Clara Bounces Back

by Lacey London

  ‘So, what do you have for me?’ He asks, leaning back in his seat and yawning loudly. ‘Come on, just hit me with it. I’ve got a meeting at the bank shortly.’

  Biting my nail nervously, I attempt a small smile and look away when Owen scowls back at me.

  ‘Please don’t tell me we’ve lost another one?’ He groans, tapping his foot impatiently. ‘That really would be the last straw.’

  My palms start to sweat as I realise how this conversation is going to end.

  Gingerly stepping forward, Marc takes a deep breath and brings up an email on his laptop. ‘We received this last night. I’ve tried to call and talk them around, but they’re not budging. Their mind is made up. They’re going with Ethereal.’

  ‘Ethereal?’ Owen repeats in confusion, pulling his glasses from his briefcase and squinting at the email. ‘Weren’t they once a client of ours?’

  I nod in response and try to regain the use of my tongue. ‘They were at one time, but they’ve since exploded in popularity and now they’re going international.’

  ‘And taking our customers with them…’ Owen adds, pushing away the laptop angrily. ‘This is not looking good.’

  My stomach churns as Owen stares back at us in a strained silence.

  ‘So, what are we going to do about it?’ Hugh asks, looking down at the ground and sighing heavily. ‘How do we turn this around?’

  ‘You tell me.’ Owen replies sternly, not missing a beat. ‘You’re the ones who are supposed to have the answers here. I’m just the guy with the cash.’ Moving his gaze around the group, he makes sure to hold eye contact with each one of us.

  Recognising the look of worry on his face, I am instantly hit with an all-encompassing sense of guilt. When we’re stressing out over figures and losing our tempers with one another, it’s easy to forget that we’ve only been given this incredible opportunity because of Owen’s extreme generosity. Without his enormous investment, owning Suave would have been nothing more than a pipe dream.

  ‘Look, I don’t want to fall out with anyone.’ Owen says decidedly, a serious tone to his voice that I haven’t heard before. ‘Before we got into this, we all agreed that we wouldn’t allow Suave to interfere with our friendships outside of the office. However, when I decided to do this for you, I was promised that you would do everything in your power to make this a success. Things started so well. Where did it all go wrong?’

  The five of us stand in front of him like naughty children and I rack my brains for the right thing to say. Where did it all go so spectacularly wrong? Just as Marc starts to speak, a muffled bang comes from the stationery cupboard and I’m suddenly reminded that Janie is still locked in there.

  ‘What was that?’ Owen asks, taking off his glasses and walking across the room. ‘It sounded like it came from the stationery cupboard.’

  Panic rises in my throat as I look at Lianna for help and thankfully, she comes to the rescue.

  ‘It’s a pigeon!’ She exclaims, diving in front of Owen and standing in his path. ‘We had the window open earlier and it flew straight it there!’

  ‘A pigeon?’ Owen repeats sceptically, reaching past her for the door handle. ‘Why is it still in there? Let the poor thing out…’

  Batting his hand away, Li laughs anxiously. ‘I wouldn’t go in there. It’s pretty vicious.’

  ‘Vicious?’ Taking a step back, Owen’s eyes widen as he looks at the stationery cupboard cautiously. ‘It’s a pigeon. How vicious could a damn pigeon be?’

  Right on cue, Janie kicks the door in anger and I stifle a giggle as Owen jumps back like a scared cat.

  ‘Incredibly vicious.’ Lianna whispers, nodding along animatedly. ‘We tried to get it out, but it just went crazy and attacked Marc. He nearly lost an eye. Didn’t you, Marc?’

  Owen looks over at Marc and lets out a little laugh. ‘Are you serious?’

  Rubbing his right eye, Marc blinks repeatedly and forces himself to wince. ‘Super serious. That thing is dangerous. We’ve called animal control. They should be here soon.’

  ‘It’s probably best to leave it to the experts.’ Ushering him away from the door, Lianna leads Owen back to his desk. ‘He’s already tried to take out Marc’s eye. Who knows what he will peck off next?’

  Finally giving in, Owen retreats to his seat and immediately snaps back into business mode.

