Claire and the Lady Billionaire_Book 8

by Giselle Fox

  “You’re welcome,” I said. “So, I was thinking about something on my way over here.”

  “Uh, oh.”

  “We should set up a writing schedule. Nothing strenuous, just something consistent. By the end of the year, we might have something.”

  John nodded thoughtfully. “You’ve been reading my mind again.”

  “I was also thinking that the book project might be the perfect way to buy you more time away from the office without, you know, raising any serious health concerns.”

  “Not a bad idea.”

  “Jasmine could plant a few teasers about the book on social media; start getting some interest.”

  John looked over at me. “You have been thinking.”

  I shrugged. “Who knows, you might get an agent just from that.”

  “No pressure at all,” he laughed.

  “Don’t you worry, with your name on it, it’ll be a bestseller. We’ll make it a good read.”

  “Thanks, kid.” He took a deep breath. “I like the idea. I can’t keep blaming a broken ankle when nothing is wrong with my damn leg. Then maybe I can get out of the house one of these days.”

  “One of these days,” I said. He wasn’t exactly out of the woods yet and I knew that letting him run wild in the world could be a slippery slope.

  “I’ll send the announcement to Mina,” he said. “She can put it in the newsletter next week.”

  “Great. It’s better than people trying to guess when you’ll be back. It’s probably hard for some people to feel settled with a new boss when you don’t know how long she’s going to be in charge.”

  John looked over at me. He said nothing for a long time before finally speaking. “How are things going over there?”

  “Okay, as far as I know.”

  John shook his head. “You girls… think you can kid a kidder.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You know what I mean. What’s happening over there?”

  “You have to talk to Camille.”

  “She doesn’t talk. That’s why I’m asking you.”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Don’t know or won’t tell me?”

  I didn’t respond.

  “I’m not going to drop dead if you talk to me, Claire. I know when things are off. I can feel it. I can see it in my daughter’s eyes.”

  I didn’t doubt it considering how tied John had been to his business all his life. “I’ll say one thing, but the rest is up to you and Camille to discuss,” I said.

  “Go for it.”

  “Some people haven’t accepted that she’s taken over your role. It’s made a lot of situations difficult.”

  John pursed his lips. “Who?”

  “She doesn’t name names.”

  “She doesn’t have to, I can guess,” John said. He took a deep breath and peered at me again. “Is that the real reason you brought this over?” He lifted the notebook.

  I wasn’t going to lie since he’d already figured it out.

  “Okay,” John said after a few more minutes of silence. “I’ll take care of it.”

  Maybe giving John the heads-up about the situation at work was an overstep, but he already seemed to know that something was wrong. Something needed to be done and Camille wasn’t going to ask for his help. Looking at John, it didn’t seem that the truth had hurt him at all. In fact, he looked more resolute and determined than he had in ages. Camille wasn’t just his daughter, she was his protege, and Vermillion was his baby. His stake in their longevity ran deep.

  He stood up and walked to the edge where the patio stones met the sand. He looked out over the ocean, placing his hands in his pockets. A few moments later he turned around.

  “How do I look?”

  No matter how hard I tried to convince him otherwise, John’s plan was to drive to the office and make his big announcement himself. “I’ll put the damn cast on, don’t worry,” he said.

  “That’s not what I’m worried about.”

  “I’ll tell her it was my idea.” He pulled another suit from his closet and inspected it.

  “It was your idea,” I replied. “Let me do that for you, at least.”

  “I can dress myself,” he said.

  “I wasn’t offering to dress you; I was just going to help you pick out something that fit.”

  John laughed at me. “Don’t be so nervous, kid. I’m the boss, remember? I’ve known these guys for years.”

  “I’m not nervous; I’m terrified.” I held up a dark-blue suit. “This one is cut a little tighter. You won’t look like you’re swimming in it.”

  John patted his stomach. “I’m down to what I weighed in my thirties.”

  “It looks good on you,” I said. “So does the tan.” It was true. With a tan, John almost looked healthy.

  He held the suit up under his chin and assessed himself in the mirror. “This one.”

  “Tie or no tie?” I asked, holding up a few possibilities.

  “No tie. I’m a writer now,” he said, grinning. His blue eyes flashed back at me in the mirror.

  I gave him a smile back. I knew that if he could keep it up, his visit to the office might work out just fine.

  “Tell me what’s happening right now,” Sabrina whispered. She’d jumped to attention the second John and I had stepped out the front door. I tucked John’s accessory crutches and wheelchair into the trunk and walked around to the passenger side. John was already sitting in the back seat with his window rolled down.

  “He wants to go to Vermillion,” I said. “I tried to talk him out of it, but…”

  “It’s time I checked on things,” John said. “How are you liking the car?”

  “I love it more every day, Mr. B,” Sabrina replied happily.

  “I know you love it; I was asking Claire,” he said.

  “I love getting shuttled around like a princess wherever I go,” I said. “But the car is pretty nice too.”

  “Pretty nice…” John muttered. “I should let you girls take mine for a burn some time.”

