Executive Affair

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Executive Affair Page 7

by Ber Carroll


  ‘Have you known James long?’

  ‘We grew up together.’

  ‘That’s nice.’

  ‘For me it was. But James had a tough childhood.’

  ‘Did he?’

  ‘Yeah. That’s why he’s so ambitious.’

  James was easygoing and relaxed at work. Claire concluded that his ambitions must lie outside Amtech.

  ‘It’s great that your friendship lasted all the way through your childhood and teens to now,’ she commented.

  Paul shrugged. ‘We have a lot in common. We both want the same things out of life.’

  ‘And what’s that?’ she couldn’t resist asking.

  ‘To get rich quick and retire young,’ he grinned and she laughed with him.

  James and Fiona weren’t there when they went back inside. Claire felt her face colour with embarrassment.

  ‘You look worried,’ Paul said with a smile. ‘Relax … nothing needs to happen if you don’t want it to.’

  ‘I’m totally out of practice with all this,’ she admitted nervously. ‘I split up with my boyfriend not so long ago.’

  ‘Is it okay if I put this on?’ He was holding up a U2 CD.

  She nodded. When he sat down, he took her hand loosely in his.

  ‘Let’s just sit here and listen to some music.’

  They fell asleep on the couch, lying lengthways, her body moulded against his. It felt nice.

  Claire woke, her face jammed into a velvet cushion and her knees cramped from being in the same position for hours. She couldn’t speak without eating some of the cushion so she nudged Paul with her elbow to encourage him to move off her.

  ‘Hey, what was that for?’ He flinched when her elbow made contact with his stomach.

  ‘Sorry, I couldn’t breathe,’ she said, sitting up, taking huge gulps of air.

  Her face felt hot and she was sure her hair was all over the place.

  ‘Excuse me,’ she mumbled, making a quick exit before he had time to see what a mess she was. The damage was worse than she expected. Her mascara was in thick black lumps under her eyes. Even though there was no lipstick remaining on her lips, there was a red smudge on her chin. She carried out some rushed repairs with the sparse cosmetics that were available in the bathroom.

  ‘Would you like to go somewhere with me today? Maybe a drive down south?’ Paul asked when she returned to the living room. He was sitting up, his fair hair ruffled. He had put on his glasses.

  ‘I’m sorry, I can’t,’ she apologised as she sat awkwardly on the arm of the couch. ‘I need to finish painting my room – I left it half-finished yesterday.’

  ‘I’ll help you if you promise to go out with me afterwards,’ he offered.

  ‘Do you mean it?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Really? Thank you so much! I was dreading starting it again!’ She beamed at him and jumped up to show him to the bedroom before he could change his mind.

  ‘Why did you stop painting right in the middle of the wall? I won’t be able to get the line out,’ he scolded as he scrutinised her handiwork.

  ‘I’ve never painted before – I thought it would be easy,’ she replied humbly.

  ‘Look, why don’t you get ready while I finish this off? Do you have an old T-shirt I could wear?’

  After Paul had finished painting and done his best to disguise the line, they caught a taxi to his flat. It was in a quiet, tree-lined street in Mosman. While Paul showered and changed she inspected the interior. There were photos of him with various family members scattered around the room. Patio doors led to the terracotta-tiled balcony that had generous plants and a distant view of the city. He shared the unit with James but Claire knew that even between two people the rent would be expensive.

  His BMW went well with the classy apartment. She looked out the car window, engrossed in the busy, cosmopolitan suburbs while he concentrated on the traffic.

  ‘So, are you going to stay here in the Great Southern Land?’ he asked when they finally hit the motorway.

  ‘I’ll certainly stay for a few years,’ she answered, looking across at him. ‘I would never get the job I have here back in Ireland.’

  ‘If you’re James’s boss, what exactly does that make you?’

  ‘I’m the finance manager. How about you? What do you do?’ she asked politely.

  ‘I’m a sales manager.’

  She would not have guessed. He looked like he would be in a more traditional profession, like teaching. He was certainly a far cry from Frank Williams, the sales director at Amtech.

