Engagement Rate (The Callaghan Green Series Book 1)

by Annie Dyer

  "Not bad. Anything I need to know about?"

  Mandy knew pretty much everything that went on in the office and if she'd ever been inclined, would've been the perfect person to run the HR department. "Kirsty was looking for you earlier. Shall I let her know you're back? I think she wanted a quiet word."

  "Give me twenty minutes to have a coffee."

  "Sure." Mandy turned her attention to answer the phone and I escaped into my office before anyone could catch me and tie me into a conversation. Friday was not the day to start anything new, or get engaged in office politics.

  Twenty minutes later there was a knock at my door and Kirsty appeared wearing a tight fitting dress, her hair done up in an intricate style. "How was the north?" she said, looking wide-eyed and slightly nervous. I knew Claire had spoken with her about her attitude towards Vanessa and Kirsty had apologized profusely, citing a bad break up with her boyfriend as a reason for her moodiness. I wasn't convinced.

  "Successful. What can I do for you?" I sat back in my chair, stretching out my legs, hoping this wouldn't take long.

  "It's about the marketing department. I have a few ideas on how we could make it more profitable and engage new clients. I know we've brought Vanessa in, and she's really good..." the sincerity was completely forced, "...but I know this firm better than she does and our potential market so I was wondering if I could run through some of the thoughts I'd had."

  I didn't want to inhibit her enthusiasm even though I was pretty damn sure her ideas wouldn't have the same caliber and depth than the ones Vanessa had discussed with yesterday evening, when we had a scheduled just-work discussion. "When do you think would be a good idea to meet about it? I'm more than happy to listen to what you've come up with – it's what you're employed for." It was a dig at her as this was the first time in nine months that she had requested such a discussion, despite at her interview producing a portfolio of work that she had allegedly completed with a previous employer.

  "I was wondering if you could fit me in after work tonight? I know it's short notice and you've spent most of the week away, but I checked your diary and you're free," she smiled.

  I considered my options. I did need to hear her out but it wasn't urgent and it wasn't protocol to arrange a meeting on the same day as mentioning it. Plus, Vanessa's event started at six and I wanted to go home and get changed. "Why don't you email me an outline with your ideas then I can have some time to consider them." I checked my diary. "I've time on Wednesday morning at ten; we can look then at what we're going forward with. I'll see if Vanessa has availability to join us then too."

  "I'm not sure I want Vanessa in on this. I mean, I know she's only here short term but she's already passed one of my ideas off as hers. It's unprofessional to say that, I know, but I feel I'm being caught in between a rock and a hard place," Kirsty said, sitting down uninvited in the chair opposite me.

  "What was the idea?" I asked. I could see where this was going.

  Kirsty sighed. "I mentioned to her about bringing in some of the kids from the hospice Mr. Callaghan has supported before the retirement ball for a mini-celebration. It's great publicity and I knew it would be something your dad would enjoy from everything I've heard about him," she smiled sweetly, covering herself as I knew she'd never actually met my father. "It highlights the charitable work the company does and helps fix the image of the company being more than just a law firm, it shows us as being part of the wider London society."

  "When did you discuss this idea with Vanessa?"

  "Tuesday afternoon when she was in the office."

  "When did you find out Vanessa was going ahead with this?" I didn't know if to laugh or shout.

  "Wednesday. She sent me an email asking me to look for a children's magician."

  "Did you find one?" I kept calm.

  "Of course. I might be able to get a couple of celebrities involved too, you know, through a couple of contacts I picked up from my previous firm." She sat up straight. "I'm not bothered about it, Jackson, but I'd rather Vanessa not be there when I speak to you about my ideas, and I'd really like to chat with you after work. If you like what I suggest I could put a few extra hours in over the weekend."

  "Are you sure it was Tuesday afternoon when you discussed it with her?" I gave her even more rope.

  "It could've been late morning. You were in Manchester else I'd have discussed it with you straight away. It is such a good idea, isn't it?"

