Executive Affair (24 page)

She organised an impromptu meeting with a busy and reluctant Emma.

‘Has something happened?' asked Emma.

‘What do you mean?'

‘You were full of the joys of life this morning and now you look as if you're about to burst into tears.'

Claire cursed her for being so observant and wished, for the second time that morning, that she could confide in her. ‘I've just got a whopper of a headache, that's all.'

When lunchtime finally came around, she escaped outside, her steps brisk as she put as much distance between herself and Robert as possible. She bought a sandwich and sat in the park, questions crashing ruthlessly around in her head.

Why didn't he tell the truth in Melbourne? I asked him a direct question about DC Solutions and he could have easily told me that he was a director of the holding company. Is that why we didn't make love afterwards
…
because I asked too many uncomfortable questions?

She stayed out for as long as she could without arousing suspicions, particularly Emma's. On her return she killed some
time with Stacey on an issue that had just cropped up. She left at four for a fictitious doctor's appointment.

It took her longer than usual to get home. She wasn't sure if it was because the trains were slower or if it was because she didn't have the energy to rush like she did most evenings. Shutting the door wearily behind her, she immediately focused on the phone. She was terrified that he would ring, even more terrified that he would call around to the flat. She waited in the silence, lost in her thoughts, until Fiona came in.

‘What's going on?' Fiona sat down breathlessly, without taking off her shoes. She usually discarded them carelessly at the door, preferring to pad around the flat barefoot.

‘I found something out at work today,' Claire began, her voice uneven.

‘What?'

Claire took a steadying breath and carefully chose her words so that Fiona would have the full facts. ‘Hold on – I'll have to tell you the whole story. A few months ago we paid $600,000 to a company called DC Solutions. When I asked our sales director for further backup, he said that it was our first time dealing with the company and the contract wasn't yet drawn up. A few weeks ago we made another payment of $400,000 and Frank, the sales director, was on holiday. I remember it was the week before my birthday and when I was looking up the number for the restaurant in the
Yellow Pages
, I had a look for DC Solutions' advertisement. They didn't even have a line entry, let alone an ad.' She paused.

‘Yeah, go on,' Fiona encouraged.

‘Well, that worried me a bit so I got the paperwork for the cheque back out … and I noticed that their invoice didn't have a phone number on it. You know that company, Australian
Corporate Reporting?' Fiona nodded. ‘I asked them to do a company search, just to put my mind at ease. It came back two weeks ago and told me nothing except that DC Solutions is a fully owned subsidiary of a US company called ARS Corporation. The directors of DC Solutions were US citizens and I didn't recognise their names. I was going to drop it but something was niggling me so I had another search done on the holding company, ARS Corporation. I got that report this morning … Robert is one of the directors.' Her voice broke and she swallowed before continuing. ‘Now I don't know what to think!'

Fiona didn't speak for a few moments, her face reflecting her thoughts as she digested the information. She kicked off her shoes and curled her bare toes into the carpet.

‘Your Robert, as in Robert Pozos?'

‘Yes, same date of birth and everything,' Claire answered flatly.

‘Wow! A million bucks!'

‘Yes, a million bucks. Please, Fi, help me think this through. There must be an explanation and I just can't think of it,' Claire said, desperately looking at her for a solution.

‘Have you spoken to Robert about it?'

‘I asked him in Melbourne about DC Solutions … On reflection, he was a bit funny with me afterwards … I haven't told him about the company searches …' She rubbed her temples. Her head was throbbing both from her own endless questions and now Fiona's.

‘Claire, I know that this is not what you want to hear, but it looks pretty black and white to me. Vice-presidents are not allowed to receive payments through the back door. There are laws prohibiting that kind of thing,' Fiona stated, her logic direct and irrefutable.

‘I know, the facts are fairly damning, aren't they?' Claire was resigned, wanting to cry with disappointment but too proud to do so in front of Fiona.

‘Yes, it seems so. But why would a wealthy man do such a thing? He's hardly on the breadline,' Fiona mused.

Claire hadn't asked herself that question but she immediately knew the answer, recalling the phone call from Tom when she had stayed over at Robert's a few weeks before.

