by Lacey London
Table of Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Clara
Bounces Back
Copyright © 2017 by Stacey Cartlidge
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof
may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever
without the express written permission of the publisher
except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
For my husband.
Besides Mr Tumnus, you’re my favourite reason to smile.
Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Prologue
Looking around the bustling Suave office, my lips stretch into a grin as I take in the sparkling scene in front of me. As usual, laughter fills the vibrant room, creating a happy soundtrack to the lively happenings that are unfolding. Phones are ringing loudly, keyboards are clacking busily and the smiles of my best friends are shining brightly.
The first hour of the day is always my favourite and judging by the buzzing atmosphere in here, it’s everyone else’s favourite, too. Shuffling around to get comfortable in my seat, I rest my elbows on the desk and sigh happily. Marc and Lianna are swapping promotion concepts by the whiteboard, Hugh and Vernon are celebrating the possible signing of a new client and Owen is laughing heartily as he chats on the phone. Watching him joyfully spout figures, I flash him the thumbs-up sign and spin around in my chair.
I might be a little biased, but in my humble opinion, Suave is quite possibly the best place to work in the entire world. They say that a happy workforce is the key to a successful business and that could be the secret to our achievements so far. We don’t have all areas of the business covered just yet, but no one can accuse us of not being hugely passionate while we learn. From late-night brainstorming sessions in The Bistro, to entire weekends dedicated to exploring sales strategies. Each and every one of us has given a hundred and ten percent to our new roles and we couldn’t be happier to do so.
Turning my attention to my desk, I run my eyes over the various items that are strewn around my computer. Snippets of my life are scattered before me, creating a rainbow of memories in the form of random trinkets and bric-a-brac. Funky photos of Noah sit next to the retro phone, a mug bearing my name holds my morning coffee and a single red rose from Oliver stands proudly by the keyboard. Picking up my pink stress ball, which I take great pleasure in firing at Lianna when she isn’t looking, I throw it into the air and catch it effortlessly.
My gaze lands on the calendar by the window and I smile to myself as I realise what day it is. Most people hate Mondays, but for me, they’re the best day of the week. Arriving at work fills me with happiness, adrenaline and an unstoppable determination to succeed. Since we took control of Suave a few months back, it has been an absolute pleasure to dive out of bed in the morning. Drumming up business for the company we saved from the brink of destruction gives me an overwhelming sense of achievement and to be accompanied by my best friends in the process is just the icing on the cake.
Reaching for my coffee, I watch Marc and Lianna animatedly discussing marketing strategies and blow into the steaming mug carefully.
‘So, what do you think?’ Li demands, her eyes glittering as she hops onto Marc’s desk. ‘It’s better than your idea, right?’ Swinging her long legs back and forth, she runs her fingers through her hair as she awaits his response.
‘Are you kidding me?’ Pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose, Marc laughs loudly and shakes his head. ‘No offence.’ He adds tactfully, recognising the look of annoyance on Lianna’s face.
Letting out a shocked laugh, she jumps off the desk and points to her portfolio eagerly. Her blonde hair shimmers under the bright light as she tries her hardest to persuade Marc that her idea outshines his. Clearly not convinced, he raises his eyebrows and tosses her pink folder into the bin playfully. Fighting fire with fire, Li attempts to tear up Marc’s laminated sheet and the pair of them erupt into giggles when she fails miserably.
Laughing into my cup, I twirl a random curl around my finger and watch the chaos unfold. Not willing to admit defeat, Lianna takes her portfolio and marches across the office to Owen, who simply holds up his hands and waves the pair of them away. This friendly banter usually continues until Marc gives in and today is no different. Eventually conceding, Marc reluctantly nods as Li lets out a whoop and dashes over to the whiteboard. Her cheers of glee ring around the office as she does her trademark celebratory dance around the easel.
When we first decided to try to make Suave ours, none of us really believed it would ever happen. There were so many hurdles to jump over, so much red tape to break through and so many people to convince that we could do this. There are days when I still have to pinch myself as I walk into the building. To be back here after all this time is still so surreal and to be here as a partner and not an employee is a feeling too special for words.
Miraculously, we pulled together to rescue the company and despite any initial reservations, things appear to be going rather well indeed. We’ve taken to our new positions like ducks to water and we’re all extremely optimistic that we can and will take Suave back to being the iconic fashion brand it once was.
Of course, no one can predict the future and there aren’t any guarantees that this is going to work out as we hope, but discovering if it does could be our best adventure yet…
If there were no bumps in the road, life would be an awfully dull journey…
Chapter 1
Staring at the blank computer screen, I tap my pen against the desk mindlessly and stifle yet another yawn. The silence is deafening as I look around the despondent office and sigh miserably. The phones are dead, the keyboards are quiet and judging by the glum faces staring back at me, my friends are as depressed as I am.
