The Christmas Party (40 page)

If this had been a cartoon, tweety birds would have circled round Tyler’s head and he would have sunk slowly to the ground to a catchy little tune. As it is, his eyes close at the same time as he crashes backwards without pause or fanfare on to his office floor.

‘Oh my goodness.’ I drop to my knees next to him.

‘Arrrgh,’ Josh says. He nurses his knuckles to his chest. ‘That hurt.’

‘Not as much as it did Tyler.’

‘Have I killed him?’

There’s a groan from the prostrate Tyler and a flicker behind his eyelids.

‘No.’

We look at each other in shock and then burst out laughing.

‘I can’t believe you did that.’

‘Me neither.’ Josh looks stunned. ‘I haven’t punched anyone since I was in the playground at primary school. I’d forgotten what a bad idea it is.’ He rubs his knuckles again.

Another low moan escapes Tyler’s lips.

‘Come on, Josh. Let’s get out of here. I think we should be long gone before he rejoins the land of the living.’

Josh grips my arms and turns me to him. ‘I’m sorry, Louise. We definitely won’t get our jobs back now, but I couldn’t help myself. After what he said, I just really,
really
had to hit him.’

‘What’s done is done.’ I normally hate any kind of violence but, if I was a bloke, I’d have been sorely tempted to do the same thing. Instead, my protest is less physical. I take my resignation letter from Tyler’s desk and rip it into tiny shreds, then scatter it over his inert body.

‘We’re not going to tell Lance, are we?’

‘No,’ Josh says. ‘Tyler’s right. He probably won’t believe us and he’ll only come down on Tyler’s side. He’s too valuable to Fossil.’

‘Shame.’

‘It looks as if our position here is, as they say, untenable.’

‘We tried,’ I say. ‘We could do no more than that. I really appreciate you backing me up.’ My voice is clogged with emotion. Right now it feels as if Josh is my knight in shining armour. The one I’ve waited so long for. I put my hand on his chest and he covers it. ‘Thank you. You’ve paid a high price.’

He shrugs. ‘There are other jobs. It’s not the end of the world. No one died.’

We both look down at Tyler, who is still out cold.

‘Shame,’ we chuckle in unison.

‘I feel as if I need to go back to the pub and have a double brandy.’ Josh does look quite shaken.

‘We could do that,’ I say. ‘Or I could offer you a really wild option?’

Chapter Fifty-eight

Tyler was on all fours, shaking his head, still stunned, when Lance strode into his office.

‘What are you doing down there, Tyler?’ Lance observed jovially. ‘If you’re so goddamn tired after the Christmas party why don’t you get the hell out of here now? Go home to that pretty little wife of yours.’

Tyler pushed himself up on his elbows, trying desperately to remember exactly where he was. He saw what he assumed was a confetti of resignation letter sprinkled all over him and the surrounding office floor, and the memory of Josh’s fist connecting with his chin came rushing back. He tasted the blood on his lip and rubbed his jawbone, easing it back to its usual position. He would kill that bastard Wallace when he got hold of him.

‘Sorry, Lance,’ Tyler said, holding on to his desk and standing tentatively. He brushed scraps of paper from his suit. ‘A little problem with interpersonal relationships. Nothing for you to worry about. There’s always someone keen to take you down when you’re trying to climb the greasy pole.’

Lance sat down in one of his chairs. ‘I want to have a few words with you on that subject myself.’

‘Ah.’ So Josh and Louise had, indeed, spilled the beans. He’d hoped Wallace had been all mouth and no trousers. It seemed not. In truth, he’d been waiting for this. It was bound to come out. It was a miracle really that Melissa had honoured her agreement not to confess to Lance. He could only hope now that he could still keep it from Kirsten. Mind you, he wouldn’t be surprised if Louise had phoned her too.

Tyler hovered behind his desk. Should he stand? Should he sit? Was he about to get hit again? He didn’t think Lance seemed up to fisticuffs. His chairman was looking decidedly peaky after last night’s excesses. There was an unusual pallor to his face. Still, just in case, Tyler did his best to disguise the burgeoning cut on his lip, so as not to present a good target for Lance to aim at.

‘I don’t suppose you’ve got any booze in here?’ Lance asked hopefully.

Of course, every executive kept a bottle of bourbon handy in their office cupboard for Lance’s sole consumption.

‘I just happen to have a drop of your favourite, Lance. Let me pour you one.’ Get him drunk, Tyler thought, utterly, utterly drunk, and get it all out in the open.