  "I thought so. When I spoke with Vanessa about it on Monday evening I thought it was an excellent idea. We went through the charities my father had supported over the years and the ones we were involved in now. That was Monday night." I watched her face drop and her bottom lip start to shake. I never knew quite what to do with crying females, especially ones that I had made cry. I rubbed my face. "Look, Kirsty, I know you've found it difficult working with Vanessa..."

  "I don't get why she's here! I mean, I'm doing my job. I'm good with clients, I have a good list of contacts. Why wasn't I asked to oversee the rebrand or the retirement ball? Bringing her in makes me look like I'm incompetent!" She started to cry, large tears dripping down her cheeks.

  "It's common practice for companies to bring in an outsider for something like this as an impartial view gives a fresher approach. I'm sorry that you've feel you've been sidelined but this is a perfect opportunity for you to learn from someone who's been in this field for some years and has been incredibly successful. What we do need you to do is show what impact you being good with clients and having good contacts is having, as I'm not seeing justification at the moment for the lunch meetings you bill expenses for or how our client base has grown since you've been working for us," I knew I sounded harsh but I wasn't the most patient person when dealing with someone who had just blatantly lied and tried to take credit where it wasn't due. I passed her a tissue.

  "Honestly, I'd feel so much better if I can have some time with you. This evening would be perfect. It'd stop me from having a shitty weekend," she wiped her eyes, smearing mascara. I decided I wouldn't point it out, it'd give something for Mandy to say when Kirsty left my office.

  "I'm afraid I am busy straight after work, it's just not in the diary. Like I said, email me your thoughts and we'll discuss them next Wednesday. If it makes you uncomfortable, we won't have Vanessa here, but be aware that she is being employed as an advisor so I am likely to be discussing them with her." I fixed my eyes on my computer screen as a hint for her to go.

  She stood up and I breathed a quiet sigh of relief. "Sure. I'll email you this evening. I'd prefer it if we can have a conversation before Wednesday. I think you can imagine I feel very insecure and stressed right now and that's not good for my mental health."

  It wasn't good for mine either. No employer likes to hear the word 'stressed'. "I'll recheck my diary and email you when you've sent your ideas. I don't need this right now as I probably won't have a chance to look at them in any depth until after the weekend. You should spend your weekend enjoying yourself. You still have a job; just remember you're still learning and having someone like Vanessa working here is a perfect opportunity for you to expand your skills base."

  "No worries." She turned around and headed for the door, her hips swaying and I got the feeling that there was another agenda for suggesting tonight after work.

  "Fuck." I left my office and headed for Maxwell's. My older brother did not deal with staff, other than to yell at his secretary or delegate to his team. He was academic, far more so than me, and loved the law and arguing. But he had a decent pair of ears and more than an average portion of common sense.

  "You busy?" I asked, standing in the doorway. His head was down and he looked focused, so clearly, he was busy.

  "Always. But I always have time to pass on my sage advice to my inept baby brother," he said, looking up.

  "Seph's not here," I said, closing the door behind me. He laughed. I filled him in quickly on what had gone on with Kirsty.

  Maxwell shrugged. "Record the
conversation and your advice. She's out of her depth in that role and I suspect she's lied at interview. Let's get HR to have a good check as if she has falsified anything its grounds for dismissal. You know she's been after your ass since she started though?"

  I frowned at him. "Seriously? I'm a good few years older than her to start with."

  "Seriously, brother. But you're not ugly – you couldn't be, you're related to me although God knows what happened with Callum; you're the figurehead for this place; girls dig bodies like ours and you're loaded. Besides, Amelie overheard her discussing you with one of her friends in the café a few months ago."

  "And you didn't tell me?"

  "For fuck's sake, Jackson. It's not the first time it's happened and you don't need a bigger ego than what you've got already. I'd just be a bit careful though." He looked back down at his papers.

  "Why's that?"

  "Vanessa."

  "Come again?"

