The Second Time

by Jade Winters

  ‘You that hungry?’

  Kay nodded and smiled. ‘Now come on, you and Darcie?’

  Madison finished off her breakfast, chewing the last mouthful slowly.

  ‘Maddie, come on spill,’ Kay whined like a teenager.

  Madison held up both hands in submission. ‘OK, OK. Before we went to Thailand, Darcie seemed a bit cool, while we were there she warmed up and last night …’ Madison smiled to herself, ‘… last night was hot—’

  ‘Sounded it too,’ Kay said, marking her interruption with a wink.

  ‘Yeah, OK. Then this morning, she was just gone. She left a note, but it just said goodbye, ring you later, so I have no idea if it was just a one off, or whether last night meant something more. I know whatever made her leave must have been something big because Darcie hates getting up early.’

  ‘Not a morning person then?’

  ‘You know the saying about a bear with a sore head?’ Madison said with a quick laugh. ‘That’s Darcie if she has to get up early. The thing I’m finding confusing about her is how much she’s changed. When we were first together as teenagers she was completely up front about her feelings. Now, she seems a lot more closed off. She told me what happened when she left the foster home and I said it was OK, but we still didn’t say anything about our future.’

  Kay raised questioning eyebrows at her. ‘And you didn’t ask because…?’

  ‘She wasn’t exactly in the right frame of mind after six cocktails,’ Madison said.

  Kay’s mouth formed a perfect O. ‘Jesus; I’d be laid out for a week if I drank that much.’

  ‘Me too. So, the truth is, right now, I don’t know where we stand.’ Madison stopped talking, realising that despite the changes, she still loved Darcie, maybe even more than before, but the relationship they had now was clouded, unclear.

  ‘Listen, Madison. Back then you were both kids. You’re both adults now and haven’t seen or known each other for ten years. It’s going to take time, and you both need to adjust to the people you are now, not what you were like ten years ago. You still have an image in your head of Darcie from all those years ago and that’s the image you’ve been in love with all this time. You have to let that go and deal with Darcie as the person she is now, or you will never move past where you are.’

  Madison was quiet for a few moments, nodding gently because she knew, infuriating as it might be, that Kay was right. She had to make a decision, either to live in the past, pining for someone who existed back then, or to sweep that all away and look to the future, one that might or might not include Darcie.

  After ten years stuck in the past, she didn’t know for sure if she could pull herself out, but she knew she owed it to herself to at least try.

  ‘You’re right,’ Madison said, ‘and thanks.’

  Something came to Madison’s mind as she stood up to clear away the dishes. ‘Anyway, enough about me. What about you? You said you were going on a date with a guy last night and I never got a chance to dig deeper into that. What’s going on?’ She dropped the empty mayonnaise bottle in the overflowing bin.

  ‘Well. I’ve known James for a while and he keeps asking me for a drink, so I said yes. A change is as good as a rest, I thought. So, we met at …’

  Madison leant back against the edge of the black, marble, kitchen worktop and settled herself for the ride.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  After what seemed like an interminable journey back home, made even longer by her mind constantly churning over what Emma had told her about Bette stealing her proposal and using it as her own, Darcie was thankful to see the front door of her building as she approached. She was slightly amused at the thought of what would have taken place at Gaze when Bette handed in her ideas for the campaign. How she would have explained to her team the reasoning behind her suggestions. The trouble was, those momentary flashes of amusement had been outweighed by the knowledge that the only way Bette could have laid eyes on the proposal was through one person.

  Madison.

  Darcie still couldn’t understand why she would do something like that. It just didn’t make sense. Nothing’s made sense since she came back into my life. Darcie keyed in the code to get into the lobby of her building.

  She was in a world of her own, lost in thoughts of what to do next when a voice startled her.

  ‘Morning.’

  She looked over to the concierge desk where the voice had come from. Standing tall and proud behind it, as did most of the ex-military Darcie knew, was Stan. The concierge.

