by Lacey London
Once Owen knows, we will just have to deal with it. We will just have to accept it for what it is, dust ourselves down and keep pushing forward. Businesses go bust all the time, don’t they? People lose their jobs, some even lose their homes, but the world keeps on spinning and life goes on.
Hearing Noah throwing a tantrum in the living room, I force myself to pull the plug and grab a fluffy towel from the rack. One area of my life might have fallen to pieces, but my motherly duties are still alive and kicking.
Listening to the chaos unfold, I twist my hair into a bun and quickly swap my towel for a dressing gown. The noise becomes louder as I open the bedroom door and stride into the living room.
‘What’s going on out here?’ I ask, walking around the couch to reveal a very guilty-looking Noah sat cross-legged on the floor.
‘Pumpkin did it.’ He grumbles, pointing at the wall behind him. ‘Dad doesn’t believe me, but she did.’
Following his finger, I let out a gasp as my gaze lands on the black scribbles. ‘Noah!’ I yell, dashing into the kitchen and grabbing a scouring pad. ‘What have you done?’
‘It wasn’t me!’ He wails, turning his back to me. ‘I already told you it was Pumpkin!’
Frantically scrubbing the wall, I look up as Oliver reaches down to help me to my feet. ‘Just leave it. I’ve already tried that. It’s going to need repainting.’
Groaning as I stand up straight, I hold out my hand for Noah’s. ‘Why are you doing this?’
Defiantly snatching his arm away, Noah runs to his bedroom and slams the door behind him. Taking the hint that trouble is on the horizon, Pumpkin tucks her tail between her legs and retreats to the couch.
‘What are we going to do with him?’ I whimper, resting my head on Oliver’s chest. ‘This has gone one for long enough. I really thought he was improving.’
Staring at the ruined paintwork, Oliver shakes his head slowly. ‘When I collected him from Gina’s earlier, she mentioned that he had been playing up there, too.’
‘What did she say?’ I ask, lifting my head.
‘She thinks he’s feeling a little left out.’ Oliver explains, bending down and gathering Noah’s crayons from the floor. ‘Apparently, he told her that he wanted his chickenpox back.’
Kicking a blue pen towards him, I grab the box and hold it open. ‘Why would he say that?’
‘His exact words were, I want my chickenpox back so that I can stay at home and play with my dad.’ Oliver scratches his stubble and throws the final crayon into the box. ‘He went on to say that no one plays with him anymore, because we’re always at work.’
His words hit me like a lightning bolt as my stomach churns with guilt. As much as I don’t want to admit it, Noah is completely right. With the chaos of Suave taking over our lives, his playtime has gradually gone out of the window. Slowly, but surely, the amount of time we have spent enjoying our son has dwindled. We have put the business before everything and for what? It has all boiled down to nothing.
‘That changes right now.’ I say sternly, trying to stop my voice from cracking. ‘Everything else might be falling apart, but I will be damned if I let Noah suffer, too.’
Oliver nods in agreement and pulls me towards him. ‘Don’t get upset. We tried our best with Suave and if our best isn’t good enough, so be it. When all is said and done, it was just a job.’
Allowing myself to silently cry into his shirt, I close my eyes as tears slip down my cheeks.
‘The most important job we will ever do, will take place within these four walls.’ Oliver whispers, as he holds me closely. ‘It’s time to focus on what’s really important and be done with all the rest…’
Chapter 29
‘Rise and shine, Noah Ernest Morgan!’ Planting a kiss on his warm cheek, I slip under his duvet and whistle for Pumpkin to join me.
Sleepily rubbing his eyes, Noah buries his face into the pillow as Pumpkin jumps onto the bed and curls up next to him.
‘What are you doing?’ He groans, stretching out his arms above his head like his dad, as I tickle him under the chin.
‘I’m getting you up!’ I sing, brushing his hair out of his face. ‘Because today is going to be a very exciting day…’
Unable to hide his intrigue, Noah rolls onto his stomach and looks up at me curiously. ‘Why?’
‘Because today is going to be a Noah Day.’ I whisper, grinning widely. ‘And that means we can anything you want to do. You call the shots all day long.’
