The Problem with Perfect Page 13

  It wasn’t the first time he’d suspected it, but this as much confirmed it for him. She loved her job. Perhaps even more than she loved Julian. For a long time, he’d wondered how Julian had been able to get away with so much – the apartment, the Sydney trips without his wife noticing, the secret bank accounts – notwithstanding his caution, but all the same, perhaps it hadn’t been that hard to sneak it all past a woman who described her job as her second husband.

  For the first time, Finn felt a pang of sympathy for Julian. Imagine being in a polygamous relationship with Marigold and D-Line? As she locked eyes with him, his sympathy vanished. Being married to Marigold, even having to share her with D-Line, could in no way have been bad enough to rent an entire apartment to escape her.

  Julian had no idea how good he’d had it.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Marigold

  The question is…would I even make these smoothies? Do I even like smoothies?

  Marigold looked at the text message that had come in from her brother and responded. How would I know? Don’t you know what you like?

  I barely know my own name anymore. I’ve had four hours sleep in two days.

  Marigold let out a pffft. Join the club, brother. Ask Amelia what you like.

  She says I don’t, came the response.

  Good thing there was one person with a brain in that household. Question answered, she typed back.

  But it looks good. It says that it keeps the core vitamins in there.

  For goodness sake. Core vitamins? What was he turning into? Much more time and she wouldn’t recognise him at all. She shook her head as she replied to his message. Since when do you care about vitamins?

  Since I’ve lived in a house with kids. Do you know how many colds and bugs they bring home from that damned school? I should hose them off with disinfectant in the front yard before they come in the house. Run them through a sheep dip.

  She actually let out a laugh at that. She’d never given too much thought to children bringing home various bugs and colds from school or kindergarten or other places, but yes, she supposed they would.

  She and Julian had loosely discussed children. They both wanted them but it was ‘on the agenda’. They’d never sat down and given it much thought, but it had crossed her mind several times as to how it might work with their busy careers. Not to mention the fact that she didn’t feel that maternal ache.

  Julian hadn’t raised the issue in a while, and neither had she. More evidence he was planning to get out? You didn’t exactly start a family with someone who you were thinking of leaving, that was for sure.

  ***

  The next morning she was making a cup of tea when a text from Kendall came in. I’m in Byron Bay, but Sarah from the Finance department says the Adelaide deal is being called off.

  What!?! Marigold texted back. Sarah? She shut her eyes trying to visualise the Finance department before the flash of a woman with red hair came up in her memory. She’d usually use her directory, but her access had been blocked, so she rang the switchboard of D-Line and put her fingers around her nose to disguise her voice to something that would match her favourite fake name in case the receptionist had been instructed to not put her through to anyone. “Hello, it’s Jocelyn Adams here, may I speak to Sarah in the Finance team?”

  “Sarah? Do you have a surname?” the receptionist asked.

  “No, I’m sorry. Sarah, she has red hair.”

  The receptionist gave a disapproving sigh but a few clicking noises followed that indicated she was putting ‘Jocelyn’ through.

  “Hello, this is Sarah.”

  “Sarah, it’s Marigold Doyle. I’m hearing the Adelaide deal is in trouble. What’s happening?”

  “Err,” Sarah hesitated. “Perhaps you’d best speak to Peter about that.”

  “I’m talking to you about it. What’s happening?”

  “They’ve accused us of low-balling them. They want a guarantee there’ll be no redundancies. They’re worried about their staff.”

  Marigold shook her head. This wasn’t anything new. She’d carefully run through all this with them. They had nothing to worry about. The firm was run well, and the operations were tight. She wasn’t planning redundancies.

  “When the deal changed, they got cold feet.”

  “What? Changed? Changes to the deal I’ve been negotiating for months?”

  Sarah paused. “Your father told me that you weren’t working on this at the moment with—”

  “Yes, I’m taking some leave, but I want to know. Can you update me or Kendall if you find anything else out? I’ll owe you.”

