Blaze (79 page)

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Authors: Di Morrissey

BOOK: Blaze
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The evening ran smoothly. Nina made a short, elegant speech praising Ali and attributing the landmark arrival and success of
Blaze Australia
to Ali's flair and acumen. She then called upon the head of the biggest consortium of companies that advertised heavily in
Blaze
to propose the farewell toast.

The corporate heavyweight made a short, silky speech, and everyone raised their champagne glasses – ‘To Ali' – and the formalities were concluded. The noisy partying continued.

John O'Donnell sought Ali out and kissed her cheek. ‘I hope this is what you want, Ali dear.'

‘Not exactly. But I'm afraid you can't offer me what I want either,' she said with sudden candour, and added, with warmth in her voice for the first time that evening, ‘You really helped me. I'm grateful for that. Thanks.'

‘You also helped me through a difficult time. I appreciate your discretion and I think I understand what drives you. Good luck to you, Ali,' he answered gallantly.

Before anyone noticed, Ali had left. Nina suddenly looked around and sent Tracey to check with Tom the limo driver, who reported he'd taken Ali back to the
Blaze
offices an hour or so earlier.

Nina glanced at her watch. ‘It's nearly eleven. There isn't really anything for her to do back at the office . . .' her voice trailed off and she looked worried. She didn't want to say anything, especially in front of Miche. For suddenly, Nina couldn't help thinking about Lorraine. She glanced around the room, wondering who to confide in.

Her eyes fell on Reg Craven and she asked the waiter to bring him to her table.

Reg was feeling very pleased with himself and had strictly limited his drinking on this evening so that he could gain maximum enjoyment out of observing every nuance of the farewell to the woman he hated most – Ali. Also, he knew he needed to re-establish his standing with Nina. He didn't care who Nina appointed editor next, no one could challenge or upset him the way Ali had.

Jacques, with Tony permanently attached to his side, was leaving the country and taking his shady dealings with them. So Reg was ready to reoccupy his territory and standing in the company. He'd spent a part of the evening schmoozing with Miche and her father. It occurred to him Birchmont Wines should be advertising in
Blaze
, no special deals because of Miche being Nina's goddaughter, but perhaps there could be a crossover promotion deal. Maybe
Blaze
could hold a classical music evening or something posh at the Birchmont Estate, which he'd heard was pretty swish. Yes, that could be a beneficial connection. When the waiter approached, he was elated that Nina had asked him to join her.

As he approached the table, Reg was struck by Nina's serious face, and for a moment his heart sank. No, Nina would never say anything critical in public. He smoothed his moustache. ‘A delightful party, Nina. Very impressive round-up of guests. But then,
Blaze
on top of an invitation helps, doesn't it?' he said, making the point the guests had come because of
Blaze
and not Ali.

Nina picked up her tiny Hermès handbag. ‘Reg, I want to go back to the office, I wonder if you'd accompany me?'

Reg did a double take. ‘Now? I mean, of course, Nina. Is there a problem?' Reg couldn't imagine what could have gone wrong on a Friday evening with still plenty of lead time before the next edition's print schedule.

Nina spoke quietly. ‘It's Ali. She's such a dark horse, you never really know what she's thinking. I'm a bit concerned because she slipped out of here without letting anyone know. Tom says he took her back to the office.'

Nina began to walk slowly through the dwindling crowd, nodding and smiling to people as she went. ‘I don't want to upset Miche, I'll just tell her I'm going home – I needn't mention via the office. The car's out the front, Reg.'

Reg patted his pockets making sure he had everything – phone, glasses . . . He nodded and headed for the door.

The limousine stopped outside the building, which had a few lights scattered throughout various floors. They caught the lift to the
Blaze
editorial offices and stepped out into the softly lit reception area. Without saying anything, Nina turned towards Ali's office, her heart tightening as she saw the light under the door.

She called out, ‘Ali! Are you there? It's Nina.'

There was a muffled noise. Nina opened the door that led into Belinda's office and saw the light and heard movement in Ali's office. The door was locked. She rattled the handle and raised her voice. ‘Ali? It's Nina.'

‘Why are you here, Nina?'