  ‘I know some people in the sales team in Amtech. I’ve come across Frank Williams at a few of the industry seminars. Do you have much to do with him at work?’

  She was taken aback that he mentioned Frank just as she had been thinking about him. ‘Yes, I know Frank quite well. I wouldn’t say we are best of friends, though.’

  ‘I imagine that he would be hard to handle. All the same, he does seem to be a very smart man and he’s impressive when you see him in action.’

  ‘I’ll take your word for it! What company do you work for?’

  ‘Digicom, a competitor of Amtech.’

  ‘So that’s it! You’re trying to extract trade secrets from me!’ she teased. ‘I knew you couldn’t like me for myself.’

  He turned to give her a quick wink. ‘Trade secrets are just one of many attractions.’

  The fields were surprisingly green as they blurred past. The motorway had petered out into a narrow single-lane road that wound around the tips and dips of the gentle hills. She hummed along to the radio for a few minutes before he spoke again.

  ‘Been to Jervis Bay before?’

  ‘No … I’ve only been up north. This countryside reminds me of home.’

  ‘Yeah, Ireland is beautiful. I was there three years ago.’

  ‘So, you’ve travelled a bit then?’ she probed.

  ‘I worked for Digicom in California for a few years and used it as an opportunity to see some of Europe.’

  They stopped for a late lunch in Huskisson. They ate in the beer garden of the main hotel, facing the blue-green water with its fringe of white sand. The lazy tempo of the jazz band and the wine she had with lunch made her relax in his company. He was interesting and entertaining, and conversation flowed easily. Fiona was her only close friend in Sydney. Her colleagues at work were pleasant but they kept their distance socially. Paul filled a gap she hadn’t known existed before this afternoon.

  She was so mellow when they began their journey back to Sydney, she drifted off to sleep within minutes. She woke with a start, looking around wildly, trying to get her bearings. Paul seemed amused by her embarrassment.

  ‘I’m so sorry,’ she apologised as she sat up.

  ‘Don’t worry about it. You look cute when you’re asleep.’

  He pulled up outside the flat.

  ‘Thanks for a lovely day,’ she said.

  He leaned over and cupped her face in his hands. She pulled back slightly when he kissed her.

  ‘I’ll call you tomorrow,’ he said, his face very close.

  ‘Okay … bye,’ she muttered and stumbled out of the car.

  Fiona wasn’t home and the empty silence of the flat was what she needed. It was a long time since she had been kissed by someone other than Michael. The kiss had been nice, but it left her feeling vulnerable and a little confused. One thing was sure, though: it was a step in the right direction.

  Claire arrived at work feeling unusually happy for a Monday morning. At some stage the previous day she had broken her ties with Michael. The world looked promising and exciting, and she was emotionally free to enjoy it. She worked methodically through her large pile of admin, for once not minding the monotony.

  The day flew by and Claire was winding up when Harry knocked on her door.

  ‘I’m glad you’re still here. I have something I need to talk to you about.’

  ‘Nothing serious, I hope,’ she said, noting that he had closed he
r door behind him and that his expression looked rather solemn.

  ‘I’ve decided to retire. I handed in my notice to Steve today and will be leaving at the end of April,’ he said, his face transforming into a broad smile.

  It took her a few seconds to absorb the enormity of his statement. When she finally did, her instinctive reaction was selfish dismay. He looked so pleased with himself, she made an effort to hide how upset she was. ‘Congratulations! What are you planning to do with your spare time?’

  ‘Fishing and golf,’ he grinned.

  ‘So what’s going to happen with your position?’ she asked carefully.

  ‘David Di Gregario has put a few employment agencies on it already. I’m hoping to do a full handover to my successor but Robert has also spoken to Tony Falcinella in order to have a fall-back plan should the recruitment process take longer than expected. If that happens, Tony will cover what he can from Hong Kong until the right person is found.’

  She hadn’t met Tony Falcinella, but knew his name. He was the finance director for Asia. She was silent for a few moments, trying to decide if she should be open with him or not.

  ‘You look worried,’ he said. ‘Tell me what you’re thinking.’

