by A. E. Radley
Emily regarded Irene silently for a moment. She didn’t know much about the woman except the few horror stories Joe had told her. But then, people changed, and Emily wondered if the loss of her son and the subsequent years had brought about a transformation.
“I won’t accept financial help. Things are tight, but we can manage.” Emily didn’t know how much they knew and didn’t want to provide them with any further ammunition.
Seb unfolded a newspaper, reached into his inner jacket pocket, and removed his reading glasses. He put them on and looked at the page with his mouth open while he searched out what he was looking for.
“Here we are, Crown Airlines.” He looked up at Emily. “Your airline, I believe?”
Emily slowly nodded.
He looked back to the paper. “The timing of the crash was terrible. Friday evening. That gives the markets all weekend to get nice and shaken up before trading opens again on Monday. Estimates are that share prices will fall by up to twenty-five percent.” He folded the paper and put it to one side, then placed his glasses on top. “Do you know much about large corporations?”
“No,” Emily admitted.
“They are like a giant house of cards. Built on assumptions and trust. They assume that a certain number of people will purchase a certain number of products over a certain amount of time. As long as those assumptions look correct, everyone is happy. But when there’s a glitch and those assumptions are found to be incorrect, the whole thing comes crashing down.”
Emily reached for the jug of water on the table and poured some into the empty wine glass in front of her. Her nerves about the Crown situation were already high. Seb’s analysis of the impending disaster was not helping.
“People will get scared. They will cancel their bookings, transfer them to other airlines. Many people are under the illusion that airlines are highly lucrative businesses, but in truth they’re very risky. Operating costs, fuel, aircraft maintenance, staff.” He waved his hand towards Emily.
Emily drank the water in two gulps and quickly filled up again.
“I’m not privy to the finer workings of Crown’s balance book, but I would say it’s a risky business for you to be in at the moment,” he continued. “Look, Emily, a friend of mine is opening a new office in New York, he’s looking for staff, and I’m sure I could get you a comfortable office job. Nine to five. Medical, dental. Think of it as a gesture of goodwill.”
Irene cut in. “You wouldn’t be working for us or anything.”
“Absolutely,” he confirmed. “I’d just be linking together two people, one who needs a secure job, close to her family. And one who needs a reliable, hardworking employee.”
“And what do you get from this?” Emily asked.
“Nothing,” Irene assured her. “Like I said, we want to help lift the load. If you won’t accept money, and I can understand that, then at least accept the possibility of a safe job that allows you to earn more and spend more time with Henry.”
Emily didn’t know if she could turn down such a good offer, especially since Crown had grounded her. Getting out seemed like a good option, and to have an office job handed to her—to be able to tuck Henry in every night—was too good an opportunity to pass up. While Irene may have had a personality adjustment over the years, Seb was still the unreasonable bully she remembered. The short interaction had left her in no doubt that he was using her as an unwilling pawn in his game of chess. The idea of making a deal with him left a bitter taste in her mouth, and she felt certain he would soon be calling in the favour, but she had very little choice.
“I would look at any offer seriously,” Emily admitted. “It’s very kind of you to do that for me.”
“These five years without Joe have been hard. There’s been a lot of time to reflect,” Irene said softly.
Emily understood; she would never truly be over Joe’s death herself. She didn’t think you ever recovered properly from losing someone important. But the loss of a son—she couldn’t imagine it, and a shudder went up her spine at the very thought.
“I can’t even begin to—”
“It’s in the past,” Irene cut in. “And now we’re looking to the future.”
Emily nodded. “I’m not going to give up Henry.”
“I wouldn’t expect you to,” Irene replied. “Seb spoke out of turn. Ignore him.”
Seb let out a sigh and took a sip of his wine.
“Our methods are wrong, I understand that. But our intentions are good. We want to help. Henry is five now; he’ll be starting school very soon. These are important points in his life, and he needs stability.” Irene licked her lips nervously. “How is he? Is he well after the surgery?”
“If I knew you cared, I would have left a note in the trash for you to find,” Emily said spitefully.
Irene winced at the barb but straightened her shoulders and nodded. “I deserved that,” she acknowledged. “As I said, I know our methods are flawed, but I assure you that I do care for him. Very much.”
Emily could see the sincerity in Irene’s eyes and licked her lips. “He’s doing great. Recovering really well. The difference in him is like night and day.”
Irene smiled. “Thank you.”
“School can be an expensive business. Bags and shoes and whatnot,” Seb interjected.
Irene rolled her eyes. “We just want you to know that we’re willing to help. To start again.”
Emily considered the words for a moment. In her heart, she would have liked nothing more than to storm from the restaurant and never see either of them again. But in her head, she knew that it would be better for Henry to have a connection to Joe. Once he started school and started to talk to other kids, he would invariably ask more about his father.
