by Ber Carroll
‘Yeah, I had a lot of meetings and worked late most nights. That’s why I kept missing your calls,’ she answered, hating herself for lying.
‘I left you some voicemails.’
‘I know.’
‘Okay, I forgive you. Have you had dinner? Do you want to go out for something to eat?’
‘No, I need to talk to you.’
‘That sounds ominous,’ he said lightly. ‘Don’t you want to come in? The doorway doesn’t seem to be a good place to have an ominous discussion.’
She didn’t want to go into his living room, sit on his sofa, drink his tea, lose her nerve.
She stepped inside the door and stood firmly in the hallway.
‘Paul, I think we should stop seeing each other,’ she said, her words tumbling out in a rush.
‘Please come in and sit down so we can at least talk it through,’ he said calmly. He started to walk towards the living room. He stopped when she didn’t follow.
‘No, I’ll lose my resolve. I’ve been wanting to say this for a few weeks and I’m sorry if I seem abrupt and heartless but it’s the only way I can do it. I can’t handle how intense you are. It’s not what I want in my life right now.’
‘If you want me to back off, then that’s fine. But we don’t need to break up to achieve that.’ His voice was confident, convincing. It was the first time she had seen the ‘sales’ side of his personality.
‘Paul … it’s not working out. Yes, I feel smothered … but there are other things that are wrong as well. It’s just not working out …’
‘Okay, then. If that’s what you want.’ He was surprisingly detached and his lack of emotion confirmed her instinct that there was no special spark between them.
‘I guess I’ll see you around because of Fiona and James. Keep in touch,’ she said before letting herself out.
As she hailed down a taxi, she wondered what Paul had got out of their relationship. For someone who had been so attentive, he didn’t seem very bothered that she had finished it. She felt oddly miffed at his lukewarm reaction. Fiona wasn’t there when she got home. Like most people with a life, she was out on the town, having fun. Claire wondered at what point her adventure to the other side of the world had settled into the ups and downs of real life. It was Friday night and she was sitting at home with the exciting prospect of work tomorrow.
Robert was tired. He’d had a long day, and it wasn’t over yet.
His phone rang and he knew it was Julia.
‘Hello.’ He was unable to summon up any affection.
‘You haven’t called me since Sunday.’ Her voice was suspiciously uneven.
‘I apologise, Julia. When I’m working hard, I forget everything else. You should know me by now.’ He gave a placatory laugh.
‘That’s no excuse, Robert. You’re thousands of miles away from me. I don’t wake up beside you, I don’t see you at night, I feel as if we aren’t married any more.’ She was drunk – there was no way she would be so confrontational if she was sober.
‘Hey, calm down – there’s no need to get upset.’
‘Don’t tell me to calm down! I need to see you … I need to see my husband.’ Her angry words were slurred.
‘Julia, I can’t talk to you when you’re like this. I’ll call you over the weekend.’
He hung up, depressed. He was married to an alcoholic and he didn’t yet know the emotional or financial price of extracting himself from the marriage. He could delay the inevitable no further. He rang Tom Healy, his lawyer and old friend.
‘Hello, Tom, Robert here.’
‘Robert, man, I thought you had fallen off the side of the world.’
‘I’m sorry, Tom, I should have called you to let you know what was happening. I needed some time to think after our last discussion.’ Robert’s voice was subdued. The last time he had talked to Tom was the night before he left for Sydney. The topic of conversation had been divorce and Robert had taken a rain-check on the final decision.
‘Have you decided what you want to do?’
Robert hesitated before responding. ‘Yes, I’ve just come off the phone from Julia … our relationship is totally beyond repair … I want you to go ahead.’
Tom was sympathetic. ‘I’m sorry, Robert, I truly am.’
‘So am I,’ Robert sighed. ‘Julia is not in a good place right now. I’m hoping that she’ll at least be in some form of counselling by the time this process is done.’