  ‘Anyway, forget about the damn pigeon. At the end of the day, I’m an investor and if an investment isn’t working for me, I have to walk away.’ Pointing to the email in front of him, he turns Marc’s laptop around to face us. ‘Why are we losing clients like this? Whatever you are doing is quite obviously not working. So, if any of you have any ideas on how to turn this around, please say it now.’

  The atmosphere suddenly becomes unbearably heavy as Owen waits for us to respond.

  ‘We’re trying our hardest, Owen.’ Marc says sadly, grabbing a stash of folders from Lianna’s desk and flipping through the pages. ‘We’ve tried absolutely everything we can think of to generate more business, but no one is biting. At first, we spiked people’s interest because we were hot news. When the press covered our story, Suave was the name on everyone’s lips. Now that the hype has died down, so has the interest…’

  As much as I hate to admit it, Marc is right. The publicity from the possible liquidation of the company made us big news. Huge, in fact. Now that the press has moved on, so have any potential clients.

  ‘We need to bring something new to the table.’ Marc continues, smoothing down his crisp shirt. ‘Something different, something unique and something that is going to make people want to take a chance on us after the disaster that was the Giulia Romano collaboration.’

  Watching Marc talk, I find myself nodding along enthusiastically.

  ‘Whether it was a cheap publicity stunt or a stroke of bad luck, the release of that sex tape caused more damage to both her and us than you could ever believe.’ Pausing for breath, Marc motions to the doodle-covered whiteboard. ‘None of this is working. We have tried to carry on running the company like we did before, but it’s going to take more than that. Much more.’

  ‘I agree.’ Owen nods slowly and closes the laptop. ‘So, what do you suggest?’

  ‘I suggest another collaboration.’ Lianna says eagerly. ‘We need to hit them with something that no one is expecting. We need something that is going to make people sit up and take notice of us again…’ Her heels clack on the wooden floor as she marches around the room, like she always does when she’s brainstorming.

  Lianna’s face lights up with optimism and I automatically smile back at her. This is exactly what we needed! A positive mental attitude can change absolutely everything. If you can dream it, you can do it.

  Coming to a stop in front of Owen’s desk, Li proceeds with her pitch. ‘We need something that is going to reinvent us. Something that is as far away from Giulia Romano and her pierced clitoris as it could possibly be.’

  ‘And that is?’ Owen asks, leaning forward in his plush seat and staring at her expectantly.

  Lianna looks up at the ceiling for what feels like an eternity before finally exhaling. ‘I don’t know…’

  A groan echoes around the room as we finally allow ourselves to breathe again.

  ‘Listen, the bottom line is that I can’t keep pouring funds into a venture that is haemorrhaging money. I made it clear when we started this that I would have to pull the plug if things didn’t work out.’ Standing up, Owen reaches for his briefcase and groans as his back cracks loudly. ‘If you want to continue with my investment, you need to put your heads together and pull something out of the bag and you need to do it fast.’

  The rest of us nod in unison as he steps out from behind his giant desk.

  Turning his focus to me, he pauses as he heads for the door. ‘Where’s Oliver? I was expecting to see him here.’

  Tripping over my tongue, I stammer in my attempt to get the lie out. ‘He’s down in the studio. You know what he’s like when
he slips into his creative bubble.’

  I smile regretfully and hope Owen takes the bait. He doesn’t need to know that Oliver had to rush to the hospital because Noah shoved a marble up his nose.

  Watching Hugh try to convince Owen that we will salvage Suave before the bubble bursts for good, I purse my lips until he finally slips out of the office and disappears into the lift.

  ‘That was awful.’ Lianna whimpers, the second he is out of earshot. ‘What are we going to do?’

  ‘I don’t know.’ Marc replies on behalf of us all. ‘But we’re going to have to come up with something and we need to do it quickly…’

  His voice trails off as he is interrupted by yet more bangs from the stationery cupboard.

  ‘Janie!’ I whisper in horror, suddenly remembering that she is squashed into a tiny space with no window and no light.

  Dashing across the room, I jump back in fright as the pounding becomes louder and louder until the door crashes open and Janie lands in a heap on the floor.

  ‘Are you crazy?’ She screeches, jumping to her feet and dusting down her mini skirt. ‘What the hell do you think you’re doing? Locking me in a closet like a damn animal!’

