Chapter 9
Aiden waited for his car to be brought round. He was not happy. Not only did he have an embezzler to deal with, his employees were dealing drugs and poisoning girls in nightclubs. Not my employees, he thought.
He wondered how the girl in intensive care was doing and which department she came from. I’ll find out tomorrow, find out if any of the rest of the staff are involved. What’s wrong with the company? he asked himself. It was only the head office that seemed to have problems; when he’d visited the construction site, everything had felt fine.
The car pulled up, and he got into the back without waiting for the driver to come around. He was sorry he’d upset Tallulah. How was I to know her mother was a drug casualty? He promised himself he would apologise the next day. He wondered again how old she’d been when her mother had died.
She still reminded him of a fairy. A slight fairy, an efficient fairy, an angry fairy, a fairy with sex appeal . . . He cut himself off. She was his assistant and off limits, at least until he knew how long he’d have to stay in London. It had only been a month since the fiasco with Sasha, and if he wanted a casual fling, there were better places to look than in his own office, especially as Tallulah gave off vibes suggesting that she would find a slug more appealing than him at the moment.
The car dropped him off at the private hospital near Guildford an hour and a half later. Once again, the traffic had been horrendous. New York traffic was bad enough, but he was convinced London and its surroundings were worse. In the end, he took his laptop out of his briefcase and reviewed the files Tallulah had sent. He pulled one of the plastic envelopes out of his briefcase and skimmed through the accounts for the rest of the journey.
His father was sitting in the armchair by his bed when Aiden arrived; pale and tired, but still looking better than the last time he’d visited. He should have left the hospital the previous week, but his recovery had been slower than anticipated. Francesca was already there, perched on the end of the bed.
She stood up when Aiden came in. “I’d better go.”
“Where’s Gareth?” Aiden had the idea that her fiancé was never far from her side.
“He had a late meeting.” Francesca glowered at him as though she still blamed him for the fact that he was in charge and not her. “See you later. I’ll be staying with Mother.”
Aiden sat on the empty upright chair. “How are you feeling?”
“Weary.” His father closed his eyes and rested his head against the cushions. “I didn’t think I’d be so tired.”
“You’ll be better once you’re home.” Aiden looked out the window at the neatly manicured gardens. The private hospital was luxurious and the private room better than a crowded ward, but it was still an institution.
“I suppose so. How’s it going at work? Settling in?”
“I’m just getting familiar with the current projects,” Aiden said. “Did you know Elaine resigned?”
“She came to see me,” his father said. His mouth formed a small, complacent smile. “She told me she’d only stayed so long because of me, and now was a good time for her to finish. She’s an amazing woman.”
Aiden held back his reaction. He thought it a terrible time to finish. He was furious with Elaine and wondered if the rumours about her and his father were still true; if their affair was still alive. I bet it is. It would certainly explain her attitude. He wasn’t going to ask.
“Her substitute’s been arrested.” Aiden assumed the police would have tracked Davy down by now. “His mother’s a friend of yours. Tollington-Rees?”
His father shook his head but didn’t look interested.
“My most-recent assistant looks like a fairy who’s run riot in a fabric shop.” Aiden tried to engage his father, but it was hard work.
“Have you any idea about the discrepancy in the accounts yet?”
Aiden’s mother pushed the door open. “You’re not talking about work, are you? William, remember what the doctor said?” She gave Aiden a reproving look. “Don’t bother him with company business.”
Aiden stood up. “I’ll leave you in peace. I’ll see you at dinner, Mother. And I’ll see you tomorrow morning, Father.”
At nine-thirty the next morning, a private ambulance cruised slowly up the drive and came to a halt by the front door. Two agency nurses helped his father out of the back, both of them middle-aged women, dressed in crisp blue uniforms. They escorted him into the house with an easy competence, introducing themselves to Aiden and his mother, before inspecting the invalid’s accommodation. One of them would be on call at all times. Aiden suspected it was overkill; most people were discharged from hospital with no help whatsoever, but he couldn’t see his mother acting as ministering angel.
His father settled into an armchair in the small sunroom with a sigh of relief. “I want real coffee.”
“No,” his mother said. “You know you’ve been told you can’t have it.”
“Proper tea then?”
“You shouldn’t, but I suppose it won’t do you any harm.” She shook her head and rang for the maid.
Aiden could have used a cup of strong coffee, but he stuck to the tea provided. Francesca grimaced, but she did the same.
“How’s the progress on the Essex development?” William asked.
“It’s—”
“William. Stop it. And Aiden. You should know better.” His mother snapped at both of them.
“Sorry.” He held up his hands in surrender and instead told both his parents about aspects of his life in New York.
“How’s the girl you brought to Francesca’s engagement party?” his mother asked. “Sasha, wasn’t it? She was a nice girl and very pretty. Isn’t it time you were thinking of settling down?”
“It certainly is,” his father said. “Look at Francesca. She’s two years younger than you, and she’ll be married in November.”
Francesca raised her eyes to the ceiling.
“We split up,” Aiden said. “A week before I flew over here. We wanted different things.” He still thought he’d been committed to the relationship. Sasha turned weird. I don’t understand what went wrong. It was odd when he thought about how bad he felt the day after the breakup. It must have been the whiskey, because he hadn’t given her more than a moment’s thought since he arrived in the UK. He wondered if maybe he just hadn’t been that enthusiastic about her. They’d been together three years, and he’d almost forgotten her after a month. Perhaps she was right about my commitment.