‘I’ll get started on the paperwork straight away.’
‘I guess it will be the same as it was with Dianne,’ said Robert bleakly.
Julia called Cherie straight after her disturbing conversation with Robert. Wayne answered but she didn’t bother to make small talk with him.
‘I’ve talked to Robert,’ she said when Cherie came on the line.
‘How is he?’ Cherie asked, sitting on the stairs with the phone. Phone calls with Julia were often lengthy.
‘He won’t commit to me coming to see him in Sydney, says he’ll call me over the weekend … but I know he’ll put it off again.’
Cherie could hear the click of Julia’s lighter and her sharp intake as she inhaled.
‘It’s not surprising that Rob is preoccupied – he’s busy. He’s doing two jobs, for goodness sakes.’
‘You’re always defending him.’ Julia’s tone was accusatory.
‘No, I’m not. I’m giving you an independent view. Rob’s a hard worker. He has to be at his level in the company. He doesn’t have a nine-to-five job.’
‘That’s absolutely true. But I want him to have a nine-to-five job! I want him to leave Amtech.’
Cherie was taken aback by Julia’s vehemence. ‘Now you’re being ridiculous.’
‘No, I’m not. Everything would be okay if Amtech wasn’t in the picture.’
‘Julia, take a reality check. Look at the house you live in. Look at the clothes you’re wearing – you have a lot to be thankful to Amtech for.’ Cherie was losing her patience.
‘What’s the point in having all these material possessions if we don’t even get to see each other?’ Julia was like a dog with a bone.
‘Rob loves his job. There’s no way he’s going to leave the company,’ Cherie reasoned.
‘Watch this space, Cherie. Watch this space,’ Julia said darkly and abruptly hung up.
‘What was that all about?’ Wayne asked, ungluing his eyes from the TV to look at Cherie as she sat down beside him.
‘Just Julia … blaming Amtech for all her problems with Robert.’ She moved a toy from the sofa so she could sit comfortably.
‘I’m intrigued. How has she reached that conclusion?’ Wayne was sarcastic. He didn’t have much time for Julia.
‘She doesn’t see Robert when he’s here; he doesn’t call her when he’s away. She says he’s too busy with work to have a wife.’ Cherie yawned. She was tired.
‘Robert has always been over the top with the hours he works, it’s all part of the image he presents to Donald. It’s how he justifies his salary.’
‘Don’t be so cynical,’ Cherie frowned at him. ‘Robert has a lot of responsibility and he’s very committed. How many vice-presidents are hands-on enough to take a finance director’s role in a subsidiary?’
‘That was his choice. It’s the most stupid idea he’s ever come up with.’
Cherie was furious with Wayne for speaking about Robert in such a derogatory way but she swallowed her retort. She was too tired for an argument. They watched the news in silence for the next five minutes.
‘Julia wants him to leave Amtech,’ she said eventually. She wasn’t good with silences.
‘She might not have to wait too long. We should all make the most of Robert’s little visit to Sydney. Sooner or later, Donald will come to his senses and tell him to get back to San Jose or get out.’
Wayne’s jaw was rigid after his bizarre outburst. They were close to an argument so she left him to the TV and went for a bath. She didn’t know what the hell
was wrong with him tonight.
Saturday morning dawned with a brightness that made Claire feel instantly better. When she got outside she found that the sunshine was thin and there was a nip in the air. She shivered in her denim skirt and thongs and resolved to wear more appropriate clothes for the time of the year.
It was a pleasure catching the train, not having to fight for a seat or be caught up in the crowds as they swept impatiently through the station. She turned on the lights when she got to the office, relieved that nobody else was in, not in the mood for mindless chitchat when all she wanted to do was work. She worked solidly for four hours, aiming to get out of the office by lunchtime and salvage something of the weekend.
‘What are you doing here on such a beautiful day?’
