Executive Affair

by Ber Carroll

  ‘It was different with Dianne – she and Robert were very unhappy.’ Cherie had a slight pain in her head and she was very tired. ‘Why don’t you go home and talk to him?’

  ‘I’ll have another drink, then I’ll go. Do you have any gin?’ She pushed her empty glass towards Cherie.

  ‘There’s some in the cupboard.’

  ‘Thanks. Just make it straight.’

  Cherie was annoyed with herself for giving in. Julia drank too much and she hated contributing in any way to her getting drunk. It was hard to resist her. Even though Julia was generally a weak person, she could be very manipulative when it came to alcohol. There was an uncomfortable silence as Julia drank her gin and Cherie plucked up the courage to say what was on her mind.

  ‘Do you think it would help if you saw someone?’ she said finally, concern creasing her forehead into worried lines. ‘I mean a counsellor or someone like that? You’ve been so unhappy and they might help you get things into perspective.’

  ‘A shrink! You’re kidding, right?’ Julia was looking at Cherie as if she was insane. ‘If there’s one thing that would finish off my marriage it’s seeing a shrink. Robert despises people who can’t control their emotions.’

  Cherie stared back at her, seeing her face blotched from crying, and her eyes glazed from the gin. She decided to persevere. ‘What about AA? Have you ever considered going to one of their meetings?’

  ‘Oh, for God sakes! Surely you don’t think I’m an alcoholic! Maybe you need to go to one of those meetings yourself and see what kind of people go.’

  ‘All sorts of people go to AA, Julia … doctors, priests …’

  Julia looked at her suspiciously. ‘You seem to know a hell of a lot about AA all of a sudden.’

  ‘Yes, I’ve been reading up on them. I think I have a friend who has an alcohol problem.’ She looked directly at Julia, challenging the denial she would make.

  ‘I can give up drinking whenever I want. I did it before for a few months … it was before you knew me … I admit I have some problems – but they’re to do with my marriage, not alcohol.’

  ‘Okay, if you insist. But why not get some counselling to straighten yourself out?’

  ‘Come on, now. You know that’s not necessary.’

  ‘You said you had problems …’

  Julia didn’t know how to handle Cherie’s persistence; she hadn’t been exposed to it previously.

  ‘I don’t see how talking to a stranger will help me.’

  ‘It can be very powerful to talk honestly to someone you don’t know.’

  Julia hesitated only to find herself locked in Cherie’s determined stare. It was impossible not to give in.

  ‘Okay, okay. Anything to get you off my back. I’ll think about it. Okay?’

  ‘Okay.’

  Saturday morning was crisp and sunny. Julia woke feeling more optimistic. Robert was already up.

  Cherie is right, he’s just busy at work. I should be more understanding, considering the pressure he’s under. I’ll be really nice to him today … we’ll have a good weekend together. Everything will be fine.

  She felt a wave of nausea as she pulled back the covers. She sat on the side of the bed until it passed. The nausea was happening too often.

  I need to cut down, just have one or two drinks and stop at that. I’m always feeling sick these days … I need to get healthy … but Cherie was totally overreacting with AA … I can manage this myself.

  She had a long shower, carefully washing away the stale smell of booze. She put on a pair of tight jeans and a white linen shirt. She tied her blonde hair back in a ponytail and leaned closer to the mirror to examine the ravages of the previous night.

  I look so old – when did that happen? His secretary is only nineteen – how can I compete with her? Stop it! Stop it! Think positive. He’s married to me. He must love me.

  She took care with her make-up, using a concealer to disguise the shadows under her eyes and a hint of blusher to give her colour.

  I’ve got to stop drinking … I look pale, ill … Maybe I will see a counsellor, but I’m not going to AA.

  She found him in the courtyard, reading the morning paper. There was an air of tranquillity to the scene, his absorption in what he was reading, the brightness of the sun, the peaceful green of the plants. It belied the turmoil of their marriage. She admired him from the doorway. He was a very sexy man, his Californian tan looking fresh against the blue of his shirt. His hair and eyes were the same chocolate brown, a neatly trimmed beard accentuating his masculinity. She felt a sudden rush of love for him.