  Sabrina glanced over at me and smiled.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  We headed along the beach road toward the tunnel. Sabrina was taking it easy, I assumed for John’s benefit. For the first time since John gave us the car, other cars were passing us.

  John cleared his throat. “Do you always drive this slow?”

  “Nope,” I said, amused.

  “I was taking it easy on purpose,” Sabrina said looking back at him in the rearview mirror.

  “You’re driving it like a horse and buggy. I’d like to get to the office sometime today.”

  “Alright, Mr. B,” Sabrina said and kicked it into gear, “hang on to your cufflinks.”

  I glanced at John in my side view mirror. His window was still rolled down partway. The breeze was ruffling his gray hair. His eyes were closed and his chin was angled up toward the sun. He looked peaceful; happy even.

  Then, as we emerged from the tunnel and rounded the turn onto the Keppel Road exit, the Vermillion tower came into view. His eyes opened and focused on it in the distance.

  I tried to imagine what that must have felt like. It was a monument of his life’s work, painted against the hazy blue sky. Its cold glass and metal frame was a symbol of the imbalance that had nearly cost him his life. The peace and calm receded from his features. His jaw firmed, his blue eyes pierced through the sunlight. It all had an ominous feeling. But then quietly, he turned away and stared out at the water instead.

  ***

  “Where the hell is everyone?” he asked when we got up to Camille’s floor.

  It was a good question. The entire floor, as far as I could tell, was empty. “Um… I don’t know.”

  Sabrina was texting; Jasmine, I assumed. A few seconds later her phone chimed. “Apparently they’re all downstairs,” she said, looking up at me.

  “Downstairs… where?” John asked.

  “On the 33rd floor.”

  We took the elevato
r down. When the doors opened we could see what was going on. Everyone had gathered on the empty floor, the same empty floor we had played hide-and-seek on the night of Camille’s birthday. Sabrina pushed John’s wheelchair out of the elevator and into the cavernous space.

  People that were standing in the back rows turned and saw John. A wave of whispers rippled through the crowd. I heard Camille’s voice somewhere up at the front, though I couldn’t see her. But then suddenly everyone fell to a hush as word of John’s return spread.

  We rolled John to the front of the group. Camille was standing there; Leda and Jasmine stood behind her, off to the side. Camille looked as surprised to see us as we were. Her eyes landed on her father.

  “Dad, what are you doing here?”

  “What are you doing here?” he asked, looking at all the faces standing in front of him.

  “I called an emergency meeting,” Camille replied. “This was the best place to do it.”

  “I see,” John said. “Err… carry on. I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

  Camille looked uncertain. She took a step toward us but John stopped her. “Go ahead. This is your meeting.”

  She nodded and then looked back at the group. “I started working here the summer I turned fourteen years old, filing papers for my father back when his office was still down on the third floor,” Camille began as she looked around the room. “I’ve had the pleasure of knowing some of you for that long. Others, I have met more recently.” She paused and took a step forward. “This is a big company, with an even bigger vision. It began with my grandfather’s shipping firm and has grown into the global force that it is today. For every one of us, it is our livelihood. For my grandfather, my father, and now me, it is more than a job; it is our life.”

  She stepped into the thick of people. The group parted, allowing her to move through them. “Ahmad, you led the first team that my father placed me on. You let me sit with you and watch everything you did. You answered all of my questions with kindness and patience. You were one of my first great mentors.”

  Ahmad nodded and smiled at her.

  “Tian, you showed me how to negotiate better than even my father could. In the beginning, I tried so much to be like him. You made me realize I would be better if I trusted myself.”

  She turned to a woman that was smiling at her. “Jia-Xin, you came to me when I lost the Temas contract; when I thought it was the end of the world. You made me realize that through that loss, another door had opened. You encouraged me to reach for something greater and with your help and many others, we achieved it less than a year later.”

  Camille stepped to the front of the room again. “This has always been a joint effort. Within that effort, we each have a job to do. My job, right now, is to lead this organization. Yours is to do exactly as you have always done: your very best at what you were hired for; nothing more, nothing less.” She glanced down at the floor for a moment, folding her hands.

  “But something tragic has been happening inside this building for the last several weeks. It began with the release of a video about me and has only compounded with my father’s absence. Many that found the situation intolerable have already left us, but some of you have stayed despite having reservations about working for a woman like me. Now, I understand how the media situation might be embarrassing for you—believe me, I do—but you, alone, are responsible for how you choose to conduct yourself here. After four weeks, it has become very apparent, to myself and to others I trust, exactly who has endeavored to strengthen the team, and who has attempted to weaken it. Destructive behavior will no longer be tolerated. It affects everyone in this room, it affects our partners, it affects our future, and I will not allow it to continue. I don’t care who you are. We have never been a small-minded company and we will not start now.” She looked out into the sea of faces.

  There was a mix of grumbles and chatter around the room. Camille lifted her chin and stood strong. Someone stepped forward; an angry-looking man in a dark suit. “You can’t do this alone. I demand to hear what John has to say.”

  Everyone looked at John.

