by Orla Bailey
“Who the hell do you think you are?” he fumes.
“Head of the Caid dynasty and CEO of CaidCo. If you can’t work for me, I can work out a very favourable retirement package for you. What’s it to be?”
“You’ll never be able to run this place. When Harry died, the business died with him.”
“And it will never evolve all the time a dinosaur like you stomps around flattening its progress. I’m your boss. If you don’t like it, leave. Now get out of my office and do what I pay you to do.”
“We’ll see about that.”
I know he’s staggered by this strange woman standing with her hands on her couture-covered hips in front of him, because he marches towards the door and I gather up his newspaper to throw in the rubbish bin.
“Still looking to get by making headlines while we’re here meeting deadlines?” he shouts back. It’s a pretty cheap shot reminding me of the petty harassment he engineered over those unfortunate pictures of me at the ball and I’m not naïve enough to believe he won’t try to cause more trouble.
My hand freezes on the newspaper. Brent knows our engagement has been announced as Jack did that very thing last Monday, but he won’t have seen the official photographs yet. They’ve only just been taken.
“Is that your clumsy way of offering your congratulations? My personal life has no bearing on CaidCo, any more than yours does.”
“Screwing your way to a contract with Zee-Com shows a whole lot of class. Harry would be ashamed of you.”
Now it’s Brent who prods at my raw nerves. “Harry put the company in my hands because he knew there was no one who would handle it better than me. I’m the best person to take it into the future.”
“Harry was an old fool with a blind spot.”
Any sentimental desire to retain Brent’s services for Harry’s sake dissolves like salt in water at that crass comment.
“Consider yourself issued with a verbal warning. I’ll make sure you have that fact in writing by the end of the day so we’re clear.”
“You can’t warn me about anything.”
“I just have. You’re rude to your colleagues, argumentative and impossible to work with and you refuse to follow reasonable instructions from your boss. Now go and tell all staff there will be a board meeting in thirty minutes. That’s an order. If I don’t see you there, I’ll consider that a sign that you have no intention of improving your attitude or your employment prospects despite your initial warning.”
“You can bloody well go and take a running jump, you little bitch. When I leave I’ll take all my clients with me.”
“You can try, Brent Tapper and if they go, I reckon it will be worth it to be shot of your dead weight. CaidCo won’t sink without them and it won’t sink without you. I’ll make sure of that. Close my door behind you.”
Of course he doesn’t so I stand firm puffing like a steam train until he’s out of sight and out of earshot. He’s cursing and muttering as he thunders through the building, no doubt looking for support. He slams his own office door. I seem to be making a lot of enemies lately. I retrieve my chair and sink into it. My legs tremble and my heart bangs in my chest like a pile-driver. But I’m ecstatic. And I didn’t have a panic attack either.
I’ve done what I should have done months ago and I know who has given me the courage to do it. It’s a revelation. Jack hasn’t diminished me, he’s made me stronger just as he promised he would.
The doorway widens slowly and Libby peeks cautiously round. “Is it safe to come in?”
I laugh. “It’s always safe for you to come in. Close the door behind you, please.”
She enters and sits opposite. “Half the building heard that row.”
“Good. It will give them a chance to decide whose side they’re on. If I have to lose half the workforce, I think a more streamlined agency with a few new, younger members will be a positive change. One thing’s for sure, matters can’t stay as they are.”
“They haven’t,” she says giving me a small grin. “I believe congratulations may be in order.”
“I presume you’re referring to my engagement rather than my bad temper.” I don’t like lying to anyone and especially not to Libby.
“Of course I am. Come here.” Libby shuffles round the desk and hugs me tight.
“Thank you.” I settle for a bland response.
She searches for my hand under the desk. “Let’s see the ring then. Not that I could miss one like that at twenty paces.”
I hold out my hand and she grabs my fingers and whistles. “Huge. Pink. Huge and pink. All huge, sparkly and pink.” She tears her eyes away from the object in question and glances up at me for a second. “Did I mention huge?”
Her enthusiasm makes me laugh despite my reservations. “You did. It is pretty.”
“And pink.”
“Definitely pink.”
“It’s so romantic. Why doesn’t anyone give me a romantic huge pink diamond?”
“One day you’ll get yours,” I assure her. One day I might get my own for real too. I feel such a fraud. There’s absolutely nothing romantic about the circumstances that have me temporarily wearing this ring. It’s brash deception, pure and simple. False advertising.
She hugs me tight. “I’m so happy for you, honey. Now what are we going to do to make this company all pink and sparkly too? Not to mention huge.”
“What aren’t we going to do?”
Libby and I grin at each other. We’re the two youngest members of staff here and at times it’s been like wading through quicksand trying to get people to accept new ways of working and thinking. Senior managers have held such clout up until now, change seemed impossible.
My mind flies off in a million new directions. Innovation is where my strength lies, not in trying to stay faithful to Harry’s traditional ways. The company has to change; I can see that now.
