Taming Graeme (Taming the Billionaire) (36 page)

 
“Is she alright?” asked John concernedly. “She must be coming down with the flu, or she’s been working too hard.”

 
Graeme smiled and removed her plate. “Mrs. Green, could we have some weak black tea and dry toast for Olivia, please? And a banana. She likes bananas these days. The smell of the food has upset her...”

 
Mrs. Green was at the table before Olivia returned. “Shall I get her something else, sir?”

 
“I’m sure she’ll feel much better once she’s been sick,” smiled Graeme.

 
Mrs. Green looked at his smirk and then smiled at him. “Oh...” was all she said, with a meaningful look toward John Taylor.

 
Olivia walked back into the breakfast room, and Graeme jumped up to pull out her chair. He wordlessly handed her the cup of weak, black tea, and a piece of dry toast. He sat smirking at her.

 
“I told you so,” he said.

 
“You did,” she mumbled.

 
“Graeme,” chided John. “The girl is obviously ill. And she had nothing to drink last evening, so I don’t see that you shouldn’t be more sympathetic.”

 
“I’m not ill, John, really. Just an, just an upset stomach, that’s all.”

 
“There’s a banana for you as well. I thought you might like the banana.”

 
Olivia smiled. “Yes, thank you. In a few minutes I’m sure I’ll like the banana.”

 
Graeme peeled the banana and carefully sliced it for her.

 
They finished their breakfasts, and James took them to the Bank. Olivia had expected Graeme to leave them in Currency Trading and disappear to the Top Floor, where the Executive Offices were situated. But he came into the trading room with them, and pulled a chair up beside her, and sat, with his arm draped loosely across the back of her chair, absently stroking her shoulder every now and then. John pulled up a chair the other side, and they spent the next couple of hours going over her assessment of the mess and her solutions.

“As usual, Olivia, you’ve cut right to the heart of the problem and solved it,” smiled John. “I would imagine you’ll be training your replacement in London as soon as you’ve passed the trading course, so we can put you onto the trading desk full time, won’t you?”

  “She will, John. She can have a couple of month’s fun on the Currency Trading Desk if she wants to, because I think she’ll enjoy it, but she’s going to be taking a leave of absence in about four months, aren’t you, pet? We have another project we are working on outside the Bank, that will require her attention for about six or seven months, maybe a year and then I’ll let her decide if she wants to be one of your traders or not...so you should start looking for another trader in any case.

TWENTY TWO

 
Graeme took the entire department to lunc
h
. Closed down the desk, John made one call that transferred the trading over to London, and everyone went to lunch.

 
Simple.

 
Done.

 
Tim got a worried look on his face. If it was that simple, maybe the Bank would decide to close his trading desk and just run everything from London. That would mean the end of his gravy train. It didn’t occur to him that they were simply getting everyone out of the office in the middle of the trading day so they could examine the computers, and record what had really been occurring during the morning, as opposed to what had been reported to Olivia and Danny by the traders. Checking to see how much Bank business was being done, and how much non-Bank business, using the Bank’s funds of course.

 
Gideon, posing as Graeme’s affable cousin, had dropped in to say hello just as they were leaving, and Graeme had invited him along. Gideon had spent years in Northern Ireland as part of the British Army’s Security Detail, and his Irish accent was impeccable.

 
They went to the same restaurant Olivia and Tim had been to two days before. They were assigned to the same section of the dining room Olivia and Tim had been in. They had the same waiter as they had before, and he remembered the very generous tip she’d left. Of course he remembered her name, and her husband.

 
“Mr. and Mrs. Browning,” he bowed, “So lovely to see you again.”

 
John and Gideon exchanged glances and grinned. Gideon had also been told of the mistaken identity that for some reason Graeme didn’t want to correct. But why was this waiter recognizing them as a married couple?

 
Graeme smiled. “Ah, you remember my wife. She had lunch here earlier this week, didn’t she?”

 
“Yes, Mr. Browning. Who would forget your beautiful wife?” The waiter was very deferential.

 
They sat, they ordered. Danny and the traders all stared. No wonder when Olivia got on the phone to Head Office she got instant results! Tim had kept his mouth shut, so they’d all just had a big shock.
Oh boy, they better stop the smutty limericks they’d been telling her...

 
Gavin’s eyes narrowed. He’d been right when he’d told Roger that Olivia was very clever...he hoped he hadn’t underestimated her.

  J
ohn, Gideon and Graeme seemed to drag out lunch, making it a social event.

 
“You guys have been working so hard for Olivia, and I know personally what a little slave driver she can be,” laughed Graeme. “So do a few of our employees who failed to live up to Olivia’s exacting standards!”

 
“I’ll say,” joined in John. “You had Gordon Reece nearly in tears trying to get those forms right last week, Olivia. He’s been quaking in his boots every day since until you let us know you’ve checked the reports we’ve scanned over and approved them. He fears your wrath if he didn‘t learn his lessons right…”

 
“Surely I’m not that difficult anymore?” said Olivia. “I know I used to be, before Graeme took me in hand, but...”

 
“Don’t you mean before you took me in your hand, pet?” smiled Graeme suggestively. “I swear, gentlemen, that ‘Livi is the tougher of the two of us.”

 
“Well, she’s been great to me,” said Danny, not sure whether or not Graeme was joking. “I’ve never had a supervisor who explained things so clearly or one who was as patient.”

 
“That remark and making sure my wife takes it easier for the rest of her stay here in Belfast will get you another raise, Danny,” said Graeme. “She’s only with you until Thursday noon. We have an engagement Thursday evening. One of our close friends has just completed a very exacting course, and we’re going to celebrate.”