  Darcie wandered over and leant on the desk. She always made time to speak to Stan, not to stay on good terms so he would arrange to fix anything that went wrong in her flat, but because he was a genuinely nice man with a story to tell for every occasion.

  ‘Everything all right? You looked like you were lost in a world of your own then.’

  Darcie managed to scrape up what she hoped was a genuine-looking smile for the grey-haired man.

  ‘I’m fine, Stan, just got a few things going on, you know?’

  ‘I do know, Miss,’ he said nodding and smiling as he shuffled around a few papers on his desk and glanced occasionally at the security monitor, hidden behind the high counter.

  ‘I keep telling you, Stan, please call me Darcie. When you call me Miss I sound like a school teacher.’ It was a subject they had spoken about a few times, but Stan had never yet managed to.

  ‘I prefer to call you Miss if you don’t mind, Miss.’ Stan stood a little more upright than Darcie thought was possible.

  ‘Why?’ Darcie asked, not for the first time. Stan had never answered before, always managing to be rescued by another tenant or some emergency or another.

  He hesitated a moment, his eyes flickering down to the screen covering the front door, then to the phone. No one appeared as if by magic, and the phone stayed silent.

  ‘It’s a matter of respect, Miss. As you know I’m a military man and the years I spent in the army taught me that the moment you cross that line, relationships change. I saw it happen. You call officers by their first name and suddenly, they aren’t officers any more. Take us. You’re a tenant, and my job is to ensure that your flat is well-maintained. That’s it. To do that I have to respect the fact that you are paying a lot of money to live here and deserve the best service.’

  ‘We’re talking about a name here, Stan, it’s no big deal.’

  ‘I know, Miss but it’s what that name means that is important. Anyway, I called you over to say thank you. You were the only tenant to take time to send my mother some flowers and chocolates on her ninetieth birthday. I appreciate the fact that you took time out of your busy day to do that. It means a great deal to me.’

  ‘It was only flowers—’

  ‘No, Miss. What the gift was is immaterial.’ He leant in a little and whispered conspiratorially, ‘although I did manage to snaffle a couple of strawberry creams before my mother and her pals at the retirement home demolished the rest of them.’

  ‘I’m glad they went down well.’

  Stan smiled, clearly thinking back to the event with some pleasure. ‘The reason they meant so much was that you cared enough to send them. Not many people are that caring, and I just wanted you to know how grateful I am for the thought.’

  ‘You’re very welcome, Stan. See you later. Have a good day,’ Darcie said with a genuine smile.

  As she turned away, Stan replied. ‘You too, Miss, and I hope whatever is troubling you is something you can get resolved soon.’

  Darcie stopped, halfway to the lifts, then turned back to Stan.

  ‘Thank you, Stan. I do too. Listen, what would you do when—’

  ‘Talk, Miss. That’s what I’d do. Whatever the problem is, and I don’t need the details, the only answer is talk. I spent years doing unimaginable things …’ he stared down, seemingly unwilling to meet Darcie’s eyes for a moment, ‘…in the end the only thing that helped me live with myself, was talking.’

  Darcie no
dded, thinking about that for a few seconds before she forced herself to brighten up and gave Stan a quick wave. ‘Thanks, Stan. You’ve been a big help.’

  By the time she reached her flat, Stan’s advice had been thrown into the giant cement mixer of her mind.

  She should talk to Madison, she knew it was sage advice, but the overwhelming emotion of jealousy, that Madison had somehow been in cahoots with Bette battled its way to the front of the mixer. And while Darcie stood under the steaming water of her hot shower, equally hot tears ran down her face.

  Madison didn’t love her, she would never have passed on the proposal to Bette if she had, and no amount of talking would change that.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  After her breakfast discussion with Kay, Madison hoped that her day would be busy enough to take her mind off her personal troubles. The fact that she had her first board meeting of Clover Ltd that afternoon suggested that it might be.

