit like getting in a small, local company who are geared up to handle redecorating the average three bed house. Two men, possibly, and let’s say two week
s top to bottom and they move on to the next job; that can be replicated with as many teams as you have. When you consider working on a medium-sized office block, everything changes. The amount of men you need, the volume of materials and even the problem of guesstimating timescales. There are a number of different issues that don’t arise in the domestic environment. Maybe some of the work will have to be done at evenings and weekends because of the noise generated, for example.
‘We’re almost at the cut-off point beyond which it will be too late to change the strategy without incurring substantial additional costs if we change the model. It’s a production problem really. Volume, which reduces the cost price of each standard unit, versus a more bespoke, and therefore more costly, system. But businesses will naturally be attracted because of the increased gains on offer.
‘There was a sound financial reason for not going for that market to begin with, as it requires further capital investment. That’s stage two in the plan but first we need to recoup some of our initial investment. We’re already working on the prototype for commercial operations and we’re way ahead of the game. But it’s always all about cash flow no matter how large a company is.’
I feel depressed on his behalf.
‘Harry is simply grasping at anything he can to undermine you, then. You said one more vote, does that mean if he obtains that then you’re out and he’s in?’
‘Well, no. He broke the news yesterday that he’s taking early retirement in eighteen months’ time and everyone was shocked. He’s proposing that his niece replace him.’
‘What? And he had the gall to accuse you of impropriety over a relatively small invoice? She’ll be his puppet, surely?’
‘No. Her credentials are impeccable, and she’s learnt from the best. But she will come armed with every little bit of dirt and leverage Harry has been able to glean in his time with the company. He wants me gone, because this is personal. He felt I snatched the CEO job out from under him, but when you tread on people to get where you want to be sometimes it’s payback time. And that’s what happened. I won our little battle by a big majority and he will never forget that.’
‘You replace one enemy with another if she replaces him, then?’
He says nothing, and I know it’s because he feels the end is in sight. It’s hard to believe and it makes me realise that even though I lie awake at night going over figures in my head, my problems are at least under my control.
‘I wish there was some way in which I could help, Cary. Sometimes it’s comforting just having someone there who understands, isn’t it? I know at Christmas when you came to rescue me, you took charge and that was precisely what I needed to get me through that night. Do you want me to jump in the car and drive up? It’s, what, three hours? At this time of the day the traffic is less congested.’
There’s a moment’s silence before he responds.
‘Hey, I’m fine. I didn’t mean to worry you. I’m big enough to fight my own battles, although I really do appreciate the offer. And thanks for clearing up the buttonhole thing. Oh, I’d better check that you’re still on for Easter Monday? Grandma mentions you every time we speak and always sends her love.’
‘Of course. I’m looking forward to it. Take care, Cary.’
It’s weird flitting in and out of each other’s lives like this and I find it difficult to switch off from our conversation. Everything he’s worked for is on the line and I sort of know how that feels. But who will be there beside him to help pick up the pieces if it does fall apart? He’ll no doubt give the outward impression that he’s coping as he won’t want to burden Cressida or the family. That doesn’t bode well, and I have no idea if when that time comes I will still be involved in any way. Cressida is right to be worried about him, because I am, too.
Darn it Cary, I don’t need this sort of complication and it’s definitely not in our contract. I refuse to waste my time worrying over a man who continues to ignore the warning signs. Why hang on to the bitter end when it’s clear you are fighting a losing battle?
I’m suddenly feeling irrationally angry at his blind stubbornness. Is it because in his time of need it would have been nice if he chose to reach out to me? It strikes me that he purposely pushes people away when he’s feeling particularly vulnerable, the times when other people look for comfort. That’s not a demonstration of his strength, but his weakness. I shake my head, sadly. Why make yourself unlovable, Cary, when there’s an infinitely loveable man within?
24
It’s Not What They Say, It’s What They Do
The day before the Easter holidays is a busy one. Zack is archiving files and streamlining our online system. It should make life a lot easier because the original set-up was never planned, as such, it simply developed organically. There never was time to step back and consider the future needs of the business.
In between backing up the old system ready for the changeover in case anything went wrong, Zack and I had a lot of back and forth on the phone. He discovered a mass of folders that seemed to contain backups of backups. Well, that was Jeff and I will admit there’s a lot to be said for someone who doesn’t believe in taking risks. I laugh to myself; his lifestyle now is one big risk. Anything could happen, but I know he’s never felt more alive, or happier than he does now. Maybe stepping outside your comfort zone for the first time is an eye-opener and you begin to question everything you once took for granted.