  She kissed him on the cheek and sat down.

  ‘Good morning, honey. Sorry I missed you last night,’ she smiled, resting her hand affectionately on his arm.

  ‘Morning,’ he said, without raising his eyes from the paper.

  ‘Isn’t it a gorgeous day … maybe we should go for a drive?’ she suggested, squinting up at the sun.

  ‘I can’t. I need to go into the office,’ he said, his refusal hurtfully abrupt.

  ‘Well, maybe I could meet you for lunch then?’ she persisted.

  He sighed and looked up from the paper. ‘I don’t have the time today. I have a lot to get through.’ He folded the paper and stood up. ‘I’ll see you later.’

  The front door slammed in his wake. Disappointment flooded her, then anger, and all her good intentions of being understanding and supportive disappeared under a cloud of renewed suspicion.

  She waited until she heard the Mercedes reverse out of the drive and speed away. She followed him in the Audi, scratching the passenger door against the gatepost in her haste. She drove as if her life depended on it and within seconds she had his car in sight.

  She stayed with him, running a few reds so she wouldn’t get left behind. He drove his normal route to work and his car disappeared down into the underground carpark. Julia waited across the street. The lights came on in Level 3 and she saw his silhouette moving towards his desk. There was no other woman, only his work. And it clearly took priority over his wife.

  If only Robert didn’t work for Amtech … He is so obsessed with his job, he doesn’t have any time for a wife.

  She saw him get up and open a filing cabinet. He took out a document and read it for a few moments before returning to his seat, his back to the window.

  They would have to fire him, that’s the only way he would leave. But Donald would never fire a vice-president. It would be bad publicity – he’s too damned conservative for that. I guess if he really wanted to get rid of someone, he would pay them out. That would be good … I would get Robert to myself and we wouldn’t suffer financially. I wonder how much Donald would pay to get rid of a vice-president.

  She stayed outside thinking about it until the clenching in her stomach reminded her that she hadn’t yet eaten breakfast.

  Robert sat with his back to the splendid view. It was dark outside and the lights of the other buildings glowed, giving an illusion of warmth that belied the rather cold evening it was. He was deep in conversation with Tony Falcinella, the finance director for Asia.

  ‘We’ve interviewed twelve candidates and there’s nobody even remotely suitable,’ Tony said, his frustration clear from his tone. He had spent the last two months in Sydney while his wife and children were in Hong Kong. Even though travel was a prerequisite for his position in the company, he was a home bird and tried to avoid going overseas.

  ‘Have we advertised?’ Robert asked.

  ‘Yes. Very prominent ads in the Sydney Morning Herald and the Financial Review. We’re also using two of the most prestigious employment agencies. They keep telling me it’s hard to get good finance people in Sydney at the moment.’

  Robert turned in his seat so he could look at the view. It was a rare moment that he stopped to enjoy the peculiar beauty of the concrete towers, speckled with lights.

  ‘How are the finance team coping without Harry?’

  ‘They’re doing fine. Claire is very
competent. But there are a few big deals on the horizon and Steve Ryan feels that she doesn’t have quite enough experience. She’s only in her mid-twenties.’ Tony was fully informed, having made it his business to meet Claire as well as having discussed the situation in depth with Steve on a number of occasions. He had been in favour of offering the job to her when the other candidates had not come through but Steve was adamant that she needed more experience.

  ‘I know Claire – I organised her transfer from Dublin. I’m glad that she’s doing well. When do you reckon she would be up to the job?’

  ‘Well, she’s certainly technically capable. She just needs to develop a better understanding of the business … maybe a year or so?’

  ‘What if we transferred someone from San Jose on a year’s assignment? Do you think that would work?’ Robert spoke slowly as he usually did when his mind was running ahead with possible solutions.

  ‘That’s a great idea!’ Tony said enthusiastically, a speedy return to Hong Kong now looking possible. ‘Then Claire would be ready to take the job at the end of the year. Do you have someone in mind?’