  Covering my mouth to stop a giggle from escaping, I lean over and adjust her dishevelled blonde beehive. ‘I’m so sorry, but I couldn’t let Owen find you here again. You remember how angry he was the last time!’

  Holding up her hand to stop me mid-sentence, she shoots me a deathly stare. ‘You want me gone? Fine! I’ll go!’

  Marching past me, she throws open Owen’s drawers once more and grabs the bottle of Rémy Martin from behind the piles of paperwork.

  ‘And I’m taking this with me!’

  Chapter 2

  ‘Come on, let me see.’ I demand, collapsing onto the couch next to Oliver.

  Raising his head hesitantly, Oliver abandons his bottle of beer and tears his eyes away from the television. His left nostril is red and sore, but at least there’s no fluorescent marble lodged up there anymore.

  ‘Ouch!’ Kissing his stubble-clad cheek, I drape my legs over his. ‘Where is Noah? He normally comes to greet me when I arrive home from work.’

  ‘He’s in his room.’ Oliver growls, carefully dabbing his nose with a tissue and taking a gulp of beer. ‘And I’ll give you three guesses as to why.’

  Attempting to get up, I stop when Oliver pulls me back down. His eyes crinkle into his frown as he roughly brushes his dark curls away from his face. ‘Just leave him. He’s not coming out until he’s ready to apologise.’

  Not wanting to argue, I glance over at Noah’s bedroom door and nod in agreement. Oliver and I have had numerous rows recently over Noah’s bad behaviour and I really don’t want another one. We were warned about the terrible twos, but people failed to inform us about the fearless fours. Lately, Noah has had an answer for absolutely everything. Nothing can be asked of him without receiving a tantrum in response. I’ve tried telling myself that he’s just pushing the boundaries, but his behaviour seems to be spiralling out of control and with his fifth birthday coming up, I’m becoming increasingly concerned.

  Today’s marble incident is just the tip of the iceberg. Last week, he hacked off his own hair without explanation and the week before that, I caught him trying to sell Pumpkin to the postman. Now he’s stuffing marbles in people’s orifices! What’s next? A juvenile detention centre and a teardrop tattoo?

  ‘How did it even get up there?’ I whisper to myself quietly, stealing another glimpse at Oliver’s glowing nose.

  His cheeks flush with embarrassment as he pretends to be engrossed in the television. ‘Does it matter?’

  ‘Weirdly, yes.’ I reply, reaching for his beer bottle and taking a sip. ‘It does matter.’

  Roughly scratching his beard, Oliver scowls and shakes his head as he recalls the unfortunate incident.

  ‘It all started when I asked him to put his shoes on. No matter how many times I asked, he continued to play with his marbles and ignored every damn word I said. In the end, I sat him on my knee and told him I was gonna confiscate the marbles if he didn’t do as he was told.’

  Folding my arms, I frown as I try to picture the event unfolding in my mind. ‘What happened next? How did it escalate from a simple telling-off, to a visit to the hospital?’

  ‘So…’ Oliver continues, taking back his beer. ‘I made him hand over all the marbles he had. After I locked them away, I asked if he had anything to say for himself.’ Pausing awkwardly, he peers into his bottle before proceeding to peel off the label. ‘He nodded and reached up to hug me, but when I held my arms out, he pulled another marble from his pocket and shoved it right up my nose!’

  Blood rushes to Oliver’s face and I clasp my hand over my mouth to stop myself from laughing.

  ‘It’s not funny, Clara!’ He barks, touching his nose and wincing. ‘I had to sit in the emergency room for four hours, only to have a rather aggressive nurse shove a pair of tweezers up there!’

  A giggle escapes my lips and I attempt to disguise it behind a forced cough. Even after all these years, I still can’t take my husband’s American accent seriously when he’s angry.

  ‘You can laugh, but he’s nearly five years old.’ Oliver stuffs a cushion behind his head and glares at me. ‘He needs to quit acting out.’

  ‘You’re right. You’re totally right. His behaviour is completely unacceptable, but you have to see the funny side.’ Tickling his side to get a reaction, I grin back at him when he finally curls his lip into a tiny smile.