It’s early evening before I realise I haven’t spoken to Tim at all today, which is unusual, so I pick up the phone and call him.
‘Hey, Tim, just calling to say I hope you have a lovely Easter.’
‘Oh, um, thanks, Leesa.’
I lie back on the sofa, letting my body relax for the first time since I hopped out of bed at six this morning. ‘It’s been a bit of a nightmare day with these system changes, but—’
The doorbell chimes and I reluctantly ease myself back up into a standing position. I wonder who on earth it can be, as I’m not expecting company. I nestle the phone between my chin and my shoulder.
‘Sorry, Tim, I just need to answer the d—’ As I swing it open Tim is standing in front of me with a big bunch of roses and gypsophila in his hands.
I open my mouth to speak when he makes a face. It’s a cross between the guilt of being caught out doing something you shouldn’t do and wishing the ground would swallow you up whole. I stand here gazing at him and trying to comprehend what’s going on.
‘Flowers?’ I ask when I finally find my voice. ‘Are they for me?’
He nods, and I usher him inside.
‘That’s a kind gesture.’
He stands there, awkwardly gazing around and I indicate for him to walk through into the sitting room.
‘Tea, coffee?’
‘No thanks, I can’t stay. I’m on my way to meet up with some friends. I wasn’t intending to knock on your door. I was going to leave them on the doorstep and then send you a text, when you rang. Now I’m standing here in front of you I just feel like a bit of an idiot.’
Oh dear.
Tim hands them to me and I reward him with an acknowledging smile, but inwardly I’m exasperated. If I were a man he wouldn’t be standing here giving me flowers, would he? I know I’m being way too nice, but stamping on someone’s feelings – whether it’s a gesture of thanks, or something else – is a difficult thing for me to do. This isn’t appropriate and I can see he’s now feeling extremely awkward about it. I take them from him, laying the bouquet down on the side table without so much as a glance.
‘Well, it’s very kind of you, thanks, Tim. How’s George? Would you like to sit down for a few minutes?’
‘He’s good, thank you and no, I’d best get off. I was just wondering if you, um, had any free time over Easter to go for a drink? Or a meal if you like… to show my appreciation.’
Appreciation? Heck. Just when I was hoping the awkwardness of this moment might have taught him something, he doesn’t back off.
‘Actually,
I’m heading off to spend some time with my parents before meeting up with my friend… umm… boyfriend, on Monday.’ I labour the word to get the message across.
He shifts his weight from his left leg onto his right and then back again. If I’d left the front door open I swear he’d be running through it as we speak. He looks terrified.
‘Oh, right. Anyway, must go. I hope you get to have some fun. Life can’t be all work, can it?’
We exchange eye contact and as I try to read his face I note the slight flush. I lower my gaze, noticing the anxious way he draws the palms of his hands down over the side seams of his jeans. Now he’s worried that he’s overstepped the mark, so I give him a bright and reassuring smile. Or is that the wrong thing to do? Oh, hell!
‘Well, have a great time, Tim, and thank you for the very kind thought. Let’s hope the sun decides to grace this bank holiday so we can all have a little fun.’
I close the door and spin around, my body sagging as I lean against it. Poor Tim, that took a lot of courage. I only hope I was convincing in my attempt to make light of it so he can save face. I don’t want to lose him, that’s for sure, because he’s a valued employee now and I’d hate for this to affect our working relationship going forward. What was he thinking, though?
*
Most of the weekend is taken up with family time. Mum insists on getting us all together for a meal, so I stay overnight at their house to help with the preparations. Beth and Will join us on Easter Sunday and after a leisurely lunch we head out for a long walk. It actually turns out to be rather relaxing after the frenetic activity of the last couple of months.
Reference is made to the fact that it’s a shame Cary couldn’t join us, but I simply nod and agree. Mainly, it’s endless conversations concerning things like how many tiers there should be on the wedding cake. The upside is that I no longer feel that I’m the focus of attention that I was previously with all of the angst over the divorce and, well, other things that we all avoid talking about. But at least I feel at ease.
There’s even time to relax and curl up with my Kindle. I’m reading Cressida’s latest release. It has much more of a contemporary feel to it than most of her books that I’ve read in the past, and the style of the cover is very trendy. Out of curiosity I Google her author page on Amazon and am quite surprised to see that all of her titles have been rebranded.
Magic Under the Mistletoe Page 24