The first
hour of the day has become the most loathed for us all. To arrive at the office to no emails, no calls and no new orders is majorly disheartening. Any ounce of enthusiasm we manage to generate is quickly stamped out the second we realise that today is going to be just as awful as yesterday. The fact that we’re faced with another Monday just adds to the disappointment in the air. It’s a brand-new week, yet things are worse than the last.
‘It’s a terrible idea.’ Marc retorts irritably, pushing the pile of paperwork across his desk to Lianna. ‘Just like the rest of your amazing ideas.’
Snatching the printed documents before they can fall to the floor, Li throws her arms into the air. ‘Well, I don’t see you coming up with anything.’ Hastily rearranging her papers, Lianna shoots Marc daggers. ‘It’s your fault we’re in this mess, remember?’
‘And it’s your fault we can’t get out of it!’ Jabbing at his computer screen, Marc returns her daggers with a scowl of his own. ‘Some Marketing Manager you have turned out to be. You couldn’t sell a pole to a stripper…’
Recognising that things are about to escalate, I jump out from behind my desk and attempt to defuse the situation.
‘Come on, guys.’ I say light-heartedly, trying to breeze over the impending argument. ‘Turning on each other isn’t going to help things.’
Not listening to a single word I’m saying, Lianna’s brow furrows into a frown.
‘If he put as much time into the business as he does into doing his hair, maybe we wouldn’t be in this situation!’ She retorts, folding her arms like a petulant child as I position myself between them.
‘Well, if she wouldn’t have spilt red wine down Mr Willock’s five-hundred-pound shirt, maybe we would be able to pay people’s wages this month!’ Picking up a stapler, Marc launches it across the office in anger and I wince as it hits the stationery cupboard with a thud.
‘That’s enough!’ I yell, suddenly becoming rather angry myself. ‘We’re all living in this nightmare, not just you two.’ I look over at Vernon and Hugh and send them a mental SOS. ‘Right, guys?’
Frustratingly, Hugh simply shrugs his shoulders as Vernon silently holds his head in his hands. Annoyed that I’m not getting the support I need, I bite my lip and look around the office for inspiration. Spotting the calendar, I grin widely as an idea suddenly hits me. Swiftly running across the room, I grab a few notepads from the stationery cupboard and hand them around the group.
‘We’re looking at this all wrong.’ I stammer, trying to create some enthusiasm as I shove a box of pens towards Lianna. ‘It’s Monday, so let’s start the day with some Monday Motivation. We’ll all write down an inspirational quote and swap them with someone else’s!’
I look around the group and feel my heart drop as no one breathes a word. Determined to put an optimistic spin on things, I force myself to smile.
‘Oh, come on!’ I persist, attempting to keep a light tone to my voice. ‘Instead of yelling about how things are so horrendously awful right now, how about we focus on the things that are going well?’
A deafening silence comes back at me, until Li finally breaks it with an unimpressed scoff.
‘Clara, nothing is going well.’ Tossing her hair over her shoulder, she rests her hands on her hips and paces around the office in her black stilettos. ‘We haven’t had a new client sign with us in months, the ones we already have are dropping like flies and we’re in more debt now than when we took control of this place!’ Lianna takes a deep breath as Vernon places a hand on her back to calm her down. ‘Things couldn’t be any worse if we tried.’
‘She’s right.’ Marc exhales loudly and stuffs his hands into his trouser pockets. ‘Let’s face it, we’re screwed.’
Looking at their sad expressions, I feel an awful sadness wash over me. How did it come to this? Just a few months ago, we were walking on air. We were positive, we were enthusiastic and most importantly, we were happy. Fast-forward sixteen weeks and things are drastically different, to say the least. What started as a hopeful group of friends taking on an almighty project, soon evolved into a bunch of people who were well out of their depth. And to think it all started so beautifully…
‘Owen shall be here any second now.’ Hugh announces, effectively popping my thought bubble. ‘What the hell are we going to tell him? This company is dead in the water.’
Opening and closing my mouth repeatedly, I look to Marc and Lianna in the hope they have some secret plan up their sleeves to turn this around.
‘You remember what he said at the last meeting.’ Marc grumbles, playing with the tip of his tie. ‘Owen is around two weeks away from throwing in the towel.’
Before anyone can say another word, the door squeaks open and we all spin around expecting to see our good friend and chief investor.
‘Jeez! Who died?’ An all-too-familiar Texan drawl asks, causing me to groan under my breath.