‘Because he's divorcing his wife. I overheard him on the phone to his lawyer … He wants to keep the settlement to a minimum, he's very bitter about having to give her anything … I guess he didn't want to use his own money,' she finished miserably.

It was the final piece of the jigsaw, giving a nice neat indisputable picture. She suddenly couldn't bear to talk about it with Fiona any longer. The betrayal was killing her and she couldn't tell Fiona who had cautioned her so many times not to get involved.

‘I'm going for a walk. I need some fresh air,' she said, standing up.

‘What about dinner?'

‘No offence, but I think I'd throw up if I saw food right now.'

She was anonymous as she walked along the beach. The setting sun cast an orange hue over the crashing waves. It was a windy evening and her hair blew across her face, sticking to her tears. All around her, happy people jogged along the water or lay on the sand watching the sun go down. She recognised those happy carefree people in a distant kind of way. She'd been one of them not that long ago.

Julia lay in bed, awake, lonely. There was a deathly silence and she longed for some natural noise, like traffic or even children playing. It was only nine o'clock and she had chosen to go to bed rather than watch TV with the others. She could see them now, their bleak expressions, bickering over what to watch. Considering how much the program cost, you would expect the rooms to at least have their own TV. The décor was depressing, the staff humourless. It was hard to stay positive.

Cherie had come to visit yesterday. She'd brought some magazines and chocolate. Julia appreciated her thoughtfulness but she was sick of reading. Now that she spent so much time with the dregs of society, she saw Cherie in a new light. She had always dismissed her understated good looks, her inner confidence, her happiness. She glowed against the backdrop of the drab visitors' room. Julia felt a sudden surge of envy and couldn't bring herself to talk with her. Cherie left, looking hurt, after just twenty minutes of one-way conversation.

Julia wondered what Robert was doing. Was he worried about her? She ached to see him, to touch him, to have the chance to obliterate what had happened on her second and last night in Sydney. She still had another two weeks to get through before she got out. She wasn't sure if she would make it. The pressure from the group was getting stronger. Amy was there whenever she turned around, sickeningly supportive, trying to force her to admit she was one of them.

Claire also had a sleepless night, possible explanations then painful condemnation taking turns at dominating her thoughts.

Maybe the company will think I've been professionally negligent and I'll get fired for letting those cheques get through. Robert knows I'm a cheque signatory … He must have been laughing at my stupidity. Did he have an affair with me so I wouldn't guess? Would he have gone that far to cover his tracks?

It was 2.00 am and she was wide awake. She felt emotionally disorientated, whipped from happiness to despair, all without the courtesy of a warning.

Why did he do this to me? How could I be so wrong in my judgement of him? Am I totally blind?

It was pointless lying in bed. She got up and went into the darkness of the living room. She turned on the TV, muting the volume so it wouldn't wake Fiona.

What do I do? Who will I tell? Robert would be the first person I'd approach if this was about someone other than him. Steve Ryan is in Melbourne. I guess I could talk to David. He's the HR manager. He'll know what to do. I'll call him straight away when I get in.

The morning seemed so far away when she desperately needed the answers now. She watched the screen – the expressions of the guests on the talk show were hypnotising without
the distraction of sound. When she looked at her watch again, it was 4.00 am. She had to go back to bed, get some sleep.

What will David say? Will he laugh in my face and tell me I'm being ridiculous, accusing a senior vice-president of fraud? Should I tell him about my relationship with Robert?

The questions went on and on. She finally drifted into a light sleep and the alarm went off what seemed like minutes later. The nausea was immediate, before she even opened her eyes. The claws of a severe headache gripped her forehead, making the slightest movement painful. She dragged herself out of bed, her fingers shaking as she struggled to free two aspirin from their stubborn container. She wanted to be clear-headed and lucid when she spoke to David, not nervous and tired. She focused on getting ready for work. The smell of Fiona's toast wafted through the flat and she felt her stomach lurch.

‘I'll see you later.' Claire paused at the kitchen door on her way out.

Fiona was cradling her coffee, standing over the toaster. ‘What are you going to do?'

‘I don't know … I don't know if I should talk to Robert or David.'

‘Who's David?' Fiona ignored her toast when it popped.