  Sarah made a non-committal sound but it was enough for Marigold. She’d found out plenty already.

  It was time to get to work.

  Chapter Thirty

  Marigold

  “Marigold.” Peter’s eyebrows rose when she walked into his office. “How are you, love?”

  Love. No. This wasn’t a cosy family gathering. This was work. “I hear the Adelaide deal is falling over. I’m here to help. Brief me. Where are we at?”

  Her father gave a heavy sigh. “Darl, you’re on gardening leave.”

  Darl. Could blood literally boil? If so, it was doing it at the moment as red-hot anger spread through her.

  “Not anymore, I’m not. Brief me. What’s going on? I’ll get Ray on the phone. We’ll sort this all out. Last time I spoke to him, everything was fine. I’m not sure what has happened, but clearly you need me here to get this over the line.”

  “Marigold. Sit down.”

  She looked at her father, surprised at his tone. She obeyed and sat down, pulling her hands into her lap. She was ready to work. Ready to get this sorted.

  “Things haven’t been going well on the merger.”

  She let out a scoff. Of course, they hadn’t. It was her merger, and she’d been sent on leave. No wonder it was all falling down. But it didn’t matter. She was here now. She could fix this.

  “But,” her father continued. “They were until—”

  “What happened?” She leaned forward. Who’d screwed this up? Oh! She remembered the last time she saw her father, he’d said that he’d taken over the negotiations rather than Jonathan Carbine, the expensive business consultant he’d hired after he sent her on leave. Well, that would show her father – outsiders simply didn’t care about the business like she did. Jonathan hadn’t been up to the job.

  Her father looked away, out of his window for a moment, before turning back to face her. “The day after Julian died. When you came in to the office.”

  “I didn’t come into the office that day.” After the police had left, she’d tried to get some rest and then spent the next day talking to Julian’s parents, her family, the police and funeral directors. “I would remember what happened the day after my husband died. Believe me, I wish I could block it out. It was a horrible day.”

  “That’s the thing. We think you were in some sort of shock. You came into the office. As normal. Kendall didn’t even realise anything had happened. None of us did. And in that time, you got on the phone to Ray and changed the terms of the merger.”

  The sound of blood pumping echoed through her ears as her heart beat more quickly. “I did what?” she whispered.

  “The first I saw of you that day was when you came in here and told me Julian died. I took you home and that’s when we started making the arrangements.”

  “No,” she croaked. “That’s not what happened.”

  “It is, Marigold.” Her father’s face looked pained. He was telling the truth. She knew him well enough to know that face.

  “I don’t even remember.” She brought her hand to her temple. “Did I? No. I… I…”

  What had she done that day? She closed her eyes. The night she’d found out Julian had died, she’d been reading a report when there had been a knock on the door. Figuring it was only Julian who’d forgotten his keys after returning from a run, she’d glanced at the clock, surprised at how l
ong he’d been gone. She’d lost track of time; she was so absorbed in a government report into road funding that she’d zoned out.

  She’d gone to the door, only to find two police officers there, asking if she was “Mrs King” and if they could come in. And from there, the next thing she remembered was identifying his body.

  That cold, stainless steel room, checking to see whether the body was, in fact, her husband. It had been. Seeing Julian – her Julian, laid out like that, devoid of colour, devoid of life, devoid of his razor-sharp legal brain, devoid of that funny little smile he’d give her, devoid of his athleticism. It had been possibly the worst moment of her life.

  But after that, she’d been at home. Working through the arrangements, speaking to Julian’s parents. She hadn’t come into the office. But her father was so adamant.

  “If that’s what happened, it doesn’t matter. I’m fine now,” she said. “I’m sure lots of people do funny things in shock, but it doesn’t mean they aren’t ok.”

  “No. This is a Captain’s call. You need time.”

  “I don’t want time!” Her voice was louder than she intended. “You have been stalling on me taking over for years. Years! I finally got a timeline out of you, but now you’re stalling yet again! You’ve been saying you want me to run this place. Well, let me run it!”