  ‘Not straight off. But let me think about it.’

  Robert sat still for a long time after the call ended, his feet on the desk. It was nine-thirty at night and there was nobody left in the office. He knew that Tony was trying hard but, best case, the recruitment process would take at least another two months. Australia was the third largest international subsidiary in the world. It would be highly undesirable if the business had to operate without a finance director for a total of four months.

  He wondered who he could send to Sydney. Scott would never move his family. Ritchie was involved in a major project for the next six months. Robert couldn’t recall how many times he had been to Sydney. He did so much international travel that all the business trips blurred together in his memory. He had always liked Sydney, though. It was a beautiful city and whoever got to go would be a lucky bastard.

  He left for home reluctantly, turning off the lights on his way out. Ten years ago the place would have been buzzing at this hour. The eighties, a decade of hard work and hard play. Not many new faces had joined the company since then and that youthful and enthusiastic culture had been lost. No more late nights at work or drinking beer in the bar across the street afterwards. He missed those days. His colleagues now worked ‘family hours’ and he felt he didn’t fit in any more. He wasn’t a family man and never would be. He wished he could turn the clock back.

  He put on a Queen CD as he drove through the quiet suburban streets. Queen, the best band of the eighties. It was exactly ten miles from the office to their house in South San Jose. The darkness concealed the flat arid landscape and the grid-like predictability of the streets. San Jose and Sydney were very different places.

  Somewhere along the twenty-minute drive home, he decided to go to Sydney himself. He reasoned that he could cover the important aspects of his current job from there whilst maintaining the finance director role until Claire was ready for it. A change of scene was exactly what he needed; it would get him out of this terrible rut with Julia.

  He’d realised from the very start that he’d made a mistake. An empty bottle of Jack Daniels and his new wife passed out on the bed were not exactly honeymoon material. He’d given it a year, hoping he would be proved wrong, but things had only got worse. He could see now that he’d married because of loneliness, not love, and with Julia’s problems, only the strongest most enduring love would make the marriage work. He was sorry that he didn’t feel it, sorry that he had come into her life at all, sorry that there was going to be another divorce for them both.

  He arrived home to find her waiting for him. Sitting in the living room with no TV on, she at least appeared to be sober.

  ‘Have you eaten?’

  She jumped up eagerly and he unconsciously flinched at the possibility of physical contact.

  ‘No … I completely forgot,’ he said wearily as he shrugged off his jacket and loosened his tie, moving away from her as subtly as he could.

  ‘I’ll make you something quick. You could browse through these in the meantime.’ She placed some holiday brochures on the coffee table. ‘I think we need a holiday, we haven’t had one since our honeymoon. If you keep working this hard, you’ll have a heart attack before you’re fifty! Some of those islands look fantastic – you have your own private beach and they serve you cocktails –’

  She stopped midstream. She must have read his face.

  ‘I’m sorry, Julia. I’m going to Sydney next week.’

  ‘Sydney? How long are you going for? Maybe I could organise some leave from work.’

  ‘Six months minimum. It could turn into a year.’

  Julia looked like she was going to be sick. ‘Are we moving there?’

  Robert sighed. ‘No. We’re not. I think we need some space from each other … I have some things I need to sort out.’

  ‘What things?’ she said, her voice shrill. ‘You can’t mean I’m not going to see you for six months.’

  ‘Don’t overreact, Julia. I will need to come back to San Jose a few times so that my role here isn’t neglected. You’ll see plenty of me.’

  ‘Are you totally crazy?’ Wayne asked, obviously shocked.

  ‘I’ll have two beers, please,’ Robert said to the barman. ‘No, I’m not crazy – I just need some time out.’

  ‘But what about your job here? Don’t you think Donald needs his VP of Finance in the same time zone as him?’

  They sat at the bar. Wayne would go home after one drink; it wasn’t worth moving to a table.

  ‘Actually, Donald is very sympathetic. He’s been through some rough times himself.’