It was Robert Pozos. He had admired her slim brown legs for a few moments before making his presence known. She swirled her seat around to face him. Her face was bare of make-up, her black hair tied back carelessly.
‘Don’t you have better things to do at weekends than hanging out at the office?’ he smiled.
‘Not really.’ She pulled a sad face. ‘I broke up with my boyfriend last night.’
He nodded and looked quite sad himself. ‘I know how you feel. I’m going through a divorce and somehow it’s easier if I absorb myself in work.’
Knowing that he was divorcing his wife disconcerted her. She had him in the ‘married category’ in her mind.
‘I’m sorry to hear about your divorce.’ She didn’t know what else to say.
‘Thank you, but it has been a long time coming and it’s certainly for the best.’
She looked anxious to return to her work. He knew he should leave. ‘Do you have much work to do today?’ he asked, moving closer to her desk.
‘A few more hours. I should have that information ready for you first thing Monday morning.’
He frowned, trying to recall what she was talking about. His face cleared when he remembered.
‘I didn’t intend for you to work the weekend to do those reports – they can wait.’
‘It’s okay …’
His eyes connected with hers: navy blue, startling in her fragile face.
‘Well, I’d better get on with this or I’ll never get out of here,’ she said, indicating the papers strewn on her desk to cover her discomfort.
‘Okay, I’ll see you Monday. Have a good weekend,’ he smiled and left reluctantly.
Claire tried to take it easy for the rest of the weekend. She didn’t go out with Fiona that Saturday night, a cardinal sin in Fiona’s eyes. She was a firm believer that Saturday nights were sacred – you had to have a very pathetic life if you stayed at home. Claire somehow resisted the pressure and went to bed early with a book. She was fast asleep fifteen minutes later and didn’t wake until late the next morning, still tired. It was an overcast day and she was secretly relieved. She wouldn’t feel as guilty about staying at home all day. Remembering that she had brought home some two hundred cheques that needed her signature, she decided to get that tedious task out of the way. She put the cheques on the bed, propped up her pillows and started signing.
She wasn’t concentrating too hard on what she was doing as the cheques required two signatures and Robert had already signed. She had signed the one for DC Solutions and a few more after it before it triggered that she had never heard of DC Solutions before and the cheque was for a large amount: $600,000. She retrieved the cheque and studied the supporting paperwork. It was a commission payment related to a deal Amtech had signed during the week with Initial Insurance. It wasn’t unusual for the company to pay commissions to outside parties who gave them the sales lead or helped close the deal. Claire remembered the deal being approximately $3 million, which made this commission twenty per cent of the revenue. The usual rate was in the range of five per cent to ten per cent. She put a Post-it on the face of the cheque to follow up with Frank Williams the next morning.
‘Hi Claire, how was your weekend?’ Emma asked, popping in to say hello on her way to her desk.
‘Boring wouldn’t do it justice,’ Claire replied as she opened her mail. ‘How about you?’
‘Fantastic! Went up north. Stayed in a great place.’
Emma had a very active outdoor life and frequently gave Claire welcome tips on bushwalks and unspoilt beaches that were off the tourist track.
There was a red envelope in Claire’s mail that looked like an invitation of some sort.
‘Oh, that’s your invite to the Sales kick-off. It’s being held in Barossa House,’ said Emma.
‘Where’s that?’
‘On the North Shore. It’s a beautiful old house. Lots of people get married there.’
‘Are you going?’ Claire asked, quickly scanning the invitation.
‘Everyone’s going! We had the best time last year! Nobody turned up at work the next day due to severe Hangover City! And they’re having it on a Thursday night again this year … wouldn’t you think they’d have learned their lesson?’
Emma had a pained expression on her face, presumably from the memory of how she felt the day after last year’s event. Claire looked up from the invitation, just in time to see Frank Williams walking purposefully past her office.
‘Frank, Frank, have you got a minute?’ she yelled after him.