  The morning had passed in a whirlwind of answering what seemed to be interminable emails, many commiserating for her loss but with little more than blatant pitches for business woven into the weasel words. Many more were similar begging letters, this time hidden in congratulations on becoming the owner of the business.

  She made a mental note to start a process of weeding out the more obviously brazen companies who felt that pitching for business at such a sensitive time was appropriate. She wasn’t surprised to see that Gaze, while not the worst by any means, had succumbed to what seemed to be their normal low levels of propriety by joining in the frenzy.

  The only highlight of the morning was her call to Lindros, during which she informed Marcus that Clover Ltd would no longer require them to put forward a proposal. The shock in his voice gave her more pleasure than it should have. Luckily her uncle had never informed the board that Lindros were to replace Silver Lining, so the decision was all hers.

  There was nothing from Silver Lining or Darcie personally and Madison hadn’t had time to send her a message either, more to do with time constraints than anything else. She had to prepare for the board meeting and she wasn’t looking forward to it one little bit. Not seeing her uncle at the head of the table where he normally sat was going to be hard. Madison only hoped she could hold it together. At least until the meeting was over.

  At the allotted time Madison, confident that she had got to grips with the information she had managed to read through, pulled open the door to the boardroom and stepped into the lion’s den.

  The room was large, occupied in the middle by a substantial table and eight chairs, six of which were currently occupied. At the far end of the room was a unit on which stood freshly prepared pots of coffee. White plates of biscuits and bottles of water were arranged perfectly on the table itself. The stark beige walls of the room were decorated with paintings that looked suspiciously like the prints that were hung in the company’s hotel rooms.

  When she took a breath, the combined smell of different colognes caught at the back of her throat, forcing her to put a hand to her mouth and cough slightly.

  Butterflies were aflutter in her stomach which growled gently, just once, in protest at her missing lunch.

  ‘Gentlemen,’ she said in what she hoped was a confident voice. ‘Shall we get started?’ She took her seat at the head of the highly polished mahogany table.

  The only other woman in the room was her secretary who was there to record proceedings, so she could type up notes later. She sat at the far end of the room setting up a microphone on the table.

  As Madison waited, she looked around at the other five board members. Relics from a different age. Suited and booted, they all looked like clones of her uncle which made her feel sad. Bryan was so at home being in charge of meetings, whereas she felt like a fish out of water.

  The only other person there was the comparatively young money man whose droning speech she had zoned out from the day before. He was an anonymous grey suit in a sea of navy-blue pinstripe jackets, brown shoes, and striped shirts.

  Madison glanced down at the folders in front of her, topped by a single sheet of paper with the agenda neatly typed out on it. The folders were empty, props she had used so she didn’t have to think about what to do with her hands when she walked in. What she wanted to say was in her mind, fixed there like it had been superglued.

  She looked back up at her secretary.

  ‘Are we all set up there, Terri?’

  The middle-aged woman nodded.

  With absolutely no idea how the meeting was going to go, Madison ran her tongue over her now dry lips, swallowed and opened her mouth to speak.

  ‘Before you start, Madison,’ one of the silver hairs spoke up, his cheeks florid and covered in broken veins. ‘We would, as the board of Clover Ltd, like to officially pass on our condolences for your loss, on the record. Bryan was a great man and those of us here who shared much of his journey with him are looking forward to maintaining the values and working methods that have served the company so well over many years.’

  This was followed by muted sounds of agreement from the other silver hairs in the room.

  Madison looked at the man who seemed pleased with himself at his early intervention, trying to decipher what it was he was alluding to. Sorry and all that, but don’t expect us to change. That was her translation.

  ‘Thank you, Eric, that is very kind. My uncle was indeed a great man. I know he appreciated your support over the years and I am grateful to you for that.’

  Eric nodded his pleasure at her gracious response.

