The Little Shop of Afternoon Delights: 6 Book Romance Collection. Zara Stoneley
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If it was anyone else I’d wonder if it was nerves, but he’s so self-assured I scrub the idea. Maybe he’s not feeling well.
‘Ready?’ He buttons his jacket and licks his lips. I nod, puzzled. Is he okay? Without another word, he walks over to centre stage.
‘Good morning everyone,’ he says, adjusting the microphone slightly. ‘Are we ready to begin?’ Conversation dies down and people turn their heads to give their full attention. ‘Good,’ he replies, ‘then I’ll start. I’m Alex Demetrio, CEO of Demetrio International.’ I can see his hands where they’re resting on the podium. His fingers are clenched and white, but no trace of doubt shadows his clear, firm voice. ‘Welcome to our AGM.’
The presentation should be boring because I’ve heard it so many times, but it is fascinating because Alex warms after the first few minutes, confidently running through annual reports for the previous year and year to date, explaining the financial forecasts for the forthcoming two. He looks more comfortable and I’m pleasantly surprised when he is wryly humorous about the privileges and pitfalls of running the company. It’s honest and brave and interesting.
‘I also want to thank the senior team and all support staff for their hard work and dedication, which make all the difference to the success of the organisation. The Board of Directors and I truly appreciate the passion and energy of our employees.’ Alex gazes across the audience, taking the time to meet people’s eyes, smiling so widely his cheeks must hurt.
His voice drops slightly and several people lean forward to hear better. ‘I’ve gone through the finances, the strategies and the ambitions, how we’re going to expand, but I want to talk about something else I feel we should focus on over the next three to five years. Something important. Something worth doing. I hope you’ll agree with me and understand why.’ His face becomes serious and I’m mesmerised, like everyone else. ‘What I want to say is this. Every one of us has a responsibility to the companies we run, to each other and to other colleagues, to local economies and markets. But we also have a responsibility to the wider world. That’s why we’ll continue to fund hundreds of charities with a diverse range of good causes, as well as maintain a drive for carbon-neutral working and energy efficiency across the whole organisation. It’s also why there’s an Economic Social Responsibility programme for managers, which includes spending a month abroad in Africa helping to rebuild villages. I’d like to show you a short film of that now before I continue.’
I can’t help but be inspired by his passion, especially when he plays footage of the organisation’s best and brightest management trainees covered in sweat, caked in mud and heaving cement and bricks in the scorching sun. They interact with smiling villagers, children getting underfoot and kicking footballs to the cameraman against upbeat background music. It’s more usual to see TV celebs or pop stars, or a British prince or two undertaking this kind of work, but even without the glitterati, the short film is moving and captivating and the result at the end is a new school for the community. It’s truly heart-warming. Imagine being able to make that type of difference to people’s lives. Imagine how it must change you as a person, to be something that is so much bigger than yourself. I sigh. I might have gone on the programme if things had turned out differently. The metallic taste of rage floods my mouth. Tony Ferrier has robbed me of so much. I feel sick.
The film ends and Alex reclaims the microphone. ‘What you just saw is the reason we’re proposing to extend the programme from one month to three, open it to other employees and double the number of people we send over there.’ Alex pauses to let everyone adjust to the idea. ‘It’s also why there’s a plan to increase the yearly donations by an extra … ’ My mind boggles as he announces a number with an inordinate number of zeroes. A few men in the front row blanch. One wearing a loud purple tie looks as if he might fall off his chair. I hold back a laugh, wondering how many shares he owns.
‘The other thing I want to suggest is in the information pack you were sent.’ Alex booms. ‘There’s a saying that charity begins at home, but I think we’ve been missing it. My family are from Corfu and the company was started three generations ago by my grandfather, but we’re also British and the UK feels like home.’ His voice wavers for a split second and I wonder if anyone notices. ‘We need to launch more projects in the UK. Community projects in deprived areas, housing where there are shortages, a national apprenticeship scheme so that we can drive down the number of NEETs across the country, that is young people not in education, employment or training. We have an ageing population and no default retirement age, so we need to respect the experience of the older generation while also helping the next into work and out of poverty. We need to take action now and lead from the front and hope that other businesses follow. We’ll improve our corporate image and increase the motivation of our staff, but more importantly we will feel proud.’ He pauses. ‘We will be proud. Who,’ he demands, looking around the room, ‘is with me?’
The room is silent, then clapping begins. I feel like I’m at some political pep rally. I fully expect to see Barack Obama appear with Michelle, but there’s just Alex, who can be both so distant and in the next moment so charming, standing at the front of the stage, charged with compassion and energy. For a moment I lose my breath. He is such a complicated guy, but everything he’s just said fills me with warm positivity.
The rest of the meeting is quick, shareholders approving the previous year’s accounts and dividends per share and voting overwhelmingly in favour of Alex’s plans, ending with the composition of the Board. Everyone is re-elected and Alex seems satisfied as he wraps up, summarising the last slide.
‘Thank you all for your time,’ he says finally, smiling. ‘Now I’m going to go and lie down in a dark room with a glass of Retsina.’ A small laugh erupts from the audience. ‘You’re all welcome to stay for light refreshments next door before leaving, unlike the members of staff staying for breakout sessions and a working lunch, followed by a long afternoon of individual meetings. You know who you are!’ He waits a beat. ‘If there are no questions?’ he addresses the room. ‘Good. Enjoy the food and I wish you all a safe journey home. Thank you. Oh, and a belated Happy New Year to you and your families.’
As Alex steps from the podium, people stand, stretching and chatting and making for the door. I exit the PowerPoint and start shutting down the laptop. I’m really confused. Who is the real Alex? The formal, sharp closed-off guy, or the witty, compassionate one?
I shouldn’t care. It doesn’t matter to me who he is – as long as he believes my story when I need him to.
‘What do you want me to do next?’ I ask Alex as I zip his laptop into its bag.
‘Can you take notes during the group sessions?’ he asks absently, checking his smartphone. ‘They’re rotating coffee breaks with team meetings and group thought showers,’ he continues, swiping a finger across the screen. ‘We need some ideas for a new rewards programme for customers and employees. It’d be helpful if you could capture the ideas.’
‘Sure,’ I say easily, looking over at the small group of managers chatting in the corner. It’s gratifying to see it’s an almost even mixture of men and women. ‘See you later then?’ I sling the laptop bag over my shoulder against my handbag.
‘Hmm?’ He taps something else on the phone. ‘Yes.’
The phone seems permanently attached to either his ear or hand. Would it kill him to look at me when he’s talking to me? With a quiet harrumph, I turn to scoot over to the awaiting group.
‘Charley?’
‘Yes?’ I glance back.
‘Thank you.’ Alex gives me a grateful smile with a flash of white teeth, dark-blue eyes crinkling at the corners.
Almost staggering under the force of it, I return the smile weakly. ‘Uh-huh.’ The man is too bloody gorgeous for his own good.
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