  "Many times. The ladies for sure. No, you and Van have chemistry; you sent flowers for her on Wednesday which Van loved by the way and everyone cooed over. Thank Ghaving od Claire told you not to put your name on them – genius woman. As soon as Kirsty notices she'll make it harder for Van," Maxwell said. "I'd speak with Van about it. She'll have some idea as to how to handle it."

  "Cheers, bro," I left him to it and returned to my office, emailing HR so the conversation went on record. I'd wait until later to let Vanessa know; no point distracting her when she was busy enough. It was only a few hours until I'd surprise her by being at the event she'd organized to launch a new restaurant opening in Mayfair. Sometimes it helped to have a few connections of my own.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Chapter Twelve

  Vanessa

  I had been working on the launch of Mount Street Social for nine months since the chef Simone Wood had decided to open up another restaurant and wanted to get the publicity right from the start. It had almost been a labor of love: I liked Simone, I like what she was trying to do and I really liked the food, which meant I was incredibly invested. The branding had been straightforward; sleek, sophisticated and artistic. I'd worked with a really good photographer as soon as the restaurant was furnished to get the atmospheric shots we'd wanted as a background for the website and other media and then we'd gone to town with getting the word out, ensuring that the clientele for the opening night would set the tone for the restaurant. Simone was already fully booked through until the end of September; enough quiet, tasteful publicity generated so that the extremely expensive a la carte dishes would be served to full restaurants of discerning clientele. Tonight was about creating a buzz that would ensure the restaurant would be full for all of October and November, although Simone had assured me that I had a table waiting for me whenever I wanted.

  "Everyone's ready?" Simone said, wearing a simple black dress and pearls, black kitten heels as much as she could muster given she was accustomed to flats in the kitchen.

  "Everything is set. All has gone according to plan," I smiled. Events like this were plentiful enough that me and my team could do them in our sleep, especially Alice, who was in her element, particularly with the finer details. Now was my time to step back and allow my well-trained team to take over. I could speak with future clients, evaluate the evening and be there in case of absolute emergencies. "Champagne?"

  "Abso-fucking-lutely," Simone said, taking a glass and downing half of it. "This is the second time I've done this and I'm even more nervous. What if the critics don't like it as much as the first restaurant? What if they question the validity of my star? I shouldn't have done it. It's too much."

  I handed her a second glass of champagne. Simone functioned much better when she was only semi-sober. "They'll love it. The tasting menu is magnificent. Get pissed and enjoy the evening."

  I left her to attend to some last-minute details in the kitchen and allowed myself to unfocus, knowing that soon I'd be seeing Jackson for the first time in what felt like forever. It had been just over four days since I'd left his house on Monday morning and we'd spoken every night and most mornings which hadn't given me time to miss him – how can you miss something you haven't had and I hadn't had him during a working week. I wasn't used to him being there while I was brushing my teeth, or cursing having such long, thick hair that took a gazillion years to dry. I hadn't missed him; I'd enjoyed speaking with him instead, finding out who he was and what made him tick and now I was looking forward to having him next to me, inside me and afterward, curled around me.

  The doors opened and a line of people entered, immediately passing coats and accepting glasses of fizz. I lingered in the shadows, watching and sipping my drink, making it last. The restaurant filled quickly, most faces recognizable; high fashion models, a famous ex-sportsman and his wife, a few people with titles, both earned and inherited, a couple of other chefs who were supporters of Simone, one of whom presented a TV cookery show. I spoke with a few, handed out several business cards and ate some canapes which were superb. I was taking my seat at a table – as one of the perks of the job I was getting dinner – when a face I was more intimately familiar with appeared next to me.

  "I wonder if you can help me?"

  "You can always ask. If I can't help, I'll endeavor to find someone who can," I said, grinning wide enough that if anyone saw me, they'd have me on a psychiatric ward in no time.

  He shook his head. "No, I think it's you I'm looking for. I wanted to speak to the marketing director and you might be able to help me out, if you know her. You see, I've commissioned her to do some work for me and I wanted to check out her work, see if it was up to standard."