“If we’re more youthful and dynamic and less conventional, I believe we could attract a whole raft of new clientele that won’t mean we’re held to ransom by retaining the loyalty of older clients or staff.”
“Perhaps there’s room for both,” Libby suggests diplomatically.
My creative energy is in overdrive. I think about all the companies whose business we’ve handled for a long time.
“Since Zee-Com pulled out, some of our older clients have been threatening to move on too.” I always thought it was because of me but now I’m not so sure. “It’s the way this business is currently structured. The way we’ve always operated.”
“This sounds exciting. I haven’t been excited about CaidCo for a long time,” Libby admits, looking a tad guilty.
“Me neither,” I reassure her. “No wonder we’re failing. We’ve been clinging to the old-school operation that Harry established years ago, but that’s not playing to our current strengths. How many young, trendy businesses are out there, Libby, needing representation?”
“Thousands. Hundreds of thousands.”
“A whole new potential market for us. Perhaps we should create two distinct teams. Traditionalists at CaidCo can continue to work with existing clients or ones that prefer the more conservative approach but we could create a younger more dynamic division to hunt and handle hip new business.”
Libby’s smile is huge and I can’t help but feel thrilled to think things are turning for the better already.
“The concept sounds amazing, Tabitha. I hate to say this but I’ve considered leaving before now.” She looks at me apologetically.
“I know the feeling. I’ve been so busy trying to live up to Harry’s ideals and keep old farts like Brent Tapper happy, that I’ve lost sight of what we bring to the table.”
“A whole new beginning for CaidCo.”
“And that’s exactly what we need. We’re young. We understand the new world better than any of the older guys here. Don’t get me wrong, I know I can still learn from their years of experience, but they can learn something from us too. It’s about time they realised tha
t.”
“How will you restructure things?”
“I’ll have to think a bit about the details but I want to put my decision to the staff straightaway. If they prefer to move on, I’ll give them time to secure other jobs. If they’re feeling like us and crave a new challenge, they can work with existing clients in the more traditional manner if that suits their business model.”
“And…?”
I laugh at her encouragement and think I’ve just got my first member of staff on board. “We’ll hire lively, go-ahead young graduates who’ll regenerate this place with new ideas and bring new, young business on board. I think we should start a new internship programme too.” People who will fully accept me as their boss.
It isn’t so very different to what Harry did all those years ago. He took on new enterprise when he agreed to represent the young Jack Keogh and his new company, Zee-Com, and look what amazing things that did for both of them. We need to revitalise ourselves in a similar way again.
I feel so good I have a sudden spirit of generosity come upon me. “I might offer Brent the role of heading up the trad division. It would satisfy his need to be boss and sweeten him a little.”
Libby looks dubious. “Are you sure about that?”
“Not at all.” I give her a look that says I hope I know what I’m doing. “But I’m prepared to give him one last chance to work with me. For Harry and old times’ sake.”
“Are you still making his verbal warning official? I heard you, you know.”
“Too right.” We both laugh. “He either does this my way or I want him out.”
“He isn’t going to like it.”
“Frankly, I’m counting on it.”
“So what do you need me to do?”
“Type a letter to advise Brent of his verbal warning and invite him to meet with me to discuss the improvements I expect from him. Outline how he can raise a grievance in writing, if he wishes to. Give it to me to sign when you’re done.”
Libby nods. “Is that wise?”
I’m doing this by the book. “It’s the only way I can do this legally. If it comes to it and he has to go, I don’t want anything, like a lawsuit, to get in the way of his smooth, legitimate removal.”
“Anything else?”
“Postpone the five pm meeting and you can check if Brent even told them, as instructed, while you’re at it. We need to keep a record of his unacceptable behaviour. Re-arrange the meeting for all staff in the boardroom tomorrow at noon. That should give me time to work out an outline proposal for a way forward.”
“You’ve got it, Miss Caid.” She walks to the door, turns back and smirks at me. “Welcome back, honey.”
“Thanks, Libby. I’m delighted to be back.” For the first time since Harry died, it’s true. I have a new sense of optimism about the future, at least as far as CaidCo is concerned. Jack is a whole other matter.
I get on the phone to caterers and order a buffet lunch, a celebration cake and Champagne to be delivered before midday tomorrow. I intend to start with a charm offensive and a new note of confidence and positivity. My time spent being mentored by Jack hasn’t been a complete waste of time, after all.
* * *
The next few hours are spent catching up on things and sketching out ideas to turn CaidCo’s head into the wind to make for twenty-first century shores. I don’t even stop for coffee. The cup Libby brings sits cooling on my sticky-note-strewn desk.
I’m so busy I ignore every phone call leaving Libby to sort the essential from the mundane. It’s encouraging to discover a few members of staff stop by briefly to welcome me back and offer their congratulations on my engagement before they leave to meet clients or head home at the end of the day. Perhaps the added clout of being associated personally with Jack Keogh is surfacing but it feels reassuring nonetheless. It seems many still don’t want to cross that bully Brent by openly offering me support, but a few, at least, appear to be having nobler thoughts. It’s a start. I make a mental note of who is likely to remain in one or other of my two new divisions.