  She didn’t need any further encouragement. ‘It’s hard to imagine what it will be like here without you, Harry. I’ve relied on you a lot and I guess I’m apprehensive about how I’ll cope without your support.’

  ‘You have nothing to worry about. I’ve had positive feedback from all the senior managers about you. You have their respect. I’m very confident that you will be able to manage without me – in fact, you’ll soon see how dispensable I am,’ he said with a chuckle.

  Claire made her way home in a preoccupied daze. Her job would be very different without Harry around to support her. The phone started to ring as she trudged wearily up the stairs. She ran the last few steps, cursing as she frantically tried to fit her key in the stiff lock. She picked up the phone, breathless, to an amused Paul.

  ‘Hi there. You’re obviously just in the door!’ His cheerful voice was inexplicably annoying.

  ‘Yeah, and I must say I’ve had a diabolical day.’

  ‘Is it something you want to talk about? Do you want me to come over? We could go out for a coffee or a drink.’

  She generally preferred to be on her own when she was in a bad mood. It seemed too soon to see him after spending all day yesterday together.

  ‘Okay,’ she agreed, when she had hesitated too long to be able to politely refuse.

  ‘I’m in the city. I shouldn’t be long.’

  She ran to her bedroom and changed into a pair of jeans and a white top. When the doorbell rang twenty minutes later, she applied a light touch of lipstick and opened the door, ready to go.

  ‘Hi,’ she said casually.

  He kissed her – a soft, unsettling kiss.

  ‘I know it’s a corny thing to say but I’ve been thinking about you all day,’ he said as he pulled away.

  She found that she couldn’t return the compliment.

  She suggested Tables, a popular noisy café on the main strip. They secured one of the few more private cubicles that looked out on the street. They silently watched the passing pedestrians for a few minutes and, when their order was taken, she started to tell him about her day. He listened until she ran out of steam.

  ‘Why don’t you apply for Harry’s job?’ he asked, sipping his coffee as he looked at her intently.

  ‘I don’t have enough experience for a role like that … I bet you they’ll give it to a man. In fact, fifty bucks says they will – they wouldn’t know what to do with a female finance director,’ she said wryly.

  ‘I’m not betting anything – I reckon you’re right,’ he said smiling. ‘How do Frank and Harry get along?’

  ‘It’s hard to say. I don’t think Harry lets Frank get away with much but I’ve never seen them have a disagreement.’

  ‘Would Harry have more authority than Frank?’ Paul seemed to be extremely interested in her work life.

  ‘Yes, Frank needs to get Harry’s sign-off on customer proposals over a certain materiality level.’

  ‘What level? Half a million?’

  ‘Enough about work, Paul. Let’s talk about something else.’

  They made small talk for another hour before she suggested they leave.

  ‘Do you want to go for a drink?’ he asked.

  ‘Not really – I usually like to stay at home Monday nights,’ she said, smiling to take the edge from her refusal. ‘It gives me a chance to recover from the weekend.’

  ‘Okay. Can I see you tomorrow night?’

  ‘I’ve got a lot of work on at the moment … how about we do something at the weekend instead?’

  In his car outside her apartment, he kissed her again. It was even nicer than before; she was obviously getting used to it.

  Den was there when she got inside. He and Fiona were sitting on the floor, accompanied by the usual cloud of smoke and bottles of beer.

  ‘Hey, Claire, come here and give me a hug.’ He stretched his arm out and hugged her legs.

  ‘Hello, stranger. Glad to see you remembered where we live,’ she said as she knelt down beside him.

  ‘I’ve seen what you’ve done to my room. That’s a disgusting colour.’

  ‘What would you know about colour? You have your head stuck in black and white contracts all day, Mister Lawyer,’ she teased him.

  ‘Don’t call me that. You know I hate it,’ he grimaced, turning his head to puff on his cigarette.

  ‘Tough luck. Much as you try to deny it, you are a lawyer. Worse still, you’re a good lawyer. It’s something you have to learn to live with, just like any other handicap.’