Well, isn’t that just fantastic? If today wasn’t going to be bad enough already, I now have my audacious mother-in-law thrown into the mix. Rubbing my throbbing my temples, I flash Marc an apologetic smile as Janie, also known as the mother-in-law from hell, lets out a blood-curdling cackle.
‘Wow! You really are a happy bunch today, aren’t you?’ Janie persists, making a beeline for Vernon and immediately slithering up to him. ‘How about I give you something to smile about?’
As usual, Vernon looks away nervously as she shamelessly admires his biceps. Not caring in the slightest that she’s clearly making him feel uncomfortable, Janie smacks her pink lips together and twirls one of his dreadlocks around her finger mischievously. Poor Vernon. His chiselled jaw and impressive physique mean that he’s always the object of Janie’s desire.
Feeling Lianna’s eyes burning into me, I clear my throat and pull Janie into a quiet corner of the office.
‘What are you doing here?’ I hiss, trying to shield our conversation from the others. ‘How many times have I told you not to turn up here unannounced?’
Attempting to raise her Botox-frozen eyebrows, Janie rolls her eyes and pulls open a drawer marked private. ‘Will you relax? You’re gonna look like an elephant’s ass if you keep frowning like that.’
Batting her hands away, I feel my cheeks flush violently. ‘Can’t you read? That drawer is clearly labelled private!’
Laughing off my concerns, Janie hops onto Owen’s desk and checks out her talon-like manicure.
‘I’m being serious, Janie!’ Anger bubbles in my chest as she scours Owen’s drawers for his emergency bottle of cognac. ‘Owen is due to arrive for a meeting at any moment and he isn’t going to be very happy with what we have to tell him. If he finds you supping his Rémy Martin again, it isn’t going to help things one iota.’
Tucking her enormous chest into her tiny camisole, Janie purses her lips and picks up a calculator. ‘Who made you Queen of the World?’
Holding my head in my hands, I glance over my shoulder at the others and silently scream as I see they’ve returned to tearing chunks out of one another.
When Janie announced she was returning to the UK permanently, I was the first person to raise my concerns. After all, it’s no secret that we’ve nearly killed each other on numerous occasions, but after months of going back and forth across the pond, she finally decided that London was where she wanted to lay her hat.
Luckily, Oliver had the same reservations. He firmly insisted that his impudent mother had her own place and didn’t catapult herself into our lives like she did the last time. I have to confess, not discovering any late-night revellers in my spare room has been greatly appreciated. As has the absence of her many vibrators, which my son once mistook for a Bugs Bunny toy, but the less said about that the better.
Although this second attempt at having Janie in the country has most definitely worked out better than the last, it’s not exactly been plain sailing. Her lack of a job, a partner or literally anything to keep her occupied has resulted in her stumbling into the office at the most inconvenient of times.<
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Given Janie’s lonely living situation, you might think my attitude towards her is a little harsh. To fill your time with visits to your family’s workplace is hardly the worst crime in the world, but if you know Janie like I know Janie, you will fully understand my predicament. You see, Janie isn’t like any other mature lady I’ve ever met. Her obsession with stripper-esque clothing and plastic surgery make her the main focus in every room she sashays into and not in a positive way.
‘He’s here!’ Marc exclaims suddenly, causing the room to fall into a panicked silence as he hastily jumps away from the window. ‘Clara, get her out of here!’
‘You have to leave!’ I hiss, roughly shoving Janie off Owen’s desk and quickly reorganising his documents. ‘Please, Janie! Go!’
‘Alright! I’m going!’ Obviously hearing my desperation, she reluctantly agrees and bends down to pick up her leopard-print handbag. ‘But I’ll be back. Don’t think you can get rid of me that easily, lady!’
Hearing the lift doors ping open, my blood runs cold as Owen’s deep voice travels down the lobby. Not knowing what else to do, I throw open the stationery cupboard and swiftly push Janie inside.
‘Owen!’ I gush, forcing myself to beam brightly as I stand in front of the stationery cupboard and discreetly turn the lock. ‘How are you?’
Running a hand through his grey hair, Owen raises an eyebrow as he walks over to his desk. ‘That depends on what you have to tell me.’
The rest of us exchange worried glances as Vernon forces a cough to cover the almost comical sound of Janie struggling to break free. Looking over at Marc, I wince as Owen straightens his calculator and gives his drawers a suspicious look.
‘How many times have I told Belinda to lock these damn drawers when I’m not around?’ He complains, dumping his briefcase by his feet. ‘Remind me, what exactly are we paying her for again? This place looks like it hasn’t seen a duster in weeks.’
Great. The usually chirpy Owen has chosen today of all days to be a grumpy old grouch.
