Guilty Pleasures. Tasmina Perry
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‘Oh God, morning Emma,’ said Emma’s secretary breathlessly, rushing into her office and presenting her boss with a large bunch of red and yellow tulips. ‘Sorry, I wanted to get in before you this morning so I could get these in a vase.’
‘What’s all this for?’ she smiled, gathering the flowers up.
‘Your birthday, silly. You make me remember when half of corporate Boston is born so I think I can remember my own boss’s.’
Emma smiled and kissed her on the cheek. Gretchen was forgetful, disorganized and her time-keeping was atrocious, but she had a kind heart, a rare thing at any level in business, thought Emma as she watched the girl scuttle off to find a vase.
‘Who’s 21 again?’
Emma looked up to see her friend Cameron Moore, a manager in the retail division, pop her head around the door. Her perfectly blow-dried mane of dark hair hung to one side, like a shampoo advert.
‘Welcome back, sweetie,’ she said. ‘Here, a birthday gift.’
Cameron handed Emma a small orange box tied with a chocolate ribbon. She smiled. Emma usually bought clothes because they were smart, not because they were designer names, but she still recognized the famous bright orange of Hermès. She opened the box and a gorgeous silk scarf fluttered to the table.
‘Oh, Cam, how wonderful! Thank you,’ she said, getting up to give her friend a kiss on the cheek. ‘I can’t believe you remembered.’
‘Are you kidding?’ said Cameron, rolling her eyes, ‘That secretary of yours has been bombarding everyone with emails for about a month! But enough of that, how was England?’
Emma sighed, looking down at the scarf, examining the stitching.
‘Eventful. I’ve been given a company.’
Cameron’s face lit up and Emma immediately regretted saying it. The news would be around the building in minutes and eyebrows would be raised. Total commitment had to be shown to Price Donahue at all times.
Cameron closed the door and hushed her voice.
‘The family company? Milford?’
Emma nodded. As Cameron’s area of expertise was luxury retailing she was interested to hear her friend’s thoughts on the company even though she personally had little interest in her new shareholding.
‘Your uncle gave it to you?’ said Cameron incredulously. ‘The whole thing?’
‘A controlling interest, yes. It was a bit awkward really,’ she shrugged. ‘Still, it was nice to see my family, even if the circumstances could have been better.’
‘Family?’ hissed Cameron. ‘Forget about the family! Jeez, Emma, you’ve got your own company! This is enormous!’
Cameron sat down on Emma’s desk, as if stunned by the news.
Emma laughed at her friend’s reaction, but it did make her think.
‘So what do you think I should do?’
‘Do? You should go straight in to see Davies right now and resign!’
‘Resign? I have no intention of giving up work here, it’s …’
Cameron interrupted, nodding her head.
‘Yes, yes, I know, it’s your life. But, Em, haven’t you ever dreamed of getting off this merry-go-round? Haven’t you ever wished you could stop telling fat old duffers how to run their companies and do it yourself?’
‘Cam, I’ve even taken up golf to get this partnership,’ she laughed.
‘Golf? Emma! This is your big chance. What, you want to spend the rest of your life doing all the hard work for Daniel Davies and his little clique, hoping they’ll throw you a bone someday?’
Cameron picked up Emma’s scarf and waved it at her.
‘OK, so Milford might not be Hermès right now. But honey, it could be.’
Emma looked her friend doubtfully.
‘I don’t think so.’
Cameron smiled.
‘With you in charge, sweetie, anything’s possible.’
Emma was sitting back at her desk at Price Donahue, trying to concentrate on a spreadsheet relating to a possible merger between two haulage companies, but for once, the jumble of figures was failing to hold her attention.
Looking at the orange Hermès box still on her desk she reached into her handbag and pulled out a letter that had been given to her by Anthony Collins at Milford and which she had read once on the flight home.
Dear Emma,
If you’re reading this letter it means I have gone, as J.M. Barrie would say, on an awfully big adventure. Here’s hoping I had an interesting demise and that we managed to hook up for one last game of chess. We don’t see each other as much as I’d like these days but I’m so proud of your accomplishments in America. You certainly grabbed the land of opportunity by both hands. By now, you’ll also know about my plans for Milford. They may come as a surprise to some in the family but in my heart I know that you will know what to do with the company. We all know I am more bon viveur than businessman, but I believe this is one decision I have got right.
I hope you don’t see the opportunity as a burden. There is great satisfaction to be had in working for yourself and your family rather than for other people.
I believe you can do great things if only you believe in yourself.
With much love, Saul
She stared thoughtfully out of the window before a ping made her look up: an incoming email.
‘How was it? Mark.’
She folded the letter, put it back in her handbag and began typing.
‘Interesting, to say the least. How about dinner to discuss?’
There was an instant reply. ‘Dinner it is for the birthday girl. Eight?’
She looked at her watch and groaned. She’d been so wrapped in her own dramas that she’d forgotten to send out an important letter. It wouldn’t do to slip up on anything right now; the partnerships were due to be announced tomorrow. She called out to her secretary.
‘Gretchen? Have you done that letter of engagement for the Frost Group yet? It was supposed to go this morning.’
Gretchen put her head around the door, a puzzled expression on her face.
‘It’s already gone,’ she said. ‘Mark came to speak to me about that a couple of days ago. Said the letter was going out in his name.’
‘Really? When was this?’
‘Tuesday. Sorry, Emma, but he’s a partner. I didn’t query it.’
‘No, no, it’s fine,’ said Emma quickly. ‘I’d just forgotten he was going to do it, that’s all.’
When Gretchen had gone, she swivelled round to look out of the window. For some unaccountable reason, there was a sick feeling in her stomach. Was she being paranoid? Why had Mark sent the Frost letter out in his own name? OK. Maybe it was protocol because he was a partner but she had hustled hard for that piece of business.
She picked up the phone and dialled Mark’s extension but it went straight to message.
‘Emma. I thought you’d like to know,’ said Gretchen popping her head around the door and whispering. ‘It looks like partnerships are being announced today.’
‘Today!’ said Emma. ‘I thought it was going to be tomorrow, Friday.’
Gretchen