Tyler filled a crystal tumbler and handed it to his chairman.

‘Cheers, Lance,’ he said as lightly as he could. ‘Merry Christmas.’

‘Cheers,’ Lance echoed.

Dusting off another glass from his drinks cabinet, he poured a nip of bourbon for himself. Not too much, as he had to drive back to Kirsten and he was probably still over the limit from last night. He perched on the edge of his desk and toasted Lance. The chairman’s bourbon was already half gone, but other than that Lance was staying amazingly cool, Tyler thought.

Maybe he’d underestimated the man. Perhaps he would be able to forgive and forget and not think too closely about Tyler making love to his wife when it came to global restructuring.

Even though she’d agreed to him going home, Kirsten had sounded worryingly distracted. The sooner he could get out of here, the better. He wanted to get Christmas over with as soon as possible and start next year with a clean sheet.

Tyler gulped his bourbon. ‘Look, Lance, I’ll come clean. We’re both men of the world.’ He spread his hands expansively. ‘I know what you’ve come to say to me.’

‘You do?’ Lance was clearly taken aback. ‘The Fossil Oil jungle drums must be in good working order, Christmas Eve or not.’

‘I can’t say that it makes me proud.’ Tyler hung his head and shook it regretfully.

‘Doesn’t it?’ Lance looked surprised.

Tyler paced the floor. ‘It’s not what I wanted to happen, Lance. I never did.’

Lance’s mouth gaped. ‘You didn’t? I thought it was what you wanted all along?’

‘No, no, no. I should never have let it go this far. I can only apologise.’ He should just throw himself on Lance’s mercy and get this over with. ‘I feel it’s only right that I offer you my resignation,’ Tyler said.

‘I hadn’t expected that,’ Lance said.

The chairman seemed to wipe a few beads of sweat from his brow.

‘I’m sorry to have put you in this position.’ Tyler hoped he looked suitably repentant. Was it really a shock? Surely Lance must have heard the rumours about him and Melissa before now? ‘Can I ask you how you found out?’

‘The usual way, I guess.’ Lance shrugged. ‘I’ve been busy on the phone this morning.’

‘Who was it that told you?’ He might as well hear it from the horse’s mouth.

Lance took another swig of his bourbon. ‘Bud Harman himself.’

‘Bud
Harman
?’ Tyler repeated. He was glad he hadn’t taken a drink, otherwise he might have choked on it.

So it looked as if Louise and Josh had gone straight to the top, bypassing Lance completely in their attempts to discredit him. If he’d known they were going to tell Harman, that might have altered his negotiating stance considerably.

No wonder Lance could afford to sit there and look so cool. It was out of his hands now. Whatever action he took, no one could accuse him of being vengeful. He would have Bud Harman’s blessing. It was game, set and match to Lance, and Tyler hadn’t even had a chance to pick up his racquet.

Tyler laughed shortly and bitterly. ‘So what’s going to happen now?’

Lance shook his head. ‘I need to speak to Bud again. I don’t have to tell you, he’ll be very disappointed, Tyler.’

‘He has every right to be, Lance – and, of course, so do you.’ Remorse, Tyler, think remorse. This could be rescued yet. He swallowed nervously. ‘I don’t
have
to go …’

Lance drained his glass and put it down on Tyler’s desk. ‘You’ve resigned, Tyler. If you think that’s the right thing, then you should stick with that decision.’

Tyler felt his mouth go dry. This wasn’t what he’d expected.

‘It might be a good thing,’ Lance continued, sounding so very magnanimous. ‘Fresh challenge and all that. We all need them from time to time. Perhaps I should have done the same when I was a younger man.’

It looked as if he’d walked straight into Lance’s trap. He’d thought the old man would panic at the thought of him leaving. After all, what was he without Tyler Benson at his right hand? He’d thought he’d called Lance’s bluff, but the wily old dog had played the trump card.

Lance stood to leave.

‘I can stay if you want me to,’ Tyler offered hastily, his voice coming out at a higher pitch than he would have liked. ‘How will you manage?’

Lance shrugged. ‘It’s not the end of the world. Fossil Oil will roll on without you. Have a good Christmas, Tyler.’ Lance patted his shoulder in a fatherly manner. ‘I’d better be making tracks. Melissa will be waiting for me.’

Lance headed back down the empty corridor. There was virtually no one left in the offices now.

Tyler felt his blood run cold. Was that it? His career at Fossil Oil over with nothing more than a pat on the back and a cheery wave? There was something not right about this.