‘I was worried about you when you slipped away and came here. Can we talk for a minute?'

There was a pause, then, ‘Are you alone?'

Nina hesitated.

‘For God's sake, I'm not going to jump,' snapped Ali.

Nina threw a relieved glance at Reg. ‘Why the locked door, Ali? What are you doing? I just called in on my way home with Reg.' Nina tried to sound conversational.

‘Reg! Is that bastard out there?'

Reg grimaced and gave a shrug indicating, ‘See what I've had to put up with?'

‘Ali, this seems silly, please come out,' said Nina, sounding a little exasperated now.

‘Nina, send that prick home. And I don't need to see you. I'm tidying up my office. Clearing out, if you must know. I'm on a plane to New York tomorrow.'

Nina looked at Reg.

‘I'll be off then. See you round, Ali. Good luck with the new job,' said Reg trying to keep the smirk out of his voice.

There was no answer but a thump that sounded like something going into the rubbish bin. ‘I'll take a cab home, Nina. Thanks for a nice evening.' Reg strode away. He went to his office to call a cab. He was tired now. He was sick of working with women – bloody neurotic hysterics most of the time. Why couldn't Nina just go home and leave Ali to whatever she was doing? Ali was smart enough to know when not to hang around. Nina was such a mother hen.

He pushed open his office door and gagged.

His office was a shambles, everything was upturned, everything on his desk had been swept to the floor, including his computer. Files hung open, books and papers were thrown around, then his heart raced as he saw a huge overflowing pile of shredded paper. A quick glance at his files and drawers and he knew that Ali had run all the paper in his office through the shredder. It lay like spaghetti confetti all over the carpet. ‘Bitch!' he screamed, falling on his knees, picking up a strand of paper. On it he could make out only a few letters, but he knew it was bound to be something important.

He started dragging the snowflakes of paper into a pile, cursing Ali, knowing it was a payback for his dumping on her sandpit.

His mobile phone rang and he scrambled to his feet, pulling it from his pocket. It was his wife. ‘Reg, you have to come home at once . . .'

‘I'm on my way, I was delayed. Nina asked me to come back to the office. I'm still here. Christ, what a mess . . .'

‘Reg, don't give me that,' her voice was weary, strained. She'd heard similar excuses over these past months when he'd come home smelling of Scotch and cloying perfume. ‘Tina isn't well. I'm worried, it's that appendix playing up again.'

‘I'm on my way. I'll call a cab. Jesus, Lori, you can't believe what that bitch, Ali, has done to . . .'

‘I don't give a damn! I'm fed up with you ranting about that woman. She's leaving
Blaze
. You're not. Your kid is sick. Come home, for God's sake. We need you,' shrieked his wife.

Despite the hysteria and anger in her voice, it was music to Reg's ears. ‘I'm coming, honey. I'll be there soon. Don't worry. Tell Tina Dad's on his way. If she has to go to the hospital, I'll take her. I love you, Lori. Look after our girl. I'm on my way.' Reg poured out the breathless words as his anger at Ali slipped away and he surrendered to the warm feeling of concern for his family. He hoped it wasn't too late to reunite with them. He'd been an arsehole. He'd make up for it. He punched in the cab number, gave them the address and, without looking back, left his office and caught the elevator downstairs.

Nina's limousine still waited at the kerb. Reg stood in the shadows till the regular taxi slowed and, seeing him waiting, pulled up. Reg sat in the front and gave his address. He didn't give Ali another thought.

Nina came outside alone a few minutes later. Tom opened the door for her and wearily she slid into the back seat, leaning her head on the soft leather.

‘Long day and evening, eh, Ms Jansous?'

‘Too long, Tom. Has Mr Craven left the building?'

‘Yes. Caught a taxi a few minutes ago. You working back late?'

‘Not really. Just a last goodbye to Ali. She's packing up. Leaving tomorrow instead of next week. She'll call you in the morning.'

Tom didn't answer. Driving Ali Gruber to the airport tomorrow would be no different from when he drove her to her first day of work at
Blaze
in Sydney. After six months of driving her almost every day, he knew her no better.