‘Anything?’ Squinting as I lean across him and pull back the curtains, he looks up at me in awe.
‘Anything!’ Standing up, I clap my hands together as Pumpkin rests her chin on his lap. ‘And that starts with breakfast. So, what’s it going to be?’
‘Pancakes!’ He yells, cheering with glee.
‘Pancakes it is.’ Letting out a laugh at his ecstatic response, I ruffle his hair and pull my dressing gown tightly around my body. ‘Do you want to help me make them?’
Not hesitating for a second, Noah throws back the sheets and dives out of bed. Allowing him to jump onto my back, I wander into the kitchen and gather our supplies on the counter. Tugging over a stool for Noah, I flick on the radio as he jumps to the ground.
‘Alright, first things first.’ I say, grabbing an apron from the pantry. ‘What are we having on these pancakes?’
Looking deep in thought, Noah sticks out his tongue as he considers his options. ‘Strawberries!’
Pulling open the fridge, I’m happy to see that we still have a punnet of strawberries left over from the weekly food shop.
‘Do you require chocolate with these strawberries?’ Quickly rinsing them, I pour the red fruit onto the chopping board.
‘Chocolate? For breakfast?’ Spinning around to face me, Noah’s covers his mouth with his hand. ‘Is it Christmas?’
‘No, it’s not Christmas.’ I take a tub of chocolate spread out of the cupboard and giggle to myself as Noah’s eyes light up. ‘But like I said before, today is Noah Day and it’s all about you.’
Jumping up and down on his stool, Noah takes a strawberry from the pile and dips it into the chocolate. ‘Is Dad coming to Noah Day?’
‘Unfortunately, not. Dad has to work. Today is just about you and me.’ Pouring the pancake mix into the pan, I dance around the kitchen as upbeat music floods out of the radio.
‘Pumpkin, too?’ Noah asks hopefully, discreetly passing her a strawberry under the counter.
Pretending not to notice, I dip my finger into the chocolate and flash him a wink. ‘Yes, Noah. Pumpkin, too…’
* * *
Watching Noah and Pumpkin race into the water, I fall back onto the sand and allow the waves to wash over my toes. The wind has a brisk chill as it rushes through my hair, but I couldn’t care less. Since the moment we left the house this morning, Noah hasn’t stopped smiling and neither have I. Sand is everywhere. It’s in my hair, it’s in my shoes, it’s even been in my eyes, but I’ve loved every single second.
Once we had devoured our pancakes, Noah requested that we come to the beach and I couldn’t have picked a better location myself. Despite the long drive to get here, he hasn’t complained once. There’s something about being by the ocean that is so liberating. It cleanses your mind and breathes life back into parts of you that have felt dead for so long. Being out of the city has given us both a much-needed chance to rejuvenate and it feels so good.
A wave laps against the shore, causing me to squeal as cold water splashes against my knees. Turning away from the wind, I fill my lungs with salty sea air and take in the scene in front of me. The beach is pretty much deserted. Apart from an elderly couple walking along the shore, we are completely alone. I did worry that Noah would be bitterly disappointed when he discovered that British beaches aren’t always basking in glorious sunshine like they are in the Caribbean, but his adorable smile hasn’t stopped sparkling since he jumped out of the car.
Looking at him now, as he splashes around in the water
with Pumpkin by his side, all signs of the angry little boy back at the apartment have vanished. He seems so happy and full of life. Two things that every child should be, regardless of what else is going on in their parent’s lives.
‘Mummy!’ He shouts suddenly, waving his arms around to get my attention. ‘Come here!’
Pushing myself up, I pad across the sand and roll up my jeans.
‘Look at Pumpkin!’ Noah yells, shielding his eyes from the splashing water. ‘She’s chasing the waves!’
Barking as she goes, Pumpkin charges into the water and snaps at the tip of a wave, before racing back to the safety of the sand as the ocean rushes after her.
‘She’s silly!’ Flicking droplets of water into the air, Noah giggles as they land on his face.
‘She’s very silly!’ Rinsing the sand from my hands, I glimpse at my watch. ‘Are you ready to head home now?’
