The Rules of the Game
D’Arth Series Book 1
By Camille Oster
Copyright 2012 Camille Oster
All rights reserved.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the work of the author's imagination, or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, locales, or events is entirely coincidental.
Acknowledgements:
To Tina, Milette and Moira for their help.
Camille Oster - Author
http://www.facebook.com/pages/Camille-Oster/489718877729579
@Camille_Oster
[email protected]
Chapter 1
Auckland, New Zealand
“I’ll be two minutes,” Jane said to the bored girl standing next to her desk twirling a pen between her fingers. “I just have to send this email.”
“Don’t be late,” the girl said and walked off, teetering on high heels. Dress standards were high at their firm, and more so of late as everyone wanted to put their best foot forward with all the changes going on—including the invariable jostling for positions that came with a merger. Jane tucked her blond hair behind her ear and typed as fast as she could.
This was the opportunity of a lifetime for Jane Burrows, to be assigned as a performance monitor for the merger between Symax and Contil corporations. This kind of promotion didn’t come along for everyone. It had been her good relationship with her boss, Edmund Carmichael, that had led to it. She had gone from his assistant to an analyst role—not just any analyst role, a role that had a bit of clout. Edmund Carmichael had placed her in the new organisation to be his eyes and ears; to ensure the merger was going as planned, and that the family business and name was being treated in the way he wanted.
After a rather distressing stint as an entry level planning officer at the local council, Jane had been hired as the elderly man’s assistant two years ago, shortly after she’d graduated with her Masters in Communications. Entering the corporate world of Contil had been quite a readjustment, but her boss had been kind and he appreciated the effort she’d put into her work.
She was running late for a meeting with the department heads to discuss one of their main accounts. Within this meeting, she wasn’t a main player, but she would be there in the background—listening and observing on behalf of her old boss who still had a prominent position on the Board. Everyone knew of her special relationship with Mr. Carmichael, but officially her job was to be a Corporate Performance Monitor.
Smoothing out the creases on her skirt, she rushed into the elevator that zipped her upstairs to the floor where the department heads met.
The meeting was just starting and she gingerly slid into the room as the door was closing. Taking a seat down the table, in the place that she determined was as unobtrusive as possible, she felt the eyes of Damon D’Arth on her as she quietly folded back the cover on her iPad. He stood in front of the meeting, commanding the attention of everyone.
She briefly met the eyes of the handsome dark-blond man before returning her attention to her tablet. His look was stoic. “Glad you could join us,” he said in a matching tone. She blushed, knowing full well that he wasn’t glad. He’d never been glad about her presence. It was just a consequence of her position; she tried not to take it personally.
Jane knew there were meetings that she was not invited to because of who she reported to. She also knew that she wouldn’t have been invited to this meeting either if Mr. Carmichael hadn’t insisted on her inclusion.
“Now let’s talk about Singapore,” Damon said and started the meeting. There was a new opportunity developing in Singapore—a bridge linking one of the small islands to the main island—an important project for the land-sparse country and there was fierce competition for the contract. Being responsible for the business development for the entire South East Asian region, Damon was in charge of winning this contract.
The planning meeting went on for two hours before they broke for lunch. Jane had been so busy this morning she hadn’t even had time to eat breakfast, which meant she couldn’t skip lunch even if she wanted to.
“Want to get some Japanese with me?” Angelica asked, standing up to look over the partition separating their desks.
“Sure. I’m game,” Jane said and put her things down on her desk. There was a little Japanese restaurant down the road they sometimes went to. It was tiny, but the food was fantastic if you could get a seat.
Walking briskly down the street, Jane felt the last of the summer warmth leaving the city.
“Were you in the Singapore meeting?” Angelica asked.
“Yes, just about all morning.”
“He’s so hot.” Jane knew exactly who Angelica was talking about—Damon D’Arth. He had features that would make a modelling agent drool, along with most of the office girls. Probably because he dressed really well, with clothes that screamed of success and confidence. Actually everything about him screamed confidence; the way he walked, his deep voice, and probably even his car, which was some fancy model Jane hadn’t really bothered looking too close at.
Jane could see why the office girls liked him; he was attractive, she guessed, if you were into that kind of thing. Maybe she’d even like him too if it wasn’t for the fact that he definitely didn’t like her. She might even go so far as to say he loathed her.
Sure, he was attractive on a superficial level, but not in the way that made her go weak at the knees. Not that the office girls had a chance with him; he dated society girls—or models. Often pictured in the society news looking bored with some gorgeous girl from the right background draped on his arm.
“He’s alright,” she conceded quietly, more in an effort to not engage on the subject. They ordered and squeezed into two seats at the bar looking out the window of the tiny restaurant.
“This is how most restaurants are in Japan,” Angelica said. “I went there when I was backpacking around Asia a couple of years ago. Would you believe that a can of coke cost me five dollars? It was just ridiculously expensive—but worth it. I’d love to go again, some time.”