  Noah’s bad behaviour might be a little worrying, but the last thing I want is to allow it to cause a rift between the two of us. He’s been incredibly mischievous lately and we have absolutely no idea why. He’s disciplined, but not regimented. He’s rewarded, but not spoilt. We have strived to give him the perfect family environment, so why is he playing up like this? What has happened to my adorable little boy? The child who would fall asleep on my chest and beg me to read him just one more bedtime story seems a distant memory. In his place is an angry youngster who seems intent on causing chaos wherever he goes.

  ‘How did you get on with Owen?’ Oliver asks, bringing me back down to earth.

  ‘It was awful.’ I admit honestly, recalling our conversation with Owen earlier. ‘He’s ready to walk and I don’t blame him. I just don’t know what we’re going to do.’ Sighing sadly, I snuggle into Oliver’s warm chest. ‘With the twins being just three months old, Owen has enough on his plate. He could really do without worrying about Suave right now.’

  Oliver nods in agreement, the same strained look on his face that the rest of us had at the office.

  ‘Can you believe how confident we were at Christmas?’ He mumbles. ‘Back then, it just seemed so easy. Save the company from administration, recruit new clients and turn a profit. How were we so naïve?’

  Sadness fills my heart as I think back to the Floral Fizz Christmas party. When Owen announced that the chairman had accepted our offer to purchase the company, I was completely and utterly overjoyed. It was a feeling I will remember forever, although the magic of the moment is fading with each day that passes. The further into the red we fall, the weaker the memory becomes.

  ‘Your delightful mother gate-crashed the office again today.’ I say quietly, trying to change the subject. ‘You have to put a stop to this. No one wants to see her draped across their desk first thing in the morning.’

  A look of annoyance flashes across his face, before he corrects it with a nod of the head. ‘I’ll sort it, but I’d rather have been there with her than in the emergency room having tweezer stuffed up my nose.’

  ‘I’m sure it was an accident…’ I tease, already knowing that he isn’t ready to laugh about it just yet.

  Not surprisingly, he shoots me a scowl and I glance over at Noah’s room once more. Unable to resist checking on him, I wiggle out of Oliver’s grip and head across the apartment to his bedroom. Lightly knocking on the door, I push my way inside and scan
the football-inspired room for my son. These days, if it doesn’t involve a ball, a referee or eleven blokes in shorts, Noah isn’t interested in it. There was a time when he was just as obsessed with dinosaurs, but those days are long gone.

  Quickly finding him on his bed, playing football trivia cards with a clueless Pumpkin, I smile to myself and make my way over to him.

  ‘Get out, Mum!’ He yells suddenly, causing me to physically jump. ‘This is a girl-free zone!’

  Deciding not to point out that Pumpkin is also a girl, I place my hands on my hips and raise my eyebrows. ‘Well, mums don’t count as girls, so I think I will be okay.’

  ‘No!’ Tugging the duvet over his head, he throws his playing cards on the floor, leaving a bewildered Pumpkin to try to dig him out from beneath the sheets.

  Treading carefully, I gingerly take a seat next to him and tap the duvet. ‘Can you come out, please? I want to talk to you about what happened with your dad today.’

  The hump beneath the sheet freezes and I give him a prod. ‘Come on. We need to have a little chat.’

  Waiting for him to respond, I reach down and stroke Pumpkin’s soft fur. Her brown eyes shine as her tail wags manically, grateful to have just a few moments of attention.

  Eventually sticking his head out, Noah makes sure to scowl at me before turning to face the wall.

  ‘Well?’ I press, picking up the cards that are scattered around the carpet. ‘Are you going to tell me what happened?’

  ‘No!’ He fires back, his face red with fury. ‘Just go away!’

  ‘I suggest you go and apologise to your dad. He’s really upset with you after your behaviour this morning.’ Clearly processing what I’m saying, Noah’s bottom lip starts to tremble. ‘What you did was extremely dangerous. It’s not funny and it’s not clever. I want you to apologise or I am going to confiscate your computer games.’ Studying his face, I quickly look around the room for inspiration. ‘And your football.’

  Burying his face into Pumpkin’s fur, Noah rolls onto his side and grumbles under his breath.