Noah’s face falls ever so slightly as he brushes back his hair and looks up at me. ‘Already?’
‘We’ve been here for three hours!’ I reply, taking a bobble from my wrist and twisting my hair into a ponytail. ‘But that doesn’t mean Noah Day is over just yet. You can choose whatever you want for dinner. Just like breakfast.’
Looking along the pier, Noah’s eyes widen as he spots a fish and chip restaurant looking over the water.
‘Can we have fish and chips?’ He asks quietly, knowing that he’s pushing his luck after the mountain of chocolate he consumed for breakfast.
‘Hmm…’ Pretending to chew over his request, I purse my lips thoughtfully. ‘I don’t know if that’s a good idea after all the junk you have eaten today.’
‘Please?’ He persists, holding his hands together in a prayer pose. ‘It’s Noah Day!’
Picking up Pumpkin’s ball, I throw it along the sand and watch her charge after it. ‘Oh, go on then!’
‘Yay!’ Noah cheers, running through the water and jumping into my arms. ‘This is the best day ever!’
Nuzzling my face into his neck, I kiss the top of his head and squeeze him tightly. ‘Yes, it is, Noah. Yes, it is…’
Chapter 30
Usually, our mornings at Suave start with a coffee and a quick chat over the itinerary, but today couldn’t have been more different. When I arrived at the office, the radio was off, the laptops were closed and the whiteboards had been erased. All evidence of Suave had been removed and in their place was a cold, empty and soulless building. I haven’t mentioned the inevitable and neither has any of the others, but we don’t need to. Sometimes, remaining silent reveals more than any words could possibly say.
Pulling out a chair at the boardroom table, I shoot Lianna a tiny smile as Marc strides into the room. Reaching for Oliver’s hand beneath the table, I give it a little squeeze as Marc clears his throat loudly.
‘I can’t quite believe it has come to this.’ He starts, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. ‘I’ve fought this for weeks, we all have, but I think you’re all aware of what I’m going to say next.’
Marc moves his gaze from one person to the next, until he has locked eyes with everyone in the room.
‘We’ve tried everything, but despite this, the company is in catastrophic amounts of debt and falling deeper every day. I could go into more detail, but I’m sure we’re all fully aware of the state this business is in.’ Marc’s voice wobbles slightly and he takes a moment to compose himself.
Resisting the urge to run over and hug him, I swallow repeatedly to stop myself from bursting into tears.
‘I am of the strong belief that the time has come to walk away. I just need to know that you guys feel the same way I do before I make this official.’ Marc takes a deep breath and rests his hands on the back of a chair. ‘By a show of hands, can we please have a vote on how we wish to proceed? If you are of the opinion that it’s time to call it quits, please make yourself known.’
After months of ups and downs, a roller-coaster of emotions and a bloody lot of work, this is what it all comes down to, a simple show of hands. Slowly lifting my head, I glance around the table and feel my heart drop when Vernon is the first to raise his hand.
‘I hate to do this, but I’ve run many successful businesses in the past and without a major deal in the pipeline, Suave is doomed.’ Vernon says regrettably. ‘I vote out.’
‘Me too.’ Lianna whispers, holding up her hand sadly. ‘Ianthe was our last hope.’
Marc nods solemnly and looks over at Hugh. ‘Hugh?’
Rubbing his temples, Hugh shakes his head and looks down at the table. ‘I’m sorry. I really thought we could do this, but I see no future here. I’m out.’
Moving his gaze to Oliver, Marc folds his arms and waits for him to speak.
‘I don’t even know what to say.’ Sighing heavily, Oliver looks around the room dejectedly. ‘Not a single part of me wants to walk away, but without any clients, there just isn’t anything left to work with. We’re clutching at straws…’
Sadness washes over me as I watch Oliver’s hand rise into the air.
‘I can’t believe we’re giving up on Suave.’ I whisper, my chest becoming tight with emotion. ‘I just can’t.’
Sorrow fills the room as I hold my head in my hands, not daring to look up in case I burst into floods of tears.