Here she had a real chance to give Henry family, blood relations. In her mind, she pictured him growing up, spending time with his grandparents—but she wondered if that was sentimental and idyllic. Based on what she’d heard from Joe, the reality would not be as joyous as her imaginings. Seb was cold and manipulative; she could see that clearly from her few dealings with him. She didn’t want Henry exposed to that kind of person, even if the man was his grandfather. Just as quickly, she wondered if it was truly fair to judge Seb based upon such little evidence. She certainly wouldn’t want anyone to judge her so quickly.
The truth was, she had to try. She wouldn’t want to have a conversation with Henry several years in the future where she admitted that she didn’t even try. She also knew that it would be prudent to keep the Brennans happy.
“I’d like that. To start again, I mean,” Emily said softly.
Seb got a business card from his pocket and slid it across the table. “Here’s our contact details. If you’re interested in the job, give me a call, and I’ll set up a meeting. But don’t delay too much. The positions are being snapped up.”
Emily picked up the card and stood. “Thank you.”
“Are you sure you can’t stay for dinner?” Irene asked.
“No, I’m sorry, I need to get back.”
“I understand,” Irene said kindly. “Please, stay in touch.”
“I will.” Emily said goodbye to the both of them and walked through the restaurant lost in her thoughts.
* * *
“That went better than expected.”
Irene nodded. “I think she’s in more trouble than she’s letting on.”
“Good.” Seb smirked. “If she is in trouble, then she’ll need us all the more. Once she’s reliant on us, it’ll be even easier to get what we want.”
“Like I’ve said from the start, I’d rather do this with her blessing,” Irene pointed out. “You bulldozed your way through that conversation, just like I asked you not to.”
“I know, my dear, I know,” he said, unrepentant. “But the chances of her willingly giving up Henry are very, very remote. If you want any control over the boy’s life, then there’s a chance we’ll have to file for custody again. I’m just ensuring that if we do take
that route, everything will be in place.”
Irene remained quiet. The last thing she wanted was to start a second custody battle with Emily. It’d been over five years since the last failed attempt, and she still had reservations about those actions. In the past, no one would have described her as a good mother to her own son. But she would have fought tooth and nail for him to stay with her, had she ever been unfortunate enough to be in Emily’s position.
Five years was a long time, especially when your estranged grandson was growing older each day, presumably with no knowledge of your existence. She hoped that they would be able to forge some kind of relationship with Emily. More than that, she hoped Seb would be able to keep his temper and controlling tendencies under control.
Already, Seb’s selfish schemes, private detectives, and marginal threats were turning Emily against them. Even after thirty-five years of marriage, Irene still didn’t know if Seb actually wanted Henry in his life, or if he just had to win.
“What makes you think she’ll even take that job with Marcus?”
“She will. I checked the departures on the Crown website. Her scheduled flight was cancelled this afternoon. If she has any sense, and she does, she’ll be scrambling to get fixed employment.”
Irene picked up her wine glass and took a small sip. “We’re doing the right thing, aren’t we?”
“Of course.” Seb nodded. “She can’t look after the boy. She’s in debt up to her eyeballs. No, this is best for Henry. And, in the long run, it will be better for her too.” Seb reached out and covered Irene’s hand with his. “And you’ll be the grandmother that Henry deserves.”
CHAPTER 7
Simon shivered as he walked along the New York street. He couldn’t believe the audacity of Americans complaining about British weather. Okay, so it rained a lot in London, but at least there wasn’t a permanent bitterly cold wind blowing.
Unfortunately, he understood that he was going to have to get used to it. He knew Olivia well enough to know that she was unlikely to budge on her decision to not fly again. He’d made arrangements to stay in New York for a couple of weeks, at least. He might not be her son, but he knew he was the closest thing she had to family. He also knew she’d be useless looking after herself, so he’d need to step up and help her.
He walked in through the main hospital entrance and made his way down a number of corridors.
“Good morning.” Simon approached the reception desk. “I’m here for Olivia Lewis.”
The nurse looked up from her work. “Oh yes, you’re her son, aren’t you?”
Simon smiled politely. He’d hoped they’d have forgotten that, but apparently not. “That’s right. Is she ready to be discharged?”
“Well…” She looked at him with a small smile. “That kinda depends on you.”
* * *
“Simon!” Olivia cried out enthusiastically. “Have you seen this show?”
He entered the room, staring at Olivia in shock. Her pupils were blown wide open, and her usual stiff manner had vanished.
The nurse had warned him about her reaction to the pain medication, but he was still surprised to see her in such a state.
“It’s about these six friends who are really good friends. And they’re extremely funny. It’s so lovely. The show is basically about their friendship.”
Simon looked briefly towards the television. “Yes, they’re very funny.”
“They’re so lucky to have each other. I don’t know what it’s called, but it’s been on all morning. I’ve watched nineteen of them in a row. Do you have any chocolate?”
“Um, no, I don’t. Sorry.” Simon spotted Olivia’s belongings in a bag beside her bed.
“And today I go home,” she told him excitedly. “I just need to wait for my son to get here.”