“I’ve never been,” Jane admitted. She hadn’t travelled much other than to Australia and Fiji on family holidays growing up.
“You should go; it’s a mind-blowing experience. You don’t quite realise how different a culture can be until you go somewhere like Japan,” Angelica said. “So are you going to be working on the Singapore thing?”
“Probably, in some capacity. I’m not quite sure.”
“That would be so cool. I’m still on the Blenheim account—the most boring account in the company. I swear I’m going to be working on that bloody project until I retire. It’s not like there’s anything to do—the school’s already built. I’m just stuck cleaning up the mess that everyone else left behind. Dull, dull, dull,” she confided. Angelica could talk anyone’s ear off, which was why Jane couldn’t handle going to lunch with her every day. “Maybe you’ll get to go to Singapore. That would be so awesome. The shopping is the best. Well, maybe not for you as you’re quite tall. Everything fit me perfectly.”
“I doubt they’ll send me.”
“I wouldn’t mind spending a week in Singapore with Damon D’Arth,” Angelica continued, almost singing his name. “Did you see who he’s dating? Gabrielle Swanson. She is stunning.”
Jane rolled her eyes, wishing they could talk about something else. Even Angelica’s backpacking adventures were better than this. “He’d better hang onto this one; he’s running out of models and society girls to date.”
“I don’t know,” Angelica laughed,
“a new crop comes on the scene every year.”
“Okay, that just sounds creepy.” Actually, she had no qualms about cultivating a view that Damon D’Arth was creepy. It would be good if she could think it creepy when he pinned her with that disapproving gaze she couldn’t help being unnerved by. Creepy would be good, maybe a word to explain how everything was so perfect for him. His career had been stellar and now he’d taken on a larger role in the new company formed through this merger. Management had begged him to take over the most strategic accounts.
She, on the other hand, had caught a lucky break when Edmund Carmichael had promoted her. Maybe not everyone would see it as a lucky break, but she did. She hadn’t exactly had lots of them—certainly not in her personal life. She wouldn’t admit it, but she’d kind of given up on guys and had gotten herself a cat—a scrappy little tabby that guarded her little flat in one of the inner suburbs.
She hadn’t had a boyfriend in over three years. Her last relationship had taken the wind out of her sails. Mark had left—stormed out one night after accusing her of being boring. It had completely knocked her confidence, at least until she’d run into him one night on her way home after some drinks with the office girls. He was with his new girlfriend—a sour looking girl, covered in piercings and tattoos, and sporting a severe black haircut reminiscent of some 1950’s porn star. It had actually made her feel better; the accusation of being boring was now relative to his obviously extreme interpretation.
She’d taken it as a personal character fault until she’d realised that she was the normal one out of the two of them—he was the one with issues. He was the one who had been cruel and unkind because of his inner unhappiness, while she’d done nothing to deserve his contempt. The accusation was still hard to shake though; it had hurt deeply to be rejected in such a way.
The truth was that she didn’t feel in any hurry to get into another relationship. Her friends had tried to set her up, but she wasn’t interested. She certainly didn’t want to go through all that again in a hurry. She wanted to be sure it was right the next time. It had taken three years and counting to get over it the last one. There was the two week thing she’d had with that stock broker, but it had ended quickly after a revealing incident with a waiter, where his unpleasant underlying character had shown itself.
Now she was focused on her career. It was extremely important that she do a good job and to prove that Mr. Carmichael’s faith in her hadn’t been misplaced.
*
Stepping off the train into the chilly autumn morning, Jane followed the sparse crowd of early rises up the street from the train station. It would likely be warm during the day, but this early in the morning, it was cold. She was heading to the breakfast meeting with Edmund Carmichael every Tuesday morning at a hotel in the city, where she knew he held many of his business meetings. It was the kind of breakfast she could never wrap her mind around forking out for on her own, but for Mr. Carmichael, it was standard. It was an amazing breakfast with as much choice as one could wish for.
“Now, how are things going?” he asked as they were settled at his customary table. Edmund Carmichael was a creature of habit. A kind man, who was meticulous about his dress and style. He liked wearing a bow tie, which made him look a little old-fashioned. His white hair was always finely barbered; she’d never seen it look so much as a few millimetres too long. Some people made the mistake of underestimating him; they also made the mistake of thinking his soft speech and politeness constituted weakness. She knew full well that he could be absolutely ruthless when the occasion called for it. A mistake she would never make, but she was wary of why he’d chosen her to be on his team, because she didn’t have that capacity for ruthlessness.
Jane proceeded to tell him about the goings-on in the office, as well as about the company’s decision to pursue the contract in Singapore. He already knew that, but she went over the details as far as she knew.
“That’s an interesting project,” Edmund said. “I did some work with some of the Singaporean Ministries back in the eighties. They like to run a tight ship. I am assuming Damon is heading the bid.”
“Yes,” Jane confirmed. Edmund stared out the window for a while as he did when he was contemplated something.