  “You want to know what I think?” John asked him. Then, he pulled himself to his feet and limped his way over to where the man stood until he was standing almost nose to nose with him. “I’m disappointed,” he said. He took a step back and addressed the room. “I came here to make an announcement that I’ll be taking a longer leave. I expected to drop by and say hello to old friends and colleagues; to catch up on what you’ve all been doing. I’ve only been gone for a matter of weeks and look at this…” He turned to Camille. “Do what you have to do.”

  Camille nodded to him and took a step forward. “The HR department has enough grounds for your dismissal should you choose to litigate. You know who you are, so I won’t name names, but I ask you now to leave Vermillion quietly. You will be given a fair reference if you go today. Tomorrow will be different, I promise you.”

  There were shouts from all around the room; angry voices and then others that responded in Camille’s defense. Suddenly, it seemed as if the two sides were fighting it out, but then, the throng began to separate and disperse. Two men left through the stairwell door and disappeared. A small group followed behind. More walked to the elevator. All the while, Camille, Leda, Jasmine, Sabrina, John, and myself, waited. John stood, watching; staring into the eyes of those that were leaving. It was an exodus but in the end, many remained.

  Camille stepped forward again. “When Vermillion first moved into this building, it occupied a single floor. It came with a tight group of forward-thinking people that were willing to look beyond personal differences and work through adversity. This is the same kind of group we have left, right here. You are the core of our workforce; the same foundation from which we built everything you see around us. Our number might appear small; the load left by our colleagues might seem daunting, but if you think that good replacements are hard to find, think again.” She held up a stack of paper in her hand.

  “These are letters from around the world. Right now, more than at any other time in the last ten years, talented men and women from every sector are asking to join us. The empty spaces you see around the room will be filled. Our team will be a force, once again.” Camille looked around the room again and then smiled. “Things feel better already, don’t you think?”

  ***

  John was with Camille in her office. The rest of us waited outside, trying to stay out of Jamie’s way. She looked up at me and waved me over. “He looks pretty good,” she whispered, nodding toward Camille’s door.

  I bent down and whispered back. “He’s been doing well.” I glanced at the door, fearing that the day would eventually take its toll on him. “I hope it lasts.”

  Jamie got back to work, but we all looked up whenever we heard a noise from the office inside. John may have stood up for Camille in the emergency meeting, but I wondered whether he felt the same behind closed doors.

  Then, the door opened and Camille stepped out. She was smiling. “Hey,” she said when she saw me standing there.

  “Hey,” I replied. She came over and gave me a long hug. I was shocked. It was the first time she’d ever held me in front of the staff.

  A few of the women at the desks stood up. Then, Jamie stood and began to clap her hands. The women beyond did the same. It spread, until all around the floor, we heard the same sound. It got louder and louder as the loyal women and men that had stood by Camille began to cheer. More faces appeared in the hallways and corridors, from behind doors and cubicle walls. Camille’s eyes roamed the room. They were all clapping for her. And when John emerged, he was too.

  As hopeful as everything had been left at the office, the truth remained; a lot of people had left Vermillion that day. John had managed to stay strong through it, but we all could see the toll it had taken as the afternoon drew to an end. Sabrina and I ushered him back into his wheelchair and set off back to his home on the water. After staring quietly out the window for mo
st of the drive, he fell asleep in the backseat of the car.

  We had to wake him when we arrived at the house. We each took an arm and helped him up the stairs. After refusing to eat anything, he collapsed in his bed without a word. I was worried about him. So worried, that I decided not to leave until I knew for sure that he was okay. I texted Camille and told her I was considering staying the night. She replied and said that she would too.

  John stayed asleep for most of the evening. I didn’t wake him for dinner. By the time Camille arrived just after 9 pm, he got up. He came out to the living room where we both sat. The big glass doors that led out onto the patio were open. A warm, sultry breeze blew in through the house. The torches to the Sugar Shack were lit and flickering in the wind. John stood for a short time out on the patio, looking up at the moon.

  Then, he turned and took a seat in his usual spot inside. Camille and I were sitting close together on the couch. Camille looked exhausted, but I could see that a weight had been lifted off of her shoulders. She regarded her father lovingly. “How are you feeling, Dad?”

  “A little tired,” he said and exhaled. “Helluva day.”

  Camille nodded but didn’t take her eyes off him. She leaned forward and reached for his hand. “Thank you for being there.”

  “It was an accident,” he said. “But something told me it was time to make an appearance.”

  Camille looked at me. “Something or someone?”

  John smiled at her. “Doesn’t matter. It wasn’t doing me any good sitting here and wondering.”

  “No, I suppose it wasn’t,” Camille replied.

  John smiled at me. “So… let’s start tomorrow, eh kid?”

  “The book?” I asked.

  “Yep, the book. There’s no turning back now.”

  “Okay, tomorrow sounds good,” I said.

  Camille smiled at both of us. “It sounds fun.”

  John settled back in his armchair and smiled at Camille again. “I’ve got an idea of how the first chapter is going to go.”

  “Really,” she asked. “How?”