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I huffed at his lack of responsibility. “So you left them out to make him think he could excuse what he did? Like, I hit Gemma, so go ahead thump your wife, too!”
“He couldn’t hide his grin when he came back into the kitchen. No, babe. Under that smile, he felt bad. He has finally grasped the concept of consent. He lashed out at Gillian in a fit of anger—uncontrolled rage. We don’t play that way. You and I are different. Hopefully, he will stop seeing me as a violent bully. It’s just history between Anthony and me, babe. Don’t worry.”
I didn’t say anything more because it made sense. Jason had tried to show Anthony how much he had changed from the childhood brother.
Resolving Anthony’s problems kicked into action. Jason arranged to meet Anthony and go through the paperwork, emails, and whatever records he held on his suppliers.
A few days later, with Jason driving us back home after an evening spent at Anthony’s house, I asked him how the spell with his brother had gone, and Jason told me they had made progress with the contract. He’d been careful not to point out his brother’s mistakes in handling his suppliers. “Humpty dumpty has come crashing down off the wall. There wasn’t any point in asking who pushed him.”
“So how are the king’s men doing?” I asked.
“Oh, I found the contracts weren’t watertight, no penalties for changing conditions, etcetera, things a decent procurement team would pick holes in. I will send my lawyers into the fray, and, as you know, my lawyers are renowned for winning. I will choose the most intimidating ones for the fun of it.”
“Jason! You can be a bully still.” I shook my head in mock disgust.
“Not a bully, a billionaire, darling. I make money by being nice to people.”
“You said nice!” I goaded him with the forbidden word.
“On this occasion, I meant the derogatory form of nice. Surface pleasantries hiding my well-known ruthless streak.”
Why wonder he hated me using the word if he saw it as deceitful.
“So, nothing you say is what you’re really thinking? Which makes you dishonest in my opinion. When you make love to me, you say nice things to me.”
“Don’t go in a huff; that’s the other form of nice. The one you so eloquently avoid using so not to offend me. With you, babe, nice is always your nice, not mine.”
Chapter 9. Working Life
Finding Jason not in his study but stretched out on the bed with his eyes shut, I lay next to him. I rested my hand on his chest, feeling the reassuring rise and fall. The man never seemed to get sick, yet I sometimes fretted he might be harbouring ill health that would manifest itself one day out of the blue.
“Are you okay?”
“Yes.” His eyelids didn’t flicker. “Difficult day.”
“Can I do anything for you?” I risked letting my hand drift down to his waistband.
“No.”
My hand ceased moving. “Sure?”
“Shut up,” he snapped.
We lay for a while, quiet and still. The birds sang, and the leaves rustled against the window. A lovely Wednesday evening, which we weren’t enjoying.
Throughout all of Jason’s efforts to sort out his brother’s struggling business, he’d his own to manage. His work ethic remained strong even with arrival of fatherhood. What had changed were his ambitions. The expansion of his empire was no longer his primary goal. Consolidation and even contraction occupied his endeavours.
Jason’s corporate headquarters managed a conglomerate of subsidiaries, which he’d amassed over fifteen years, focused in finance and legal services. Located predominantly in Europe and North America, his companies were aligned under divisions providing the corporate ethos, common policies, and shared support functions.
Each new acquisition would have included some unique aspect as well as duplication. There had to be a fit with his current portfolio. Elements that didn’t match, he divested and sold on, stripping out unwanted wastage by merging subsidiaries with similar functions, and the activity brought out his uncompromising nature. Shutting locations resulted in redundancies—why have a multitude of peripheral offices providing the same support services when his own divisional ones sufficed?
With his empire fixed in size and location, he’d decided against expanding, and consolidation became his goal. Weeding out excessive expenditure, non-profitable sections, and putting a rocket up the poor performers became his focus. Wherever he went, he created a nervous workforce who checked their bottom lines and head count to see if they were vulnerable for the chop.
If st
ress affected Jason, he never stated it. He’d chosen the nature of his career and accepted the bad times with the good. He didn’t care if is workforce failed to adore him; being respected and admired by his peers fed his ego.
The fact he’d camped on the bed and not in his study, the minimal dialogue and shadows under his eyes, told me my husband wasn’t enjoying his work as much as he used to. It troubled me that he concentrated on negative activities—divesting and selling assets wasn’t healthy for a man who liked to build and expand.