“It could be a lucrative contract, more importantly it could lead to bigger projects. I believe they have some extensive land development projects coming up. Damon must be aware of this.”
“I’m sure.”
“He is a cool operator. Clever. You should watch him.”
“I try to. He is wary of me.”
“That is understandable,” Edmund said. “Irrespective, I want you to keep close tabs on this project.”
Jane nodded and tried to work out how she could do that. It would be nice if her oversight activities would fit neatly into her official job description, but sometimes more involvement was required. In truth, she hated the politics. They were all on the same team; all this in-fighting and suspicion was unnecessary—they were all trying to achieve the same thing, after all. She used to truly believe that, before the reality of the business world had sunken in. While all officially on the same team, alliances and agendas swayed people’s decisions. Sometimes it felt like a battle field; there were people who were out to hurt her, not physically, but they were out to discredit and undermine her. Damon was definitely one of them. She didn’t have the luxury of just keeping her head down and getting on with her work; she was deeply entrenched in one camp—a powerful camp, and one that wasn’t trusted by others. This was her job and it was the fantastic opportunity that had been given to her; she just hadn’t expected it to be so hard.
*
Mentally prepared for another day, she stepped out of the elevator on her floor. The sun was streaming into the office as the morning bustle started. She walked past Damon D’Arth’s office, but as usual, he wasn’t there first thing in the morning. Never the first to arrive nor the last to leave. Believing time slaving at your desk sent a message of importance and dedication was a rookie mistake; it gave the impression you weren’t coping.
Damon D’Arth was hardly ever slaving away at his computer. He was out at meetings, long lunches and probably the occasional golf round. That was where real business was done. Not that she could get away with that; she needed to be at her computer, analysing, writing, and emailing. She needed to slave away to keep up and to ensure she made no mistakes. Mistakes are deadly in this environment. They were the key to your undoing and Damon, although first in the line, was not the only one looking for one. No, Damon had Sarah for that kind of thing, his personal assistant. If you wanted to get to Damon, you had to go through Sarah and she could be tougher than him, all things considered. Sarah looked at you like she was gauging how big of an idiot you were.
Luckily, Jane had a fairly good working relationship with Sarah, having worked hard to keep on her good side even through difficult challenges. Jane would have to say that she insisted, which was code for Mr. Carmichael insisted. Sarah had a great deal of power, but Mr. Carmichael was one of the few people she would not overrule, which meant that Jane could not be overruled.
“Jane,” Sarah called as Jane walked past. “Should I send you an invite to the Singapore planning session this afternoon?” Sarah was really asking to what degree Jane would be involved in the whole process. Her answer would send a few messages about Edmund Carmichael’s interest in the project.
“Yes, I think that would be best.”
Sarah nodded and Jane kept walking, feeling Damon’s PA’s eyes on her back. The message had been sent and she could imagine Damon D’Arth would not be happy when he found out. Then again, he was never happy as far as Jane was concerned.
Jane busied herself with an evaluation report she was supposed to complete before lunch. Something caught her attention and she looked up as Damon walked into the office. Chewing on the end of her pen, she watched as he strode to his desk and took off his camel hair coat while doing his morning rundown with Sarah. She had
no idea what they talked about, but she watched as he discussed team business with his PA. They were talking quietly and intently, then he looked up and over at her, his eyes hard. Jane blushed and rushed to seem intently busy with her work. He’d obviously been told she’d invited herself to the in-depth planning meetings. When she looked up again, he’d disappeared into his office.
*
Damon settled himself at his desk. The Singapore bid loomed—a large piece of work and it would take up more resources than he had. Things weren’t helped by the fact that Edmund Carmichael was scrutinizing every step. His spectre hung around like a menacing shadow. The man looked like a pushover, but he had true power—power that reached everywhere in this city.
Time was of the essence and he didn’t have time to deal with this. Carmichael’s presence had to be tolerated, through the non-descript girl acting as his agent. They’d finally winged an invite into the bidding process, but it meant a late entry and they now had a mountain of work to get through. He had to pull in some resources, needing experts on this deal and he wanted to get hold of the best.
First, a first rate project manager; someone who could handle the pressure and pull together a decent bid out of this company. Damon knew exactly who he wanted, but he’d need to steal him away from some telecoms project in Melbourne. It would cost a bit, but you had to pay to get the best, and it was worth it. He, himself, needed to focus on the board, which needed to make some quick decisions to get this bid into shape. This meant Damon had to work on some of the trickier members.
This tiresome girl was only going to get in the way, but Carmichael insisted. He would just have to ignore her and get on with it. Hopefully, she would be wise enough to stay out of his way. He did not have the will to deal with some jumped-up office girl.
He knew full well that he intimidated her. Her discomfort was obvious, but he had to give her credit for not quitting yet. As it stood, things were likely to get rougher for her. He wasn’t going to be led around by the nose by Carmichael, and she would have to learn that the hard way.
The Rules of the Game (D'Arth Series Book 1) Page 1