Libby enters. “I’m to tell you to answer your phone.”
I glance up at her strange manner. “By whom?” As if I couldn’t guess.
“Jack Keogh has been calling you since five o’clock. He’s getting a bit…”
I snort. I know exactly how he can get. “Tell him I’m busy. I’ll see him back at Belvedere tonight.”
“He said you’d say that.” She looks a little hesitant. “He also said if you don’t pick up the phone to him, he’ll be straight round to speak to you in person. Sorry, honey. I tried but he’s not an easy man to stall.”
“Tell me about it. He’s plain bossy. Expects his own way. All. The. Time.” Especially with me. Maybe now’s the time to stand my ground there too.
At that precise moment my desk phone’s red light flashes. I’ve had the sound muted. Libby and I stare at each other.
“Do you want me to try telling him again, you’re busy?” she asks warily but gamely.
I even consider it for a few seconds, just to let him know he can’t push me around in my own company. Then I shrug, sigh and pick up. Libby leaves.
“CaidCo. Tabitha Caid speaking.” I say it as casually as if I have no idea who is on the other end of the line.
“I expect to be able to reach my fiancée without having to jump through hoops.”
I adopt a neutral tone but my heart races just talking to him. “Jack? Is this important? I’m rather busy right now. Couldn’t it wait until tonight?” At this point I’m teasing him.
“No it couldn’t. You said you were remaining at Belvedere this afternoon.”
“Actually you suggested it. I only said I might, if I remember. But I changed my mind.”
“Typical.”
He sounds so annoyed with me I can’t help myself. I hang up and wait, staring at the equipment. It rings again immediately. Does he have my office on speed dial?
I go through the process again, grinning. “CaidCo. Tabitha Caid speaking.” For some reason I’m in high spirits and can’t help tormenting him.
“Cute. If you hang up on me again, the next time you hear my voice I’ll be standing right behind it.”
“Not if I run.” I just can’t help myself.
He goes silent for a second. “You gave me your word...” His voice is low and cautioning. “When I phoned Belvedere and was told you were gone –”
He thought I’d fled again, like last Monday. I know immediately I’ve stepped over one of his lines in the sand. “I didn’t run, Jack. I won’t. I changed my mind about staying indoors and came to work, that’s all.” I wonder if Lenuta deliberately misled him about my departure. What was it she said? Don’t give him everything he wants. Make him want it more. “I’ll be home soon.”
“I thought you were busy.”
“I am. Did you want something?”
“You didn’t wait for Blackstock to drive you.”
“I took the underground. I didn’t want to be a problem.”
“You’re not a problem but you don’t have your car. I need to know what time to pick you up.”
“I’ll take the underground home again.”
“I’m not having you travelling by underground.”
I’m taken aback. “I got here by underground. I’ve travelled that way hundreds of times.”
“You’re engaged to me now. You won’t be travelling like that again.”
That presumption really gets on my nerves. “Just because you think you’re all that in your chauffeur-driven Bentley, doesn’t mean I’ve changed. I’ll take public transport any time I like.”
“No you won’t.”
“For goodness sake, Jack. It’s perfectly fine. I don’t want to become something I’m not just because I’m temporarily linked to you.”
I hear him huff down the phone. “You’ll do as I tell you.”
That makes me mad. “I won’t. I’m not one of your employees. You can’t order me to do anything
.”
“You’re my fiancée and yes I can. You’re not taking the underground. Blackstock will pick you up. All I need to know is what time.”
“No time. I’m taking the underground train!” I realise I’ve been raising my voice. He’s so exasperating and I don’t want to be overheard, especially saying the wrong thing. It’s hard work living a lie. But Jack needs to know that I’m not going to adopt his lifestyle just to change it back again once he’s through with me. I quieten my voice. “Can’t we talk about this tonight?”
“There’s no point. You won’t change my mind.”
“Well you won’t change mine.”
“Tabitha.” He gentles his voice too. “You’re making this sound like I’m being unreasonable.”
“That’s probably because you are being unreasonable.”
“I’m doing this for your safety and protection.”
“What possible harm can come to me on public transport in rush hour? I’ve done it perfectly safely thousands of times.” He didn’t care back then.
“That was before you were publically linked to me.”
“What difference does that make? God, Jack, I don’t know how many broken-hearted females you think will be lying in wait for me on the London underground.” I can think of one right off, though. “Or why I should suddenly think I’m too good to travel on public transport just because I’m associated with you.” Amanda wouldn’t argue with Jack about being chauffeur-driven everywhere. It isn’t good to think she’s so much more suited to his lifestyle than I am. It’s almost like admitting they belong together, not him and me.
“I’m not saying you’re too good.”
“Are you saying I’m not good enough?” I’m not sure if I’m looking for a fight now or he is.
“It’s got nothing to do with not being good enough. Of course you’re good enough. Too good.”
Is that the lame excuse he’ll give the press for why he eventually rejects me, without making him seem like a complete heel? “Then what’s the problem?”