Just Business (13 page)

‘No problem.'

Then, on a mad impulse, she leaned forward to kiss him. It was just a peck, it didn't last longer than a second, but yet it was long enough to savour the faint taste of beer and the warmth of his lips. ‘I probably won't see you again so have a happy Christmas.'

He wished her the same and watched her go, disappointed with her haste to get away. She didn't go back to her table, presumably because Malcolm was still sitting there. She moved around the room, smiling and nodding at colleagues but not
stopping to talk. She was searching for someone, presumably her husband.

Yoshi had taken Niamh's empty seat next to Malcolm.

‘Enjoying the music?' he asked as a conversation opener.

‘It's all right,' Malcolm replied, looking at him suspiciously. The Japanese spy was not known to engage in wasteful small talk.

‘It's nice to see some old faces here,' Yoshi commented, not put off by Malcolm's offhandedness. ‘Scott,' he nodded towards the dance floor, ‘and Helen … and some of the others who left in November …'

‘They shouldn't be here!' Malcolm said sharply. ‘It's creating bad feeling amongst the staff.'

‘Come now,' Yoshi gave the CEO a tolerant smile, ‘they are not … what do you call it? Lepers? They've paid their social club subscription, have they not?'

Malcolm's response was to blow some cigar smoke accidentally-on-purpose in Yoshi's direction.

But the Japanese spy was not put off. ‘Now, Helen and Phil, I would think they are not happy to see each other –'

‘She'll only cause more trouble by being here. She should have stayed away,' Malcolm declared.

‘Maybe Phil is the one who should have stayed away,' Yoshi suggested, his black eyes narrowing.

Malcolm reached across the table to pull over an ashtray. ‘Phil tends to get carried away around the ladies … I've had strong words with him, though. He'll behave himself from now.'

Yoshi wasn't so sure, but he made some polite small talk until he saw Niamh leave the dance floor. He then wished the CEO a good evening and made for her direction.

Niamh felt disorientated and took a glass of champagne from the drinks waiter. Where was Chris? She should be dancing with him, not Scott. She shouldn't have danced with Scott, it was asking for trouble. All the feelings in Forbes were back with a heightened intensity. It was everything about him: his muscled body, the natural highlights in his hair, the piercing blue eyes she was almost afraid to look into. He was an outdoors man, unlike Chris who only saw the sun when he played his eighteen holes. But aside from the physical attributes, there was his passion. He obviously adored the daughter he was raising alone. He ran against the wind just for fun. Would he be as passionate in bed? She had kissed him – again. This time she couldn't pass it off as a joke, every part of her had wanted to taste his lips. She downed the champagne and got another from the waiter who appeared by her side at exactly the right moment. Where the hell was Chris? She was starting to get worried about him. She searched the room yet one more time and saw Yoshi coming her way.

‘Good evening, Niamh. Are you enjoying yourself?' His voice was as formal as his well-fitting tuxedo.

‘Yes.' Niamh gave up on finding Chris and concentrated on Yoshi. ‘It's good to see everyone having a good time. HDD has been a rather grim place to work since Black Monday.'

Yoshi nodded his agreement, then discreetly looked around to see if there was anyone within earshot. Satisfied that the coast was clear, he said, ‘Have you spoken to Malcolm about that matter?'

Niamh's eyes flashed. ‘Yes. Malcolm did catch Phil in a compromising position with Helen. He
reprimanded
him. When we're back in the office, I'll have to enlighten Malcolm that a reprimand is simply not enough!'

They sipped their drinks for a few minutes. Yoshi's was a red wine. He didn't drink much and had had the same glass in his hand for the last hour.

‘I don't think Malcolm sees it like you and I – a firing offence,' he commented after a while.

‘Well, then, it's obviously my job to educate him,' Niamh's chin rose in determination, ‘Excuse me, Yoshi, I must go and find my husband.'

‘I saw him outside talking with Lucinda,' Yoshi said helpfully.

‘Thanks. I'll look outside.'

Yoshi watched Niamh as she made her way through stray tinsel and balloons to the French doors. Over these last few weeks he had come to like and respect her. He felt they had the same core ethical values and shared the same doubts about Malcolm. He didn't think that she would find her husband outside. It was quite some time ago that he had seen him talking to Lucinda.

Yoshi was a conscientious mingler. He looked around the room to see who he would speak to next. Helen caught his eye and he went to talk to her. His initial intention was to have a brief discussion before continuing to circulate. But somehow their conversation took an unexpected path and he spent the rest of the night by her side.

There was a haze of smoke on the balcony, a separate party underway for the smokers who gathered there. Niamh couldn't see Chris and was on her way back inside when Bruce caught her arm.

‘I've been trying to get hold of you for a few days.' He was alone, blowing smoke into the night air.

‘Sorry, it's been meeting after meeting. I'm way behind with my inbox,' she apologised, knowing he had a genuine grievance.

‘Well, now that I have you, I'll take the opportunity to update you with some interesting info on Mr Greene.'

‘Denis?' Niamh asked wearily. It was the Christmas party, for God's sake. Why did Yoshi, Bruce and everyone else want to talk business? Where the hell was her husband? Chris should be saving her from this bombardment.

Some of the smoke from Bruce's cigarette blew back with the wind and his voice was hoarse as he said, ‘I think he's been stealing parts from the company.'

‘How do you know?'

‘You know that blonde accounts clerk?'

‘Donna?'

‘That's the one. Nice girl,' he said, wistful before becoming brusque. ‘She's doing an audit of our spare-parts inventory. There are a lot of parts out on loan to customers and Denis is the reference on the loan documentation.'