He stood up. “It’s time I was getting to work.” The driver was due to pick him up at eleven.
Francesca got to her feet. “I’ll come with you. I might as well leave my car here and travel back with Gareth tomorrow evening.” She bent and kissed her father’s forehead. “Look after yourself.”
The car was waiting in the drive, and the driver emerged to hold the rear door open for Francesca. Aiden climbed in the opposite side.
Once the car glided onto the main road, she turned to him. “How’s it going? Are you enjoying being in charge?”
Aiden ignored the edge to her voice. “The place is a disaster. How’ve you all let it get into that state?” Why should I be tactful? She certainly isn’t. He was tired of her not-so-passive aggression.
“What do you mean? Are you talking about the police yesterday?”
“It’s not just that. It’s the whole atmosphere in the place. People clock watch, everyone looks bored, and the senior management team haven’t a clue what’s going on.” He narrowed his eyes at her. “I thought you were part of the team. Where were you at the last meeting?”
Francesca flushed, and he guessed she’d deliberately stayed away. “Some of those meetings are completely pointless.”
“So, you don’t bother turning up?”
“Aiden, you have no idea how frustrating it is. Every time I suggest doing something even slightly different from the way it’s always been done, I get shouted down. I think Father would pat me on the head and tell me not to worry if he didn’t think he’d lose the hand.” Her voice rose at the end of the speech.
“It’s that bad?”
“Yes.”
“I’ve no idea why you wanted to be in charge then. It sounds like a poisoned chalice. At least I’m not going to be around for the fallout.”
“It’s my company,” Francesca hissed. “I want to sort it out.”
“Then you should turn up at the meetings.”
They lapsed into silence.
“You’ve got a busy day?” They were walking up the steps to the main entrance before she spoke again.
“I want to talk to some of the staff about the drug thing,” Aiden said. “You heard what the police said?”
“I heard a rumour that something was going on and saw your email. What happened?”
“Davy Tollington-Rees.” Aiden said, kicking at the step as he paused outside the doors. “My last assistant was a drug lord. You know his mother’s a friend of ours?”
“Nepotism.” Francesca shook her head sadly, ignoring the fact that she’d benefited significantly from her family connections.
“What about you?” he asked. “What are you up to today?”
“I’ve a site visit. A new development out past The Isle of Dogs.” Francesca’s background was in architecture, and she played a major role in the design of some of the developments, overseeing the teams of in-house architects employed by the firm.
Aiden knew there was no way she’d have that sort of position, if her father hadn’t been the chief executive and major shareholder in the company. Mind you, there would be no way I’d be occupying the chief executive’s seat, even on a temporary basis, if not for my father.
He parted from Francesca and headed for his office.
~ ~ ~
Tallulah’s desk was unoccupied and her computer locked, but there were signs that she was around. A long lilac linen scarf was wound around the back of the chair. He glanced at his watch. It was twelve thirty; she must be at lunch. He realised he was hungry himself and decided to check his emails before going out for a sandwich.
He scrolled through his messages until he came to one from the head of security. Davy had been tracked down by the police and would apparently be charged. The email confirmed he was at work, so if Aiden wanted to see him, he could. According to the security head, the hospitalised girl was from the contracts department. Aiden decided he wanted to have a word with her colleagues.
He leaned back in his desk and closed his eyes, wishing that he was back in New York. His company didn’t have such problems. His company only employed thirty people, and he knew them all. He’d been involved in the recruitment of every single employee; he knew their names and quite a lot about their lives and viewed most of them as friends. His company was exactly the right size.
He picked up the phone and called security. “Paul? It’s Aiden Marlowe. Thanks for letting me know where we are.”
He listened while Paul told him what the police had said.
“I’ll talk to Davy this afternoon. I’ll get Human Resources in. I want him off the premises.” He could feel his blood pressure rising and he’d only been in the office for five minutes. He put the phone down and headed back out into the heat of the street to find some lunch, thinking that Tallulah should have been around to do that. What was the point of having an assistant? He bet his father never had to get his own lunch.
As he walked out of the main entrance, she walked in. He recognised the mass of silvery hair piled on her head and secured with a scarlet and blue scarf. Even though she was shorter than practically everyone else, she stood out.
She wore a close-fitting, knee-length dress made of some sort of stretchy material. It was pink, with one enormous flower on it. He squinted, trying to make out what the scarlet flower was. A poppy? There was something odd about the centre. He looked closer. Is that Spiderman crouched in the middle of the petals?
She coughed, and he realised he’d been staring at her midriff for too long to be polite.
“Where do you get your clothes?”
She raised her eyes to the murky blue sky in disbelief. “What—”
“Satisfy my curiosity? Please?” His temper had improved.
“I make them.” She sidestepped to get past him to the building, but he stepped in front of her.
“I’m going out to get some lunch.” He’d forgotten that he’d decided that was her job. “I’ll be back in half an hour. Do you have enough work?”
She gave him an incredulous look. “I’ve enough work for a month.” She still sounded angry with him.
He let her pass, watching her body sway in the clingy jersey as she ran up the stairs.