‘The HR manager … I thought I had decided on David last night but I'm confused now again.'

‘What can you gain from talking to Robert?' Fiona asked sharply. ‘Of course he'll deny it. You're letting your relationship with him get in the way of your professional judgement.' Then, seeing Claire's face, she softened. ‘Good luck. And let me know what happens.'

Claire got to work just after nine, giving Audrey a brisk greeting on her way in. She hurried through the Finance department
with a busy smile, telling them indirectly that she hadn't time for the usual morning pleasantries. James wasn't at his desk when she extracted the DC Solutions invoices from his files. She ran them through the photocopier along with the reports on both DC Solutions and ARS Corporation, checking over her shoulder anxiously in case Robert should suddenly appear. Returning to her office, she put the originals in a file for David and put the copies in her bag. David's office was in the executive area and she would have to pass by Robert if she went around to see him. She couldn't face the risk of running into Robert. She booked a meeting room on the other side of the building. When she rang David's number it was engaged. She checked her voicemail for new messages while she waited for him to come off the phone. There was only one new message.

Hi, honey. It's after five. Just wondering where you got to today … I missed you … I guess you were busy … See you tomorrow.

The warmth and intimacy in his voice rattled her and she slammed down the phone in panic.

This is all a terrible mistake … how can I believe Robert would do this? He does care about me.

She sat with her head in her hands for a few moments, trying to decide what to do. Then, with trembling hands, she read through the file she had prepared for David and tried her hardest to come up with an explanation. When she failed, she dialled David's number again.

‘David, it's Claire. Can I see you about something rather urgent?'

‘I'm pretty busy. Can it wait until later today?'

There's no way I can wait until later. Robert could come around here any minute.

‘I'm sorry, but it's very important.'

‘Okay … do you want to come around to my office?'

‘I've booked the meeting room in the marketing area. I'll see you there.'

They arrived at the meeting room simultaneously and he stood back so she could pass through the doorway before him.

‘This seems very dramatic, Claire. What's the matter?' he said as he shut the door.

She sat down before answering, resting her hands on the polished table.

‘I think I have evidence of fraudulent payments to a company controlled by one of our employees,' she began, her hands shaking as she opened the file and her face flushed as if she was the guilty party.

There was a tense silence and she watched his expression change as he sat upright in the soft-cushioned seat.

‘How much are we talking about?'

‘A million dollars.'

‘What!'
The veins in his neck protruded as his face reddened in shock. Then he visibly checked himself before asking more calmly, ‘And who is involved?'

‘Robert Pozos,' she said, keeping her eyes down as she braced herself for his reaction. There was another silence. She wondered if he had heard her properly. She moved her eyes from the paperwork to study his face and the movement seemed to bring him out of his trance.

‘That's a very serious accusation to make. I hope you can support it,' he said, his voice ominously low.

‘I'm not making accusations, David … I sincerely hope that this turns out to be a false alarm and the payments are all above
board.' When he didn't comment she continued, ‘Prima facie it doesn't look good and it's my job to bring it to your attention. I presume you will know how to handle it from here.'

‘What's in the file?'

‘Supporting documents for two payments to a company called DC Solutions. The first cheque was for $600,000 and the second for $400,000. And I have company reports on DC Solutions and its holding company, ARS Corporation. Robert Pozos is a director of ARS Corporation.'

She got up to stand next to his seat. She walked him through the paper trail, forcing herself not to rush.

‘I'm sorry. It's not obvious to me how this is fraudulent.' He seemed hostile.

‘We don't have a contract with DC Solutions and we're paying them twenty to twenty-five per cent instead often per cent. Robert is a director of the controlling company. That has to be a conflict of interest, if nothing else.'

‘Can I keep these documents?' he asked curtly when she finished.

‘Yes, they're yours. What happens from here?' She was anxious not to be left in the dark about the outcome.

‘I need to contact San Jose.' He looked at his watch. ‘If I call straight away, I might be able to catch them before they leave for the day.'

He stood up suddenly and she stepped out of his way as he hurriedly put the documents back in the file.

‘David … just one more thing,' she asked, her voice unsteady, her composure starting to slip. ‘I can't face seeing Robert today … is it okay if I go home now?'