  Her father stood up. “Marigold, this isn’t the time or the place.”

  “Then when? When? I’ve dedicated my life to this place – potentially to the detriment of my marriage. No, definitely to the detriment of my marriage – and now you are blocking me out from the only thing I care about?”

  Her father’s assistant appeared at the door, a startled expression on her face. Her father waved her away.

  “Come on, let’s get you home.” He moved to put his arm around her but she batted it away.

  “No! I’m sick of this. I have done everything you ever wanted me to do here. This isn’t about Julian. This is about you not wanting to let go!”

  “Marigold.” Her father’s voice was low. “I do want you to take over. Believe me, I do. But right now, this is not the time to discuss this.”

  She turned and marched down the hallway towards her office. “Let me sort this out with Ray – seriously, I’m sure he’ll understand,” she called back to her father.

  A few colleagues had appeared by now, perhaps due to her shouting in the office earlier. She could feel their eyes on her.

  “Marigold!” Peter appeared at her office door. “It’s best to go home, now. I mean this. I’m getting Rose.”

  “I don’t need Rose! Why won’t everyone in this bloody family leave me alone? I’ve had it up to here with blooming Pilates and Rose and her stupid ideas and my mother and her complaining about my skin and taking me to tea. I want to work!”

  Her father grabbed her shoulders and looked her in the eye. “Marigold, your husband died. You have been through a traumatic experience. You need time.”

  And with those words, she felt the tears start to fall down her face and her legs crumple beneath her. Her father caught her and sat her down on a nearby chair as she sobbed.

  “Can you find Rose, please?” she heard him ask someone.

  “Dad, I’ll take her home.” Rose arrived and put her arm around Marigold.

  Unsure exactly how she got back to her car, she found herself bundled up in the front and Rose starting the ignition with the keys from Marigold’s handbag that her father’s assistant had brought out for her.

  They arrived at Marigold’s house a little later, Rose bringing Marigold’s car to a stop.

  “How will you get back to work?” Marigold asked.

  “I’ll get an Uber or the train. Don’t worry about me.” Rose climbed out of the car and Marigold did the same. “Let’s get you inside. I’ll make you a tea. Why don’t you change?” she asked as she unlocked the front door.

  Marigold walked inside, upstairs, slowly. Her legs felt heavy; her whole body felt heavy. She peeled off her suit and kicked it away, pulling on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. She moved back downstairs, her legs struggling to carry her. She clutched the bannister.

  “I made tea.” Rose pointed towards a teapot and cups and saucers. “In a teapot and everything. Isn’t this nice?”

  “What’s nice about any of this?”

  Rose looked startled for a moment, but picked up the teapot and poured out two cups. Her eyes glazed over and Marigold knew she’d gone too far. Rose was only trying to help.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you. I’m upset. What happened back there?” She shut her eyes as her yelling and storming through the offices came back to her. The looks from the colleagues. The whispering.

  “You’ve had a big shock.” Rose’s voice was kind and gentle.

  “But, did I really screw it up? I don’t even remember coming into work. Did I really go into work the day after Julian died?”

  Rose gave a little nod.

  Marigold took a deep breath. “I really wanted that deal to happen, but I don’t remember that. What’s happening to me?”

  “You’re grieving,” Rose jumped up and pulled Marigold towards her. “It’s ok to make mistakes after your husband passed away. It’s ok to make mistakes any time.”

  “Not me. I always tried so hard to be perfect.”

  “Marigold,” Rose sighed; a sigh that had such wisdom and worldliness that defied her young age, “I think that’s the problem.”

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Finn

  Finn had two meetings at D-Line that afternoon. The first was with Emily in the Operations team to discuss the security cameras in the trucks, and the second was with Peter, who he knew would want an update on Marigold. At least he could truthfully tell Peter that Marigold was busy, but he still felt uncomfortable about hiding the apartment from him.