  ‘Donald’s got too soft since he married Lisa,’ Wayne said cuttingly. ‘He’s too easy to manipulate.’

  Robert looked at Wayne and wondered at what point he’d turned into a middle-aged bore. ‘Leave Lisa alone. She’s a great lady.’

  Wayne frowned and took a mouthful of beer, before asking, ‘What about Julia – how does she fit into all of this?’

  ‘Julia’s not coming. She’s largely the reason I want to get away, so it wouldn’t make sense for her to come with me, would it?’ Robert was slightly defensive.

  ‘So, you’re leaving her? She must be devastated.’

  ‘I don’t think she knows what to make of it. She certainly won’t admit to herself that our marriage is on the rocks.’

  Robert took his cigarettes out. He was surprised that Wayne took one when he offered. He passed Wayne the lighter.

  ‘Do you even know anybody over in Sydney?’ It took Wayne a few fumbled attempts to light the cigarette.

  ‘I know a few faces from my previous visits. I guess you also know some people through your role, right?’

  Wayne didn’t answer; he seemed to be intensely preoccupied. Robert stared at him for a few moments and Wayne visibly jumped when he noticed.

  ‘Some …’ Wayne inhaled in awkward jerks. ‘I still think you’re crazy if you believe that you can hold a vice-president’s position from Sydney. It’s not going to work.’

  Robert shrugged. ‘I think it will work, Wayne. There’s no reason it shouldn’t.’

  It was the weekend before he got to speak to Cherie.

  ‘I was wondering if you would call around,’ she said when she opened the door.

  ‘You know I would never go away without seeing you.’ Robert kissed her affectionately on the cheek. ‘Is Wayne at home?’ He followed Cherie into the kitchen. It looked as if she was in the middle of preparing dinner.

  ‘No, you just missed him. He took the kids to the park so I could get dinner ready in peace. Would you like a coffee?’

  ‘No, thanks for the offer, but I’m a little short of time today.’ Robert sat on one of the wooden stools, his arms folded across the granite benchtop.

  ‘You’re always short of time, Robert,’ Cherie said, shaking her head.

  ‘I know. I know. I’m hoping to chill
out somewhat when I get to Sydney.’

  Cherie resumed the food preparation, chopping vegetables with an impressive speed.

  ‘Julia isn’t taking this move to Sydney very well, Robert. She’s extremely upset and I’m afraid that she’ll go on a binge the minute you leave town.’

  ‘I think that’s likely too. That’s why I’m glad I’ve got you on your own. I wanted to ask you to talk to her about AA.’

  ‘I’ve spoken to her about it already and she just doesn’t want to know. I’m trying to get her to see a counsellor as a fall-back plan. She seems more open to that.’

  Robert gave Cherie a grateful smile. ‘Thank you. I really appreciate your help.’

  ‘Julia’s my friend. I’m very fond of her and I want to make sure she gets some help. I’ll be straight with you, Robert. I don’t understand why you haven’t confronted her about her drinking.’ She stopped what she was doing to wait for his answer.

  ‘I’ve tried. Believe me, I’ve tried. But Julia refuses to have an argument or a confrontation of any sort since our honeymoon. She clams up, won’t speak about it, and will not admit to the drinking. I think you have a much better chance of getting through to her – at least she does confide in you to some extent.’

  He didn’t tell Cherie that he was backing out of the marriage and trying to cause the least possible damage with his exit. Finding help for Julia, making her sober and strong and stable, seemed like a sensible first step. Once that was in place, he could focus on the legalities.

  He called Claire Quinlan when he got home from Cherie’s. If his calculations on the time difference were correct, it should be Monday morning in Sydney.

  ‘Claire, it’s Robert Pozos.’ He could hear the sound of her keyboard as she typed.

  ‘Oh … hello, Robert.’ She stopped typing.

  ‘How have you been?’

  ‘Very busy,’ she answered frankly. He remembered the soft lilt of her voice from the last time they spoke, before she left Ireland.

  ‘I understand … I do appreciate all your hard work and I hope that I have good news for you in that help is on the way.’