by Louise Bay
My insides curled up and turned inside-out. I hated to hear about Nathan being unhappy, even if I’d seen it for myself.
“I’ve spoken to Carole about it,” Audrey said. “She’s noticed it too, which I knew she would have. He’s just so changed.”
All the people he cared about had been worrying about him, and here I was pouring salt into his wounds. “God and I’ve just made everything worse.”
“No,” she said, scooting forward and patting me on the knee. “I don’t think you have at all. I know Nathan won’t have liked what you wrote, but he’ll come around,” she said confidently. He might get to a point where he didn’t hate me, but there was no way we could ever get back what we’d had. Audrey wasn’t to know the lines we’d crossed. The more we’d had in reach before I ruined everything. “He’ll come to realize that what you did wasn’t out of malice, but because you cared. You saw the real Nathan beneath the suit, the power, and the money. You held up a mirror. You told him the truth.”
“I’m not sure my motives were that pure,” I confessed. “Yes, I told the truth, but I didn’t think much beyond that. I knew what he wants most of all is to hold on to Astro, but all the press since my profile was published has been parsing rumors about his successor. I knew my article would probably cost him his dream.” My voice crawled higher and higher. “The board is going to fire him and it’s going to be all my fault.”
I picked up my teacup and took a sip to stop the tears from flowing.
“Sometimes what we want isn’t necessarily what we need,” Audrey said, her voice smooth and reassuring. “And don’t underestimate yourself. Most people wouldn’t have seen Nathan like you did. You might not realize how deeply you feel, but it was clear to me as someone who’s known him a long time, that you saw his core—his soul and his goodness. You simply said what everyone who loves him has wanted to say to him for a long time. We just . . . haven’t had the courage.”
Everyone who loves him? What did that say about me?
“I do care about him,” I said, my voice a little wobbly. I hadn’t realized quite how much I cared until I was faced with the prospect of him cutting me out of his life for good.
“Yes,” she said. “From what I can see, you both care for each other a great deal. And whatever happens, I really want you to write my story. I know you have a job and everything, but I trust you. Talking to you about things wouldn’t feel so daunting. Will you just think about it?”
“I don’t need to think about it,” I said. Even though I’d spent my entire life wanting to work for the Post, I was discovering that perhaps the role of intrepid reporter didn’t quite fit me as well as I thought it would. I knew I should have felt elated when Bernie offered me a permanent job, and the fact that I hadn’t said far more than I’d admitted to myself. Spending time with Nathan for his profile had shown me that I loved to dive deep—get in the weeds, as Nathan would say. Poncho reviews and kissing tips weren’t the entire problem with my job at Rallegra, where my work lacked depth in more than subject matter. Things just got worse at the Post in some ways, since I had even less time to focus on any one thing. Between deadlines and back-stabbing colleagues, I wasn’t sure I’d ever have a chance to write the way I wanted to.
But Audrey’s story would allow me to really immerse myself in someone else’s world. The prospect made my stomach flip in anticipation the way it should have done when Bernie offered me a desk at the paper.
“I’d love to write your story,” I said.
Her face lit up and she placed her cup and saucer down before launching herself at me and pulling me into a hug. “Really?”
“There’s no guarantee the publisher will want me on board,” I warned her.
“Well then I won’t sign with them.”
Relief spread warmth through my whole body. The idea of being my own boss and being able to dedicate my time to a project like Audrey’s felt like pulling on a favorite pair of pajamas. It just felt right. Audrey was about to face a horrendous ordeal—trial by the media. I’d follow her through that process, document that along with the story of her life with Mark. I would show the world that it was entirely possible for a criminal like Mark to take in more than just strangers with money. My mind was already racing with a list of topics I’d have to research—everything from the history of Ponzi schemes to the profiles of financial criminals. More than something I wanted to do, this book was something I had to do.
Today was a turning point in Madison Shore history. I was about to decline a job I’d always wanted. I'd realized I was very much in love with a man I’d managed to turn against me. I’d decided to embark on a new path, different from anything I could have anticipated before attending Truly’s wedding.
If life could change so quickly, I had to hold on to hope that it would change again.
Twenty-Eight
Nathan
The thing about having four brothers was that it was almost impossible to have a conversation with your parents on your own. I put the car into park in front of my parents’ house and waved back at Jacob, who looked like he was headed toward the office. What was he doing here?
“Didn’t expect to see you here,” I said as I slammed the car door shut behind me. Was that a screwdriver in his hand?
“I’m a consultant now, which means I actually get time off. Mum needed some help in the office. What’s your excuse for being here on a random Wednesday?”
“I needed to talk to them about some stuff that’s going to hit the papers in the next few weeks.” Eventually, I had to break it to my parents that Mark was going to get arrested. I wanted them to hear it from me. They’d take it hard and I wanted them to have time to get used to the idea before it was splashed all over the news.
But I didn’t need to do that today. It would have waited. The truth was, I’d come to escape. In all the ups and downs in my life, my parents had remained steadfast; that’s what I craved at the moment.