‘Sounds like all the paperwork is in order then?' Niamh was finding it hard to summon up any interest. She wanted to find Chris. Had he gone home for some reason?

Bruce shook his head. ‘Not quite. The parts have been on loan for over six months, and that's against company policy.'

‘What kind of parts are they?'

‘Hard-disk drives – for mainframes.'

‘What would Denis want with those? Do they have a resale value?'

‘There's a very strong second-hand market for them,' Bruce said, turning his tired craggy face to look at her.

She wanted to ask him how he was going to spend Christmas
yet she knew he would be offended by such a personal question. He didn't want her pity. The nicest thing she could do was to act interested in what he was saying.

‘Why would Denis put his name down on the loan documentation if he was misappropriating the parts?' Her brain felt sluggish after two glasses of champagne.

‘The company has never performed an audit of our spare-parts inventory before now – the risk didn't warrant the effort,' Bruce explained. ‘Denis would have had no reason to think anyone would look at that loan documentation ever again.'

‘Why are you doing an audit now?' she asked.

‘Helen Barnes – she thought it was an exposure and committed Donna as a resource to look into it. That was a few months ago. Donna is only starting to uncover some of this stuff now.' He inhaled the last of the cigarette, crushing the butt against the balcony wall. A waiter with a tray of drinks handed him a neat shot of whiskey. It was a smooth transaction that obviously had happened many times already.

Niamh finally caught sight of Chris through the French doors. He was still talking to Lucinda, as he had been when Yoshi saw him earlier. The two lawyers were deep in discussion; their serious expressions could only mean they were talking about work. Lucinda was stunning in red; she was by far the most beautiful woman in the room. Chris was just as striking, tall and confident.

Niamh watched them for a few moments before saying, ‘Look, Bruce, I can't talk about this any further right now. All I can say is that I think it would be difficult to prove, but maybe if we insinuate some issues to Paul Jacobsen, they may back down on the lawsuit … Let's talk about it after the holidays.'

Bruce followed Niamh's eyes to Chris and Lucinda. ‘Have
a happy Christmas,' he said but he was frowning hard as he watched her walk away. He saw her take her husband's hand and lead him to the dance floor.

Lucinda was left standing alone, her narrowed eyes watching the dance floor. She could tell by Niamh's face that she wasn't happy with her husband.

‘Your glass is empty – we can't have that.'

It was Malcolm, cigar and all. He called over a waiter and took a long-stemmed glass of champagne for his beautiful legal counsel.

‘Any of those left?' Lucinda nodded at the cigar.

Malcolm was delighted to oblige her by taking one from his inside pocket. The CEO said to himself, not for the first time, that there should be more women like Lucinda: beautiful, easygoing, smart, with a man's mind.

Scott watched Niamh dance with her husband. There was no distance between their bodies; they didn't look unhappy together. The foundation to his fantasies about Niamh was that she wasn't happily married. He had come to this conclusion by reading too much into a few things she had said and it seemed he had got it all wrong.

Jessica watched Scott as he watched Niamh and realised she was wasting her time with him.

Phil watched Helen as she danced with Yoshi. He had an eye for detail when it came to women and he had noticed earlier that her hair glinted with a new colour. Her dress was flattering and all in all she looked good. But she was still a trouble-making bitch. She had been flirting all night, making
damn sure she was in his line of vision. Taunting him. Mocking him.

‘Who are you staring at?' his wife asked, noticing that his eyes were fixed on the dance floor.

‘Nobody.' He dragged his eyes away, resisting the urge to march over to Helen and cut in on her dancing partner. He needed to finish the conversation he had started earlier, warn her against pursuing those ridiculous claims. But he wasn't going to get the opportunity with his wife watching his every move. He'd have to get hold of Helen next week and talk some sense into her then.

The jazz band had hiked up the tempo and the dance floor was dense with bodies. Chris's eyes were far away, his body rigid.

‘I couldn't find you for ages – where on earth did you go?' Niamh said after a few minutes when he hadn't volunteered an explanation for his absence. She had to raise her voice to be heard over the music.

‘I was circulating, chatting to your colleagues.'

‘To Lucinda?'

‘And others.'

His clipped response only served to get her hackles up even more. ‘You should have said you'd be gone for a while – you left me there, cornered by Malcolm.'

Chris lowered his head and whispered in her ear. ‘Come on, you've found me now – stop overreacting.'

If he was intending to pacify her, he had chosen the wrong words. She pulled away from him. ‘I'm sick of this,' she hissed. ‘I'm sick of always being the one in the wrong!'

He stared down at her for a moment, his dark eyes cold. ‘I've had enough of this
party
. I'm going home.'

He walked off, leaving her alone in the midst of the dancing couples. She could feel their eyes watching her and she left the dance floor, taking the opposite direction to Chris. There was no way she was going after him. Her steps were quick as she made for the nearest exit. It led to the garden, dimly lit, empty of partygoers.

‘Niamh?' she heard from behind her and recognised Scott's voice.

‘Niamh?' This time she felt his grip on her arm. ‘Are you all right?'

She nodded, fighting back tears. The hand on her arm led her further into the garden, towards a stone bench set back from the main walkway.

‘Let's sit here for a while,' was all he said.

For the second time that night, Niamh didn't give in to the urge to cry. ‘Chris and I had another argument.'

‘It looked like that.'

‘Oh no!' She covered her face with her hands. ‘How embarrassing! Everybody has seen.'

‘No, only me.' His arm hugged her shoulders, offering comfort but stirring up so much else.

‘It's all falling apart and I don't seem to be able to stop it.'

‘Sometimes you can't stop it, it's inevitable,' he said.

She stopped hiding behind her hands and found her eyes drawn to his. ‘Is that what happened with your wife?'