‘That’s it then.’ Marc confirms, his voice thick with grief. ‘We’re all in agreement. Owen is coming in tomorrow morning. That’s when we’ll tell him.’
‘What if we can turn this around before then?’ I ask desperately, much to the amusement of the others. ‘If, by some miracle, we manage to secure a big deal before Owen arrives tomorrow, would you all vote differently?’
‘We won’t secure a deal.’ Marc says, removing a final mark from the whiteboard. ‘It’s impossible.’
‘Nothing is impossible.’ I reply, my heart racing as the others stare back at me. ‘Just for argument’s sake, would you vote differently if we secured a huge deal?’
Lianna is the first to nod, before the rest of the group join in.
With a sudden determination, I push out my chair and scramble around the table. ‘Marc, may I be excused for the rest of the day?’
‘I appreciate your enthusiasm, Clara. No one can accuse you of not being optimistic to the very end.’ Marc smiles sadly and gives my shoulder a squeeze as I brush past him. ‘If it will make you feel better, you can have the rest of the day off. After all, there’s nothing left for us to do now…’
Not sticking around to hear another word, I flee from the office as Marc’s voice follows me into the lobby.
‘Just don’t waste your time chasing a dream that has already died! We will be informing Owen of our decision first thing tomorrow morning…’
Chapter 31
Coming to a stop outside the striking pink door, I rap on the knocker and bite my lip impatiently. My chest is burning from running and my heart is pounding due to being forced into actual exercise. Trying to steady my breathing, I lean against the wall and wipe my sweaty forehead. If Janie isn’t here, I’ve almost killed myself in the hurried dash across the city for absolutely nothing.
Knocking again, I press my ear to the door and jump back when it suddenly springs open.
‘What are you doing here?’ Janie barks, resting her hand on her hip and looking me up and down. ‘What the hell do you want?’
‘It’s nice to see you, too.’ I reply, gently pushing past her into the apartment. ‘Can’t a girl call on her mother-in-law without having an ulterior motive?’
Closing the door with her bum, Janie follows me into the living room. ‘Just get to the point and get to it quick.’
Plastering my best smile onto my face, I wander around the bar and take a seat on the couch. ‘Alright, I do have a reason for being here and that’s to ask you for a favour…’
‘A favour?’ Janie repeats, immediately scowling. ‘I’m still dealing with the aftermath of the last favour you asked of me.’
Feeling blood rush to my face, I
grab a cushion and rest it on my lap.
‘It’s kind of the same favour.’ I explain, hoping that she doesn’t show me the door. ‘I want to talk about Stelios…’ My eyes land on a gold medallion on the bedroom door handle and I feel my stomach churn. ‘He isn’t here, is he?’
Janie narrows her eyes at me suspiciously and slips the gold chain over her head. ‘No, he isn’t.’
‘Great, that makes what I’m about to ask a whole lot easier.’ Breathing a sigh of relief, I kick off my shoes and curl up on the couch.
‘Oh, Lord!’ Visibly grimacing, Janie takes a plastic bottle from the fridge and motions to the balcony. ‘Let’s sit outside. For once, the sun is shining in this damn country.’
Tracing her steps out onto the veranda, I take a seat on a bean bag and steady myself on the railing.
‘These are new.’ I muse, wondering why on earth she swapped her beautiful patio furniture for a set of oversized bean bags. ‘Where did these come from?’
‘They were a gift.’ Running her fingers over the canvas fabric, Janie grins and pours out two small measures from the plastic bottle. ‘As was this.’
Pulling one of the glasses towards me, I follow Janie’s lead and throw it back in one swift gulp. Immediately gagging, I clasp my hand over my mouth to stop myself from hurling.
‘What the hell is that?’ I whimper, snatching the bottle and searching for a label. ‘It tastes like paint stripper!’
Cackling loudly, Janie takes back the bottle and pours herself another shot. ‘It’s raki. Stelios starts every day with a glass of this stuff. Which is probably why he looks so damn good for his age.’
Resisting the urge to tell her that unless Stelios is two hundred years old he certainly does not look good for his age, I decide to breeze straight past it.