“Sounds interesting,” he replied. “More interesting than that article Madison wrote about you.” He rolled his eyes.
“Yeah,” I responded. “I wasn’t very happy about it.”
“You weren’t?” he asked. “I can’t see how she could have been any more complimentary.”
I looked at him to check I hadn’t imagined what he was saying. “Did we read the same article?”
“Yes, all about how you weren’t like the mere mortal businessmen normally in the City? Come and help me with these shelves in the office for Mum, will you?”
Jacob was losing it.
“Yeah, we read two different articles,” I replied as we headed down the path. “The one she actually wrote basically said that I wasn’t up to the job.”
Jacob laughed. “You are such an egomaniac. I read the same bloody article as you did. She said you didn’t want the job. That’s two different things.”
“She got it wrong. It’s not a bad thing to be involved in the detail. How she can decide what’s best for an insurance company, I have no idea. Bloody journalists.” It still poked at my guts the way I thought that Madison knew me. I’d gotten it so very wrong.
“Jesus, mate. You are totally missing the point. She said in the article that you want to know the detail, talk about products, focus on the customer. Her point was that’s not the job. In fact, her exact words were, ‘Cove believes the classic theory that focusing on employees, customers, and profits is what business is all about.”
Bloody doctors. Years of studying meant that they never forgot anything they read. No normal person would be able to quote an article they’d only ever read once.
“Exactly,” I said as we pushed through the office door and into the bedroom where Madison and I had spent the night together.
Maybe I was imagining it, but I swore I could still smell the orange blossom in the air. I couldn’t believe what had happened here between us had meant so little to her. I could have gotten over her mother being the woman who put Audrey and me in her gossip column. By th
e next morning, if she had turned up with breakfast and a smile, I’d have never thought about it again. She wasn’t her mother, after all. And she was right—she couldn’t have told me as soon as she turned up at Astro with Gretel. I would have thrown her out of my office.
But then seeing what she’d written about me, even though she knew how much Astro meant to me. I had to blank it out of my mind or I’d drive myself crazy.
“Are you even listening?” Jacob handed me a screwdriver. “I’ll hold this and you screw it in,” he said, holding up a long wooden bracket.
“I am listening. I know what she was saying. I don’t need to hear it from you.”
“Well, I think you do. She basically said you’re better than everyone else—like morally or something—because you’re looking after the best interests of the customers and employees.”
That’s not what she’d said. She’d said I wasn’t up to the job, plain as day. But there was no point in arguing with Jacob.
“She basically accused all other CEOs of focusing on their survival. You’re the only one who does the job they’re meant to.”
“Honestly, Jacob, I think you must have banged your head while you were putting up these shelves. Where did she say that?”
“Get it up on your phone,” he instructed, pulling the bracket from the wall. I scowled at him, and he pulled his phone out of his pocket. He swiped and tapped and then started to read.
“‘Cove doesn’t realize that the first rule of business is survival, so while other FTSE bosses are wining and dining the City, he sits in his office poring over algorithms. He’s doggedly determined to stay at Astro but doesn’t understand that he’s no longer the game master. The fundamental rules of the game have changed.’”
My jaw clenched as Jacob read out the words like specials on a restaurant menu the way we did at family dinners because Mum always forgot her glasses. I didn’t need to be reminded.
“Exactly. She thinks I don’t understand business.” Slightly ironic coming from a journalist, but I guess that’s what I get for agreeing to such a stupid idea as having the Post follow me around.
“Not business,” Jacob said. “The politics of business.”
“A distinction without a difference.”
“You’re acting like it’s a takedown but it’s really not. It says lots of nice things but concludes that you’re in the wrong job—”
I guffawed. “Exactly. It’s a job I’ve been doing nearly ten years. I built the company from scratch and now it’s one of the most successful insurance companies in the whole of Europe. She had the nerve to call me naïve.” How dare she. She knew nothing about my business.
“But not in a bad way.” He scrolled through the article. He didn’t need to. I had most of it committed to memory. “Here—she says you’re charmingly naïve.”
“Oh, well that’s alright then,” I replied. “Are we going to do this bloody shelf or what?”
Ignoring me, he continued to read out snippets of the article. “‘Smart CEOs are master manipulators of profits and investments. Everything presents well; their job is to sell the image as much as the product. That’s the game. That’s survival. But that’s not how Nathan Cove comes to play.’”
“Right,” I said. “There it is. She says I’m not a smart CEO.”
“She says you’re not a manipulator of profits and investments. That’s a compliment, Nathan.”
“It’s not one I want. She knew the entire point of her interviewing me, coming to meetings, even coming to meet my family, was to save my image and my job.”
“She’s painted you as someone who’s ethical and honorable.”
“Are you listening?” I asked. “Save my image so I could keep my job. Her article says I’m not the right person for my position. You can’t argue with that.”
“No, you’re right. She says you’d be better off doing something else that would make you happy.”