 
“Eh, John,” said Tim, “it seemed very easy to transfer the trading to your London office. I hope you aren’t planning to close us down?”

 
“Absolutely not. We want to keep the two Banks’ activities quite separate. All London is doing right now is watching your open positions in case there’s any unexpected shift in the markets. You’ll ultimately report to me, because I’m Head of the Browning Group’s entire Trading operations, England, Paris, Toronto, Sydney, Los Angeles, Hong Kong and Geneva, as well as this one now in Ireland but the head trader at each of our subsidiaries has considerable autonomy, Tim. We’d pay far too many taxes if we lumped it all into one pot!”

 
Tim breathed a sigh of relief. His gravy train was still on the tracks and heading out of the tunnel he’d imagined it had just entered. “We’ll work hard for you, John. You’ll be proud of the Belfast operation,” he said to the older man.

 
“I’m sure you will,” remarked Gideon dryly. He glanced at his watch. “Is it two already?  I have that appointment, Graeme. Better rush off. What time will you be back to the Bank, by three or so?”

 
“I’m just going to order brandies all round,” said Graeme, “So, yes, around three or a little later?”

 
The brandies came. John noticed that Olivia drank sparkling water. She hadn’t had any wine with her meal, just as she hadn’t last evening. But she’d eaten her lunch and shown no sign of nausea. He hoped she was feeling better.

 
Graeme felt his mobile vibrate in his pocket. He pulled it out and read the text Gideon had just sent him. 

            
 
Need at least another three quarters of an hour.

He raised his hand and the waiter scurried over.

Another round of brandies was ordered. John and Graeme lingered. It was quarter past three before Graeme said they would settle the check.

  “Baby, I think I left my wallet on the dressing table in our bedroom...do you mind putting it on your card?”

 
Olivia smiled. He’d been a little distracted this morning alright... “Certainly, Graeme.”

 
She pulled out the black American Express card and laid it on the table. John Taylor, sitting beside her, saw the name on the card,
Olivia Browning.
Graeme saw him look, and widen his eyes.

 
John looked at Olivia. So they were secretly married! Perhaps she was pregnant. He remembered how sick Margaret used to get in the mornings.

 
“I may understand now why you were sick at breakfast,” he said softly.    “Congratulations, my dear.”

 
Olivia blushed. “Eh, thank you, John.”

 
“Yes, thank you, John. Nobody else knows, and we’d appreciate you keeping the news to yourself until we’re ready to announce it. We haven’t even told Uncle David yet.” Graeme was smirking.

 
Olivia realized he looked very proud of himself. Having this baby was a bigger deal to Graeme than she’d realized. A much bigger deal. It might be very hard for her to get joint custody of this baby, very hard indeed. Perhaps it would be impossible.

 
“Then you certainly haven’t told Amanda, have you?” laughed John.

 
Even Olivia had to laugh at that. “No, John,” she giggled. “We haven’t told Amanda.”

 
“Wait until she finds out,” smiled John. “She’s going to be both amazed and furious.”

 
“I know,” grinned Graeme, “but tell somebody who cares, will you?”

 
Olivia paid the bill, which was close to nine hundred pounds. The brandy Graeme had ordered was twelve pounds a glass, the bottles of wine a hundred each, and they’d gone through three.              She added a twenty percent tip, their waiter had worked so hard for them. The delighted server nearly kissed her feet.

 
Thanks to the second round of brandy, the forensic accountant and his helpers were out of Currency Trading by the time everyone arrived back.

 
“It’s half past three,” said Graeme. “Shall we call it a day and start fresh in the morning?”

 
“Not until I’ve finished,” said Olivia.

 
“What do you have to do, baby?” Olivia could see Graeme appeared to feel the effects of his liquid lunch. She also knew it was an act, that he’d had only half a glass of wine, and half a snifter of brandy.

 
“Finish the reports for this morning. Danny only needs about twenty minutes and I need ten to check them over. Then at four, Pat will email me Gordon’s efforts and I need to go through his checklists and approve what he’s done.  I’ll be good to go at five.”

 
Graeme looked around the room and grinned at the other men. “What did I tell you, gentlemen? She’s a little slave driver. And won’t stop until she’s got the results she wants, will you baby?”

 
Olivia smiled. Graeme was playful, having fun with the charade. She felt bold, in control for the first time since she’d laid eyes on him back on January 2
nd
.

 
“Well, darling, if you want to let everybody have an early afternoon but Danny, John and you that would be fine.”

 
“You’re the boss this afternoon, pet,” he told her and bent low, brushing his lips across hers, and whispered in her ear, “but pet, wait until we get home. Those silver balls are my revenge...you’ll remember who is in control then, won’t you?”

 
Gideon had wandered back in at five to four. Danny had been sent home at twenty past four. The minute he was out the door, the charade stopped and everyone became all business. Harold Whelan, the forensic accountant joined them.

 
“OK, Harold, how many duplicate trades this morning?”

Harold handed them a summary sheet showing values.
“Eighteen that they seemed to divert profit from. Total trading, six Euros, five Yen, two U.S. Dollars, five Canadian Dollars – they did well on the Canadian Dollar short this morning, didn’t they? They seemed to skim a consistent twenty percent of the profit this morning, didn’t they? Of course, they didn’t participate in the South African Rand loss that Tim made about ten o’clock this morning. We ate that. We also ate the Mexican Peso loss Roland made at eleven.”