AllFreeNovel
Share Us
‘No, Edward. I’d recognised those pallid buttocks anywhere, even when they are concealed in the linen closet of the most expensive hotel Stonington Beach has to offer its residents. I’m resigning so that I don’t have to set eyes on your bouffant, lacquered locks, your plucked and tinted eyebrows and chemically enhanced lips ever again.’
‘Come on, Rosie. Don’t make this personal. There are great prospects for you at Harlow Fenton. I thought you dreamed of being VP one day?’
‘I doubt that will happen, Edward, whilst you continue to steal the credit for every high-profile deal you can get away with. It’s only because of our “involvement” that, against my better judgement, I’ve let that particular treachery slide.’
‘Now, really, I must protest…’
‘You want details? I can give you details.’
‘No, no, no, there’s no need. Perhaps we can discuss this in a civilised and professional manner when you return to the US and your senses. Clearly your aunt’s death had affected your behaviour more than we anticipated. It’s understandable. But this is your career we are talking about here…’
‘I told you, Edward, I resign! I’d rather get a job scrubbing toilets than continue to work under your management.’
To her amazement, just before she cut the call, she heard a smattering of applause in the background and she knew it was either Lauren, or more likely Toby, who had been unable to resist the urge to celebrate her moment of revenge, or was it madness? Had she really thought this through? Now that her emotions had calmed from gallop to trot, the sensible side ofher brain resumed control. What on earth was she going to do without an income? Wasn’t Manhattan the most expensive city in the world to rent an apartment? And how could she throw away everything she had been working towards since leaving college? All those late-night scrambles to close an investment deal to make their wealthy clients more money than they could spend in one lifetime? Was that all for nothing?
A curl of self-doubt tickled at her abdomen as a crystal-clear image of her mother’s gentle face floated across her mind’s eye, swiftly chased by a rendition of her father’s mantra which he had repeated often since they had laid her mother to rest. “Pursue your dreams as hard as you can, but don’t forget to pause and smell the flowers you were named after!”
She returned her cell phone to her handbag but knew she would be retrieving it again shortly to take Lauren’s flabbergasted call. However, despite her misgivings over the advisability of what she had just done, she was amazed to discover that the crushing weight that had taken up residence in her chest since the wedding had not just shifted but melted away.
As she set the ancient kettle to boil and searched for a packet of the loose tea her Aunt Bernice favoured, she contemplated her now-former workplace. She envisaged the stony faces of Edward and the other two senior VPs at the boardroom table in that temple of insatiable greed which preached that any problem could be solved by throwing enough money at it, so why not take the risk? She knew that those who shied away from the excessive risk-taking were destined to wallow in the lower echelons of the company hierarchy and became mindless paper-shifters, indoctrinated in the culture that screamed money was king and its accumulation the only goal worth pursuing.
Young associates at Harlow Fenton existed on frequent injections of caffeine which disguised the lack of restorative sleep and the ever-tightening tentacles of the stress they all constantly fought against. They were encouraged to accept these tortuous conditions as a rite of passage; they, like their predecessors, had to pay their dues. There was no slackening of expectations even when those who had endured the gruelling journey had reached the top and were in a position to make changes. More was always better in the corporate culture of excess – more hours, more money, more clients, more deals, which often translated into more booze, more food, more emotional crutches.
Chained to their computer monitors, blinkered to the outside world in their corporate cocoons, where nothing worth knowing happened anyway, their only companions were stale, stained coffee cups and gut-wrenching fear. Every waking hour was spent nose-to-screen until they succumbed to their chosen poison or expired. Then they’d be wheeled out, without a word of thanks, and a fresh-faced business school graduate would be slotted seamlessly into the vacated booth to continue the relentless cycle, their naivety exposed when they swore they could tame the corporate tigers lurking in the financial jungle.
As she poured her tea from a teapot into one of her aunt’s dainty china cups, Rosie’s only regret was that her resignation had left Lauren alone to continue the fight against the “male, pale and stale” culture that was so prevalent on the Harlow Fenton board. In order to survive, an executive needed to focus firmly on their intended escape route for when the pressure became unsustainable, and Rosie knew Lauren’s was motherhood.
Lauren and her husband Brett had been trying for a child for well over a year now, the failure of which, in itself, piledon more pressure. The couple were engaged in a constant, low-key battle about the excessive hours Lauren spent under the cosh of Harlow Fenton. Brett had now expanded his arguments to include the submission that the constant stress and anxiety of the continual deadlines were playing a significant role in their inability to conceive and the reason they’d had to resort to expensive IVF. They had their first round of treatment scheduled for the end of the week and, with another painful jolt to her stomach, Rosie realised she wouldn’t be around to support Lauren.
What a truly useless friend she’d turned out to be.
Now that she had tossed away everything she had worked towards since she left college nearly seven years ago, all she had to figure out was what she was going to do with the rest of her life when she returned to New York after her aunt’s funeral. She knew finding a soul mate was a non-starter – she had no intention of subjecting herself to that minefield again. Every foray she’d made into the battleground of romance had blown up in her face. There were only so many hints that she was not “girlfriend material” that she could afford to ignore. Whatever her character flaws were, she harboured no masochistic tendencies.
Her cell phone buzzed into life, as she knew it would, and a smile played at her lips.
Lauren.
Chapter Nine
‘Oh my God! What did you just do?’ Lauren’s voice was surrounded by a faint echo and Rosie knew her friend was crouched in the only sanctuary available at Harlow Fenton – the ladies’ restroom.
‘I know, I know. It’s only just beginning to sink in.’
‘But why? I tried to call you after I got your text about Edward and Hannah, and I totally understand why you ran away.’ Lauren’s voice squeaked in outrage. She had never been a paid-up member of Hannah’s fan club. ‘I didn’t think even Hannah could be so vile! On her wedding day, too! Although to be honest, it’s completely within the scope of Edward’s questionable capabilities. But do you have to resign? Have you really thought this through?’
‘Yes, I do, and yes, I have. It’s obvious that Edward held me in so little esteem that he thought it was okay to betray mewith my sister!’
‘She’s livid, by the way. Hannah. All the gossip about your mysterious disappearance meant she was no longer the centre of attention. She thinks you did it on purpose to spoil her big celebration; that you are jealous she’s found her soulmate, and you haven’t and couldn’t bear to stand on the sidelines to watch her exchange vows with the man she loves.’
‘Oh for God’s sake, that’s just typical of Hannah. Has she conveniently forgotten that since Mum died she’s been mynumber one priority! I’ve done everything for her! Everything revolves around her and her happiness! Everything! And I think that her recent behaviour proves that if I’m ever lucky enough to have something she doesn’t, she will stop at nothing until she takes it from me!’
‘I’m so sorry, Rosie. How are you feeling?’
‘How should I be feeling? I go in search of the blushing bride so that I can deliver her to her handsome, successful, billionaire bridegroom, and where do I find her?In the linen cupboardin a compromising position with my boyfriend – the faithless scumbag that is Edward Phillips.’
‘I’m sorry you had to find out about him like that.’
‘What do you mean?’