  I suddenly realized exactly why Claire had dragged me shopping for a new dress on Thursday night and encouraged me to get Sophie to do my make-up. "What's the verdict so far?"

  "It seems pretty reasonable. Low key, classy, with the right guests, I suppose. Can't think what she'd have made of my family of half-wits at the weekend," he said, standing up. I drank until my eyes were full: he was wearing a tailored tux with a blue shirt, no tie. The shirt was unbuttoned at the top, a slip of a tattoo visible and I was sure I had just melted into a pool of goo at the table. "Can I get you a drink?"

  "Champagne, please," I said, the resolve of all nature now gone.

  "Of course," he said, and I watched his ass as he shifted through the crowd, saying hello to several people and having a quick conversation with one.

  "He's hot," Alice said, making me jump as she approached. "Isn't that Jackson Callaghan?"

  "Yes," I said. "How did he get on the guest list?"

  She scrunched her eyes up. "Wednesday. I put his name on the list on Wednesday. Someone from Simone's office called and added it. Please don't ask me to work with him. He's too good looking for me to concentrate." I laughed as she sauntered away, Jackson returning with my drink and one for himself.

  "You think you're going to stick with the marketing lady?" I asked as he sat back down. "She's easy to work with, you know. Discrete, a good listener, hardworking."

  He gave me that killer grin. "I'm considering it. In fact, I was considering asking her to spend some time with me after this event she's working on. Nothing to do with work; I just want to get to know her some more. What do you think she'd say?"

  "I'm not sure. I think it'd depend on what you planned for tomorrow."

  "A lazy morning. Maybe watch some cookery show and read the papers in bed. Then we could get breakfast somewhere before we got on my bike and headed away from the city for the afternoon," he said, brushing my hand briefly.

  "And I thought you'd be planning to spend the day in bed." I sipped my champagne.

  "That's Sunday."

  "I think she'd say yes."

  "Was it Sunday that sold it?"

  "She'll tell you at the end of the weekend."

  The rest of the dinner went smoothly, the tasting menu that Simone had prepared seemed to be enjoyed, even by the couple of critics who were sat near to Jackson and me, and, as
anticipated, nothing went wrong. Towards the end of the evening, people started to mill around the bar area, sipping at complimentary cocktails or coffees before heading off to wherever their next stop was for the night. It had been a success and Simone was equally relieved and euphoric.

  "Thank you for everything," she said, coming over to me, currently shoeless, the kitten heels having proven too much. "It's gone brilliantly."

  "You're welcome," I said. "But that's not just down to me: the food, the décor, the service, have all been perfect. Maybe you should do this more often." I smiled at her, knowing full well what her reaction would be.

  "Never! Once was enough. This has been painful. If I had children, I have no doubt I'd equate it to giving birth. However, you should both come for dinner next week on the house. I can squeeze you in on Thursday – my treat." She beamed. "It might be a table in the cleaning cupboard as we really are booked up, but I'll get you in."

  I nodded graciously. "Thank you, I'd love to, although it's really been Alice who's done the work for tonight."

  "But you've masterminded it all. It's my chefs who have done the cooking tonight, and the waiting on staff who have tolerated some absolute imbeciles, but ultimately, it's my success as I coordinated it all. You have to learn to be a little arrogant sometimes, Vanessa," Simone said, looking knowingly at Jackson. "She doesn't give herself enough credit."

  My stomach sank and I felt bile rise up as I saw a man approach behind Simone. He was tall and lean and familiar in a way I wished he wasn't. Tonight wasn't when I wanted Richard to piss all over my life again. I hadn't seen him for over five months. Never again would've been too soon.

  "I beg to differ," Richard said. "I think Vanessa is extremely good at taking credit."

  Thankfully, Jackson was standing a few inches away from me and there was no physical contact, which I knew would enflame Richard even more. Unless he'd been here a while he wouldn't have any evidence to suggest I was seeing someone and for all I knew, his girlfriend was living in the apartment that I was still paying a mortgage on.