He changed direction and came back, his huge bulk leaning on the slender doorframe. ‘Yes, what’s wrong?’
‘It’s about the payment to DC Solutions for the Initial Insurance deal. It works out at twenty per cent. How come we’re paying them so much?’ she asked, getting straight to the point. She and Frank didn’t pretend to exchange pleasantries since the last senior management meeting.
‘We didn’t have a choice. It was a very competitive deal and DC Solutions got us in there. We hadn’t a hope of winning it without them.’
‘I haven’t come across them before. Are they new?’
‘This was our first time doing business together.’
‘Do we have a contract with them?’ she persisted, ignoring his obvious irritation at being questioned further.
‘No, we don’t have a contract. It was a last-minute verbal deal. But if another deal comes up with them, I will personally make sure that our solicitors write a contract.’
‘Do that,’ she said, refusing to back down.
‘Is that all?’ he challenged, making a move to leave.
‘I suppose so.’
‘Touchy, isn’t he?’ Emma commented when he was gone.
‘Frank doesn’t like to be asked questions, especially not by me. Would you mind putting this cheque on James’s desk as it’s on your way?’
She wasn’t totally satisfied with Frank’s explanation but there wasn’t anything else she could do. The problem with Frank was that he was slippery, and she was never entirely sure if he was telling the truth.
Chapter 12
Barossa House was an impressive venue for the Sales kick-off. An expanse of immaculately manicured gardens protected it from the noise of the busy street. The old house was cloaked in soft outdoor lights, giving it a regal but welcoming aura. The four weeks that led up to the event were very busy for Claire. Robert was exacting and had endless stamina. She had prepared a lot of the financial information that he was going to present at the kick-off.
It was a full-day forum, with a series of presentations right through the day, ranging from new technical information to general strategies for the company in the coming fiscal year. The pace was fast and Claire had to listen carefully to Steve Ryan’s presentation.
‘To summarise, we need to do more business through our partners in the next year. It’s the only way we’ll be able to expand the company. We’ll be taking on two new sales reps who will specialise in cultivating relationships with partners who have the potential to give us worthwhile sales leads. We will have standard contracts with all parties. This is an area where we have been lax in the past.’
Steve switched slides to a colourful bar chart.
‘One of the key assumptions behind our budgeted margin figure in this slide is a maximum incentive payment of ten per cent to our partners. It’s important to ensure that we stay within this limit. You must remember that we will be eroding our margins with this new sales strategy. Giving more than ten per cent could put us in a loss.’
Claire was pleased. That should mean no more cheques like the one for DC Solutions. If we have supporting contracts and standard percentages, I’ll have nothing left to argue with Frank about … we’ll be best of friends.
Robert’s presentation was the last one of the day. His focus was on the common weaknesses in the deals that the sales team had closed during the year. Claire had spent a few days researching the issues for him. They had worked together to narrow the list down to a few priorities. He was a good presenter, his natural authority demanding the attention even of those less interested listeners. She couldn’t help admiring him – his confident voice, his casual movements across the podium as he talked through the slides.
‘The deals we strike in the last week of the quarter have the worst margins and are fraught with problems. We are often forcing the customer to take software that they’re not ready for. Not only is this unprofessional, but when we go to collect the money the customer argues that they didn’t want the software until later, so why should they have to pay now? Most of the problem accounts that Alan Harris is currently working on have developed from this scenario …’
Claire shot a look in Alan’s direction. He glowed with self-importance at Robert’s reference to him.
‘We’ve got to stop this quarter-end rush and spread our sales out evenly over the quarter. To facilitate this new initiative, we will be setting monthly targets instead of quarterly targets for our sales team. As result, our deals should be constructed better and we should also find that both our sales and finance staff will have a more even workload.’ He paused to look at his watch; they were a half hour behind schedule. ‘Any questions?’
Frank Williams had his hand raised before Robert stopped speaking. One of the ushers handed him a microphone.