  ‘What time did Den leave?’ Claire asked as she made herself some tea the next morning.

  ‘Not long after you went to bed. It was nice to see him … Don’t worry, nothing happened between us.’

  ‘I’m not sure I should believe you! Are you seeing James again?’

  ‘Yes, tonight. I like him.’ Fiona sat down with her overflowing bowl of cereal. ‘What does he do at Amtech again?’

  ‘He works in Accounts Payable.’

  ‘You know, James and Den are complete opposites,’ Fiona said, looking thoughtful.

  ‘I noticed that.’

  ‘James is very driven – I think money motivates him – but his chosen career path isn’t that well paid. Then you have Den. He gets paid a fortune but hates material possessions and doesn’t have any respect for money.’

  ‘Yes, well, you’ll have to see how it goes with James,’ said Claire. ‘Just take things slowly …’

  ‘Yeah …’ Fiona chewed a mouthful of cereal. She seemed oblivious to the fact it wasn’t just Den who was the complete opposite to James; she was too. ‘Where did you go with Paul last night?’

  ‘Tables.’

  ‘Anything else you should be telling me?’

  ‘I kissed him.’

  ‘What was it like?’

  ‘The world didn’t exactly turn on its axis, but I think there’s potential.’

  Fiona grinned approvingly. ‘That’s good progress.’

  Chapter 8

  Julia swung into Cherie and Wayne’s driveway at a reckless speed. She was crying loudly. If she was honest with herself, her second marriage was heading the same way as her first. At least this time she had Cherie to lean on. Cherie – practical, solid and always at home on standby.

  ‘Julia!’ Cherie’s welcoming smile dissolved as she registered the emotional state of her late-night visitor. ‘Hey … what’s happened?’

  ‘It’s ten pm and Robert still isn’t home. He hasn’t even called.’

  ‘For heaven’s sake, is that all? You gave me such a shock. Come in and sit down,’ Cherie offered, trying to control her annoyance. Julia had really scared her. She should have known it would be something trivial.

  She ushered Julia into the kitchen and closed the door so Wayne wouldn�
��t hear the commotion.

  ‘Robert is obviously still at work. Wayne only came home not that long ago,’ she said as she put on the kettle. Wayne had been home at least an hour but she was trying to make Julia feel better.

  Her efforts were wasted. Julia was determined not to be consoled. ‘He’s having an affair! Where else would he be until this hour?’

  ‘Just because he’s late home doesn’t automatically mean he’s having an affair.’ Cherie sat down across from her.

  ‘He works late every night. It’s probably his new secretary. The bitch doesn’t even pass on my messages when I call!’ Julia’s face was contorted with unjustified hatred.

  The kettle had boiled and Cherie got up to make some coffee.

  ‘I don’t feel like coffee. Can I have a real drink?’ Julia asked, taking her cigarettes from her bag. She lit one and inhaled aggressively.

  ‘It’s very late, Julia … and you do have to drive home …’ Cherie hesitated.

  ‘Relax … I’m having a hell of a time and I just need a drink.’

  Cherie felt a wave of pity for her and got two beers from the fridge. She had wanted an early night and had been about to go to bed when the doorbell rang. But she made a conscious effort not to think of herself. She knew how much Julia needed her.

  Their friendship had been founded on a surprising sense of girlishness. Julia would whisper confidences about her blossoming relationship with Robert and burst into refreshing fits of giggles; though they wore different sizes in clothes, Julia would frequently come across belts and earrings and nail varnishes that she claimed would suit Cherie better than they did her. She made Cherie feel like she was back in high school and not a tired mother of two. The wedding marked a change, and the last six months had been particularly rough. But Cherie was loyal, a friend for life, and she believed she could help Julia through this bad patch.

  ‘I really think you’re overreacting,’ she said. ‘Wayne is very busy at the moment too. Amtech is doing well and everyone is struggling to keep up with the boom.’

  ‘Give me some credit – I know that something is wrong.’ Julia started to cry again. ‘Robert had an affair with me, remember? While he was still married to Dianne … so what’s stopping him from doing the same now with his secretary?’

 

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