  ‘However, maintaining Clover’s values and working methods, which seem to reside some time in the 1950s, is not an option anymore. They have left this company in a serious situation. Profits over the last five years have halved, bookings have fallen by 20 percent year on year for the last two years and I think I am right in saying by 60 percent against this time last year.’ The grey suit nodded in agreement. ‘Gentlemen that is a situation we … I cannot allow to continue. Doing what we have always done and hoping things will turn around is no longer viable.’

  Five blue suits stared back at her with eyes wide and varying shocked expressions on their faces.

  Eric managed to splutter into action. ‘But, but—’

  Madison held up a hand to stop him in his tracks. She knew she had surprised them and wanted to maintain her advantage. ‘Before you say anything more, Eric, let me say this. Ten a.m. tomorrow is the final deadline for proposals from two PR firms who will put forward their visions for how we proceed as a company, so I propose that we meet again tomorrow, view those proposals, then decide how we move forward. You all have a stake in this company and, being blunt, if you want to still have a stake in something worthwhile, you will consider what the two proposals suggest and choose the right one to take us forward so—’

  Eric interrupted. ‘Madison, may I say something?’

  Madison gave way with a nod.

  ‘It has come to the board’s attention that you may have a … erm …personal engagement with one of the companies who were invited to bid. Silver Lining.’

  Madison could feel her heart rate starting to rise. This had caught her by surprise. She sat for a moment staring now at five embarrassed-looking blue suits. Her immediate inclination was to deny it. But the more she thought about it, the more she understood what was going on. Her best guess was that Laura had sunk her claws into Eric, probably sweet pillow-talking that information to him and doubtless with some more details to back it up.

  She knew, half an hour into her first board meeting, that this would be the defining moment of her time as owner of Clover Ltd.

  Trusting her gut feeling, she went on the attack, just as her uncle had taught her.

  ‘Thank you, Eric. You are absolutely correct in saying that, and I’m sure your source will be made known in the fullness of time.’

  Eric shrank under her gaze as she arched an eyebrow and glanced over at him. He held her eye for a second then dropped his gaze to the papers in
front of him. The puzzled looks from the other board members towards him went unnoticed. She assumed this was a one-man attack.

  ‘I’ve given this matter a great deal of thought and my thoughts are, to avoid any possibility of any undue influence on my part, that both proposals should be sealed and viewed anonymously so nobody knows which bid is which,’ she continued. ‘I will also abstain from voting on the final decision so that there can be no accusations of favouritism. That, gentlemen, means that the future of Clover Ltd is entirely in your hands. I only have one further thing to say. Many of you have been with the company for a long time and knew my uncle well. Would you be happy to see the company fail? Is that the tribute you wish to pay to his memory?’

  Madison waited before continuing, looking at each board member in turn, letting them see the determination on her face.

  A chorus of ‘Nos’ sounded around the table.

  ‘You should also consider gentlemen, that from a purely personal point of view, the continued profitability of Clover Ltd is what will pay you the dividends and profit share that doubtless most of you are depending on to provide you with an income during the later stages of your lives. Be in no doubt; that income is under threat and the wrong decision taken now will spell the end of it. I formally propose that today’s meeting should end, and that we meet again tomorrow at eleven a.m. to discuss the way forward and decide to whom the contract is awarded. I will arrange for both companies to be here at 1p.m for the official announcement. All in favour?’

  Five people raised their hands. Madison couldn’t help but smile that the non-voting grey suit was one of them.

  ‘I’m sorry, Martin. Much as I’m grateful for your support, as yet, you don’t get to vote.’ The man’s face coloured up red as he slowly brought his hand down again to rest on the table.

  ‘OK so that is four votes in favour. Those against?’

  Eric looked around the room, his face pinched into a sullen frown, then he raised his hand. ‘So that is one vote against, the motion is carried. Thank you very much gentlemen and I shall see you tomorrow.’ Madison leant over, picked up her folders, stood, and got the hell out of there as quickly as she could, whilst trying to maintain some air of dignity about herself.