‘Lance,’ Tyler called out. ‘Has this got something to do with Simon Conway’s arrival? Did he want me out?’

‘Conway? No need to worry about him,’ Lance said. ‘He just called me. He’s not joining Fossil now. He’s booked himself on a slow boat to corporate suicide. Said he’s found something much more important than the oil business.’ Lance laughed at that. ‘You youngsters!’ He shook his head. ‘He’s opening his own business somewhere. Abroad, I think. We’ve seen the last of him.’

Tyler was giddy with relief. Yes! Yes! Yes! Conway was gone! That was the best Christmas present he could possibly have. His nemesis was out of his hair. He could barely contain his ecstasy. He wanted to dance, sing, skip the light fandango and turn cartwheels across the floor. He restrained himself from punching the air and doing the conga along the corridor.

Then he remembered: it didn’t matter whether Conway worked for Fossil Oil or not. He’d stupidly tendered his own resignation and Lance had grabbed it with both hands. That hadn’t been his intention at all. How on earth was he going to explain it to Kirsten?

Chapter Fifty-nine

Josh Wallace was the obvious choice. Lance gnawed at the end of his pen. He should take Tyler’s job after Christmas. There was no one else in a senior role who understood the system over here so well and he’d been propping up the whole of the sales team for some time now.

Someone new would come in as chairman. Perhaps this shake-up had been coming for a while and Tyler was getting out while the going was good. Yes, Lance thought, it would be good to have a new broom in. So be it. He should set things in motion now.

He got Veronica to call Wallace’s number. It went to voicemail. No matter. That was the modern way.

‘Josh, Lance Harvey here,’ he said. ‘Some good news that I thought you’d want to know before Christmas. I’ve been promoted to executive president and I’m offering you the position of sales director. Tyler Benson has tendered his resignation today and, as far as I’m concerned, you’re the man for the job. When you pick up this message, call me and we can talk numbers.’

He dictated a note to Veronica. An offer letter needed to go to Wallace as soon as possible. She could sort out the contract for him in the new year.

Now that they probably weren’t moving back to America, he was going to take a more relaxed attitude to his work, he decided. Between travels, he’d spend more time with Melissa. Perhaps even try to reconnect with the boys. When he had his feet under the table, they should take a vacation together. All of the family. The Florida Keys, maybe. Lance smiled to himself. It had all worked out very well indeed. It would be nice to bat out his days at Fossil Oil.

The snow was coming down heavily. Fat lacy flakes that whitened the sky and whirled hypnotically to the ground, whipped by the ever-present winds which hugged the slab-sided modern buildings that characterised the ever-burgeoning city. He wanted to be home now for Christmas. He wanted to tell Melissa of his promotion, of the change of plan. Yet again. But, as Melissa always did, she’d take it in her stride.

He poured the remains of the bourbon bottle into his waiting glass. One for the road. Sipping the amber liquid and for once savouring its taste, he watched the snow fall, softening as it did the sharp-edged man-made landscape. It almost looked pretty. He buzzed Veronica.

‘Before you go, can you cancel my flights for Christmas Day?’ he said. ‘I’m not going to America now.’

‘Certainly, Mr Harvey.’

Perhaps he’d take the week after Christmas off. Completely. That would be a first. Melissa would be surprised at her new, relaxed husband. Perhaps he’d even give up the booze. After Christmas. Mustn’t be too hasty.

‘When you’ve done that, you can go home.’

‘Thank you, Mr Harvey.’

‘Merry Christmas, Veronica,’ he said.

‘Merry Christmas, Mr Harvey.’

Lance drained his glass and placed it with exaggerated care on his desk. He called Martin to say that he was ready to leave, but the call went to voicemail. Unusual. He thought his driver would be out there waiting for him as he normally was. He punched the number in again, but there was still no response. Never mind: by the time he got downstairs Martin was sure to be there. He’d never failed him yet.

He called Melissa, but there was no reply from her phone either. Was no one picking up today? Goddamn Christmas. He hung up without leaving a message. He’d be home soon enough. If she’d told him she was going somewhere today, then he couldn’t recall. Perhaps she’d simply got caught up in the frenzy of last-minute Christmas shopping. Lance smiled indulgently. It was just like her. He tutted to himself. He’d forgotten to ask Veronica what she’d bought for Melissa this year. But when he buzzed through to her office, his assistant had already left. Still, she always chose something wonderful and no doubt it had already been delivered and was waiting under the rather splendid Christmas tree in their living room. He was feeling in quite a festive mood.