Simon blinked and searched Olivia’s expression for any sign that she may be joking. She wasn’t. It was surreal to see her so relaxed and oblivious to her surroundings. In the years that Simon had worked for her, he had only ever seen her looking absolutely professional—her dress, her hair and make-up, and her manner always precise and exact.
Olivia giggled at the television. Simon had never heard her giggle. It was disconcerting, but gave him unexpected insight into what he presumed must be the real Olivia.
“About that. He asked me to come instead. Is that okay?” he asked carefully.
Olivia looked relieved. She held out her hand, and as Simon stepped closer, she grasped on to his hand tightly. “Thank goodness. I would much prefer you. He’s been so distant to me.”
Then she released his hand and looked back at the television screen with childlike curiosity. Simon watched her with interest. Just when he thought he knew everything there was to know about the woman, he saw a whole new side to her.
“My son also flew over from London, like you,” Olivia told him without looking away from the screen.
Simon smiled, wondering what kind of fantasy world she had constructed in her mind. He could easily imagine Olivia as a mother; her interactions with Henry had proved beyond a doubt that she had parental skills she didn’t know about. Despite her difficulties in communicating with adults, she seemed to settle into talking to children immediately. He suspected that was due to Olivia’s refusal, or inability, to treat people differently. She didn’t make exceptions for people, and therefore she spoke to Henry as she would anyone else, regardless of age.
He remembered being sent out for gifts for Henry. In true Olivia style it was over the top and the boy was showered with more presents than necessary. Later, he was organising a private behind-the-scenes tour of the giraffe house at London Zoo at Olivia’s request. All because Olivia wanted to make Henry happy and to ensure that his recovery and remaining time in London was perfect. Yes, he could easily imagine Olivia as a mother.
“Are you sure you’re ready to go home?”
“Absolutely, I don’t even know why I’m in here. Do you have any chocolate?”
“You’re in here because you have a broken leg, remember? And a sprained wrist?”
Olivia pulled back the sheets to look down at her leg cast. “Oh, so that’s what this is about.”
“I’ll be back in a moment.” Simon told her.
“Bing is a silly name.” He heard Olivia announce as he exited the room and sought out a nurse.
“Ah, Mr. Lewis.” The nurse smiled warmly. “Ready to take your mom home?”
Simon opened and closed his mouth, pointed towards the door, and then let out a sigh. “Is she going to be like that for long?”
“Some people do react strangely to pain medication; it will wear off in the next twenty-four hours.”
Simon stared at her. “Twenty-four hours?”
“She’ll probably tire herself out at some point.”
“Probably?”
“We could keep her in another day, but I don’t think she’d like that.”
Simon sighed. “You’re right.” He heard more giggling from Olivia’s room.
“You might want to invest in a box set of Friends so she can see a different episode,” she suggested.
“Another episode?”
“Yes, she’s watching the previews on the hospital paid-for channel. There’s only one episode available.”
CHAPTER 8
“Marcus, it’s been too long!” Seb Brennan looked around the executive office and smiled. “I see things are going well?”
Marcus stood up and walked around his desk to shake hands. “Seb, it’s been ages. How’s business?”
“Good, although I’m practically retired these days.”
“I don’t know how you can stand it.” Marcus gestured for them to sit on the comfortable sofa that faced the New York skyline. “I’d be bored out of my mind.”
Seb sat down and examined an expensive looking ornament on the coffee table. “Hobbies, Marcus. Hobbies.”
“But surely when you enjoy work this much it is a hobby?” Marcus spread his arms out to indicate the r
oom.
“Is it work that you enjoy or the challenge of taking down your old boss?” Seb asked with a knowing grin. They’d worked together a few times in the past, thankfully on the same team, and Marcus was just as competitive as he was. Business was about taking out your opponents and appearing loyal to the people who would be useful to you in the future. You never knew when you might need them to do you a favour.
Marcus let out a laugh. “Well, I’ll admit that it focuses the mind when you have such a long-sought-after prize at the end of the working day.”
“It’s good to have you back in New York,” Seb admitted. “There’s no challenge left at the club without you.”
“It’s good to be out of London. It’s an okay city, but I always felt like I was imprisoned there.”
“Well, you practically were. After your little coup failed,” Seb began.
“Don’t call it that.” Marcus bristled. “I couldn’t stand to see Applewood being run into the ground by the snivelling wreck and then his daughter. Once they built up the New York client base, they went to London to do the same, but they took their eyes off of the prize. Completely ignored the opportunities in the New York market. Honestly, Seb, the American arm of the business was left to rot over here while they focused on Europe.”
“So, now you’re taking back New York?”
“Damn right I am. I’ve had enough of Olivia’s Europe-centric- business bullshit. If she can’t identify that there are real business opportunities here in America, then I’ll do it on my own.”
“And take Applewood’s clients while you’re at it?” Seb questioned.
Marcus stood up and crossed over to his desk. He moved aside some archive boxes before picking up a file and waving it towards Seb. “Two of Applewood’s top American-based clients are already on board. I didn’t even have to ask. They approached me.”