Finally, he got it. “I’m plenty happy at Astro,” I said, and I enjoyed being successful. Some people had lots of skills, could turn their hand to anything. I’d been lucky with Astro. Been in the right place at the right time. It was the kind of success that didn’t come along twice in a row, the kind that made me happy.
“Are you really though? You haven’t seemed like yourself since Astro listed on the stock market.”
“Why wouldn’t I be happy? I’m the CEO of a FTSE 100 company—my company. I don’t want to be a show-off, and I know it doesn’t count because I’m not a doctor, but I’m one of the most successful businessmen of my generation.”
Jacob grabbed the screwdriver out of my hand and tried to fit the shelf up by himself as if I wasn’t even there. “You’re a fucking idiot. It’s got nothing to do with being a doctor. You can’t measure happiness and fulfillment on the zeros in your bank account or the share cap of the company you built.”
Silence settled between us as Jacob tried and failed to screw in the bracket. In the end he gave up and turned to face me. “Simple question: Do you enjoy your job?”
Maybe I was happier when the company was smaller and I could obsess over minutiae, when I didn’t have quite so many plates spinning and could focus on the details, develop tunnel vision about an idea until it came to fruition. But I didn’t want to walk away. What would I even do if I left Astro?
“I’d be happier if the press and investors and the board just left me alone.”
“But according to Madison, that’s like saying you want to be a plumber as long as you don’t have to work with pipes or water.” He waved the screwdriver in the air in frustration. “Dealing with the press, investors, and the board is the job. You just don’t like the job.” Jacob collapsed on the sofa as if he were completely exhausted with me.
I shoved my hands in my pockets, a thousand thoughts competing for my attention. I’d only considered getting over this particular hump with the board and the press. I’d assumed the profile would come out and people would realize what a bloody good job I was doing and leave me alone.
Perhaps life wasn’t that simple.
“So you’re saying I don’t want to be CEO of Astro.” It wasn’t a question. I’d heard him.
Finally.
If the job was a constant fight to prove myself, hadn’t I done that already? If building the company wasn’t enough, nothing else was going to convince my naysayers. I might not be able to create another Astro, but maybe there was something else out there for me. I’d fought my entire life for success, to make up for a decision at university that cost me my destined future. I didn’t want to spend the rest of my life trying to prove anything to a bunch of strangers I didn’t care about. It wasn’t a fight I wanted to be in.
“Actually, Madison said it. But I agree with her.”
“Yeah, well Madison’s article means I probably don’t get a choice in the matter. The board is probably going to fire me.”
“So resign,” Jacob said, heaving himself off the sofa. “I’m a doctor, not a shelf-putter-upper.” He abandoned his tools on the floor. “Shall we get a beer?”
I shrugged and followed him out of the office and across the lawn.
Resign? Just like that? I felt more than a little stupid that I’d only just realized what I wanted to do at Astro and what I was required to do were two different things. And if I didn’t want the job I was in, what else was there to do but resign?
Jacob was right, which meant Madison had been right.
I’d come to Norfolk to escape. To have a meal with my parents and forget about what was happening in London. I’d definitely not been expecting my brother to change my mind about what I wanted in my career and who I wanted in my life. Now that my eyes had been opened, I had work to do. It was time to close the book on one chapter of my life, and hopefully turn the page on another.
Twenty-Nine
Nathan
My parents’ kitchen table was where I came when I needed to escape, or when I had sins to confess. By the time I got there today, I no longer
needed to escape, and someone else’s sins needed confessing.
“It’s lovely to see you, darling,” my mother said. “And to have Jacob here at the same time is wonderful even if it is a little unexpected.” Mum shot me a look that said she knew this was more than a casual visit. “Will you help me with these strawberries? I think they’ll be the last of the season.” She handed me a wet colander of berries and I knocked it against the sink to get off the excess water, found a tea towel and a knife, and went to work.
“Jacob,” she called out at the banging in the hallway. “I need some cheese grated.” Without question or complaint, Jacob came in the kitchen and washed his hands. “Oh, I do so love having you boys back. Sometimes I think we should come back to London. Maybe we will if you start having babies.”
“Mum,” Jacob groaned. “Don’t start on that again.”
Babies. A family of my own. I’d always been so sure that those things had never been in my future. But now? Nothing about my future was certain. I was about to resign from Astro and my future was a blank sheet of paper.
“I have some news,” I said. Was I ready to say this out loud?
“Oh, darling?” my mother said as she stuck her head in the fridge.
“I’m going to resign from Astro,” I said.
“What do you mean resign?” she asked as she shut the fridge door and turned to face me. “I thought it was your company?”
“Not anymore,” I replied. That was the problem. When it was mine, I had no one to answer to except myself. “Since we went public, the shareholders own it. The board is in control.”
“Well, when did you decide this?” she asked.
“Jacob just convinced me I wasn’t up to the job,” I replied, trying to hide my grin. “It’s not announced yet, so you can’t tell anyone.”