  The life of a double agent.

  “Coffee?” Emily asked, holding up a mug at him.

  “Thanks.” He stifled a yawn. He’d finally received Julian’s phone records, and he’d stayed up late the night before checking them against Julian’s mobile, trying to rule them out as work-related or personal. But because of his line of work, there were so many: solicitors, Aaron, colleagues, clients, friends, family. The man must have spent most of his waking hours glued to his phone.

  While most seemed fairly legitimate, a couple had troubled him: a few that showed up on his bill with text messages and phone calls but not in his phone. He’d called a couple of them. One was disconnected and he made a note to try to trace it. Another, he’d called to no avail. It was connected at least with a polite message from a female that she was unable to take the call but please leave a number and a message. He didn’t leave a message but he’d continue to try. Julian deleting his call history with this mystery woman was interesting.

  But he needed to focus on why he was at D-Line at the moment. Between them, his other clients, Peter and Marigold, he felt as though he had eight or nine full-time jobs. No wonder the migraines were coming with alarming regularity. He’d taken a Replax on his way here today as a few familiar twinges in his temple had begun.

  He followed Emily through to the kitchenette, where she boiled the jug and handed him a mug. While not officially an employee of D-Line, he had a security pass to enter and exit as he pleased, and was encouraged to work from there at times as if he did. Peter’s Executive Assistant usually found him a hot desk or a meeting room to work from. It was particularly convenient if he needed to schedule a number of meetings with D-Line employees about security matters.

  “Haven’t missed the afternoon show today, have I, Ems?” a man interrupted, giving Finn a nod and starting to make a cup of tea for himself.

  “No.” Emily’s voice was low and firm. “And I don’t think that’s appropriate to talk about,” she added, almost in a hiss, as the man gave a shrug.

  Emily smiled at Finn. “Let’s start this meeting, shall we?” She indicated towards the door and walked out of the kitchen.
>
  “Everything alright?” Finn asked as they walked through the corridors.

  “Oh, ignore Marty. He’s a bit of a gossip. I don’t like speculating on the Doyle family, but not everyone shares that opinion. There was a little drama here this morning.”

  “Drama?”

  “Marigold had an argument with Peter. It was awful. I was two meeting rooms away and I could hear the whole thing. She’s been under so much pressure since her husband died and I think it all just blew up. It’s so unlike her. She’s always so professional – she doesn’t even call Peter ‘Dad’ at work. But it must be the grief. It does strange things to people.”

  Finn took a sip of his coffee as he walked alongside Emily. Marigold came by and made a scene? That wasn’t like her. “Yes, I would imagine it’s just the pressure,” he said carefully.

  “Good, this meeting room is free,” Emily said. “Now, how did you get on with the cameras? What do you think is a good reasonable timeline to roll them out?”

  They sat down at a table and started working through the security camera issue, but Finn was distracted – somewhere between curious about what had happened that morning at the offices, and worried about Marigold.

  ***

  After his meeting with Emily, Finn walked down the corridor towards Peter’s office and said hello to his assistant.

  “Finn,” Peter said, appearing at the door of his office. “Come in.”

  “Peter, thanks for seeing me. I heard about this morning. I’m so sorry.”

  Peter heaved a sigh and sat down at his desk. He adjusted his tie as he indicated for Finn to sit down opposite. “Marigold tries so hard to keep any sort of family matters out of here, she’d hate people to be gossiping about her.”

  “I’m sorry. I’ve let you down. Clearly, this is what you were worried about and I was nowhere to be seen.” Finn ducked his head but remembered his father’s advice about always looking people in the eye. He raised his eyes to meet Peter’s.

  “No.” Peter shook his head. “Nothing like that. I didn’t ask you to escort her everywhere. I asked you to keep an eye on things and you have. Besides, she was on a mission. She is near impossible to stop when she gets an idea in her head that she’s desperate to fulfil.”