He nodded. ‘I'll keep you informed.' He left without waiting for her.

She returned to her office to get her bag and forward her phone.

‘We keep missing each other!'

Her heart did a painful somersault at the sound of Robert's voice.

‘Oh … hi …' She turned slowly to face him, trying to look casual.

He had both hands in the pockets of his dark trousers. His eyes were crinkled with a smile.

‘Are you off somewhere?' he asked, noting her bag on her shoulder and her blank monitor.

‘I'm going home … I'm not feeling very well,' she lied awkwardly.

‘What's the matter? Have you caught a bug or something?' He looked worried.

‘I think so … I feel quite sick.'

‘If you could wait thirty minutes, I could drive you home,' he offered, moving one hand to cup the side of her face.

‘Don't!'

‘Sorry, I forgot where we were.' He shrugged apologetically and took his hand away. ‘I'm waiting for Tony to fax the memorandum of intent – Cathair finally sent it through this morning.'

‘Congratulations on Cathair … Look, don't worry about me. I'm fine getting a taxi,' she said quickly, making a move towards the door.

‘Please let me –'

‘Really – I'm fine – I just need a rest. See you tomorrow.'

She walked over the bridge to the city. It was a warm day, heralding the end of winter and start of spring. The breeze played with her hair and the furious noise of traffic filled her
ears. The effect of seeing Robert made her feel quite strongly that he was innocent.

I may have ruined his career by jumping to conclusions
.
He will never forgive me for this
.

She stopped halfway to admire the view: the curves of the Opera House against the perfect blue backdrop; the boats and ferries dotted on the glittery water; the sun, smeared and hazy, shining down. Up above her, brave tourists were climbing the steel of the bridge. She watched as a stronger wind flattened their baggy clothing. She waited until the group reached the top before moving on.

Claire came off the bridge onto York Street and walked towards the building where Fiona worked. She checked her watch. It was too early for lunch. She sat in the lobby reading the
Sydney Morning Herald
.

As lunchtime got closer, the lifts that opened in the lobby were fuller. The suits spilled out, brushing up against each other as they raced to the doors. Claire grabbed Fiona by the arm.

‘Hi, there … fancy lunch?'

‘Claire, where have you been? I've been trying to call you all morning.' Fiona halted, almost causing a pile-up of the suits behind her.

‘Oh … I sort of took a walking tour of Sydney … Where will we go?'

Fiona was short of time so she suggested a small café a few doors down.

‘So, what happened?' she asked, leaning across the tiny table, bursting with curiosity.

‘Not much. I told David and he said he'll keep me informed. Then I asked him if I could go home.' Her answer was brief; she was suddenly too weary to go into any more detail.

‘And how did he react to what you told him? You know, when you said you thought Robert was involved,' Fiona pressed.

‘He was very wary of me. David is usually supportive, he's a nice man, but I think he may believe that I've got this all wrong …' Claire's lunch made her feel sick and she pushed it away, half-eaten.

Fiona's mobile phone started to ring. ‘It's just James,' she said, checking the number.

‘Aren't you going to answer it?'

‘I can talk to him later,' Fiona shrugged. ‘He's just ringing to see if I've booked the flights.'

‘What flights?'

‘To Ireland. I'm going home at Christmas. He's coming too.'

‘Bringing him home to meet the family?' Claire gave her a teasing wink. ‘That sounds serious.'

Fiona smiled and shrugged again. ‘Well, it is getting quite serious with us. James knows what he wants, unlike Den.'

‘What about what you want?'

‘I want someone I can rely on, as well as have fun with.'

Fiona went back to work and Claire got the train home. The phone started to ring as she let herself into the apartment. She ignored it and changed out of her office clothes into a beach dress. She went out to the balcony with a book, shutting the patio doors to muffle the continuous ringing. She settled down on her lounger, her straw hat giving shade as she tried to read. The phone continued to ring at frequent intervals until late afternoon.

The next morning Emma was concerned and curious about Claire's unexplained departure the day before. She sat on the edge of Claire's desk, looking at her closely.

‘Where did you disappear to yesterday?'