Nina slipped between the white damask sheets, too drained to pick up the phone and talk to Lucien. This evening had been a strain and the final confrontation with Ali had put a cap on it. Ali had not packed up her office, but had stripped it by flinging everything in a giant rubbish bin she'd wheeled in. She'd said she'd been tidying up loose ends, ready to start afresh. Nina chided her gently for disappearing from the party and causing her concern, but Ali was adamant no one would have cared even if they'd noticed.

‘I'm sick of being in your shadow, Nina. I think it's time I made a move.'

Nina had tried to reason with Ali. ‘This is not the moment to make such decisions, Ali. Give your new position six months and you'll be able to think more clearly about where in the world of the
Blaze
network you want to go. An editorship could come up.'

‘I'm not prepared to wait thanks, Nina. I'm resigning from
Blaze
. The letter is on your desk, with a copy to Baron Triton.'

‘I see. Then there's no point us discussing it at this time of night. I'll deal with it and be in touch through the appropriate channels. This seems an emotional decision, so I will allow every opportunity for you to change your mind.' Nina was not about to argue with Ali who nonetheless seemed sober, calm and determined.

‘I'm not changing my mind, Nina. I'll send you my contact details when I have them.'

Nina fretted a while longer, becoming cross at herself for losing sleep over someone as selfish and ambitious as Ali. But she couldn't help feeling disappointed. She remembered the scared yet tough and eager teenager who had pestered her for work, any kind of work, at
Blaze
in New York. How she had watched Ali slash and burn her way to the top. Ali had never allowed anyone to grow close to her. Now Nina wondered if there'd been a point when the girl was crying out for love and attention, but it was so deeply buried beneath the aggression, no one had noticed. She couldn't help thinking of the parallels with Lorraine. Ali was still young, she would continue to fight for what she wanted. But, wondered Nina, how long would it be before Ali would be pushed aside by a new-generation Young Turk, and would she end up like Lorraine, bitter and lonely?

Ali dialled New York, the Baron's direct line memorised long ago. ‘Oscar dear, it's me.'

‘It must be late. How was the party?'

‘As one would expect. I told Nina I was resigning from
Blaze
.'

‘How did she take it?'

‘She is giving me every opportunity to change my mind.'

Baron Oscar Von Triton gave a low chuckle. ‘Always so thoughtful. Dear Nina. And did you tell her your future plans?'

‘She didn't ask. And I'm not sure myself,' added Ali lightly, but with an edge to her voice.

‘
Chérie
, I told you – no promises. Career-wise you will have many choices. Let us spend a little time on the yacht and in Europe first.' Anticipating Ali's interjection, he said, ‘I know, I know, you still want to carve out a career, go where no bright young woman has gone before, or something like that?'

‘I want you to be proud of my achievements, Oscar. And I want to do it on my merits.'

‘But being with me may help a little, perhaps?'

Ali laughed with him, but her eyes were icy dots. He was indulging her, sure she would find the lavish lifestyle more enjoyable than writing or perhaps, publishing. Ali had big plans, but she knew she had to go slowly and carefully with the Baron. There was no promise of a ring or formal commitment either, but give her time. Once she was established and had eclipsed even Nina Jansous, anything could happen.

‘My driver will meet you at JFK. Sleep well, my dear Ali.'

‘I certainly will.'

Ali stepped into the rear of the limousine without a word. Tom handed her a manila envelope from Belinda as he went to put her luggage in the boot.

Ali glanced inside at several letters and papers from the accounts department. She put them in her handbag and settled back to watch the city slide past the tinted windows. It meant no more to her than the day she'd first arrived.

It wasn't till they were well over the Pacific and she had eaten the specially ordered and cooked gourmet meal that Ali went through the mail Belinda had left for her. A few personal notes from corporate clients wishing her well, tax papers, and one sealed letter addressed in handwriting she didn't recognise. Inside was a folded press clipping that turned out to be the recent weekend newspaper article about her and a handwritten letter. The steward arrived with coffee just as she was unfolding the letter and she didn't notice a smaller piece of paper drop to the floor.

Ali took a sip of coffee then started reading the letter before she realised who it was from. But having begun, she couldn't tear her eyes away. In the dim privacy of the first-class cabin she felt stripped naked without even the protection of her dark glasses.

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