Page 68 of Third Time’s a Charm

“Well, you were sent here to do a job. You haven’t done it.” Tate shrugs. “And I’ve had to come over to sort it out myself. Clearly, you’re not up to managing the European operation.”

“Don’t worry, I’m sure we’ll find something for you to do in the UK,” John interjects as though he’s now one of the decision-makers. The fact that Tate would give Mackelden a job in Europe—the job he promised me—tells me just how deep their dirty connection goes. If I had more time to dig, I’d undoubtedly come up with some grubby information Mackelden has on Tate, because guys like these two are cunning and don’t leave anything to chance. They’re without doubt in a state of mutually assured destruction.

I wonder briefly why Tate didn’t just get John to shut down the Australian office. But the answer hits me quickly. In the same way Tate didn’t want to get his own hands dirty, he didn’t want John to either. I’m the sacrificial lamb.

“Of course we will. Once all the dust has settled.” Tate rubs his hands together as though it’s all resolved. Which, I guess, in his mind, it is. “John will take over European operations as soon as the announcement about closing the Australian operation is made.”

Even though I don’t want the job, I can’t keep quiet.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. You’re giving Europe to the guy who drove the Australian business into the ground?” I channel all the anger I have about their behaviour into my voice. “If you put him in charge in Europe, he’ll take that down too.” I suck in a deep breath.

John leans back in his seat, eyes glittering. All he’s missing is a bucket of popcorn.

“Well, fortunately, that’s not your decision to make.” Tate dismisses my concerns.

“You’re putting the entire organisation at risk. Europe is an entirely different beast than Australia. He’ll never be able to make it work.”

“So you don’t think Louise Baker’s proposal had the potential to save the business?” Tate laughs as though it’s a ludicrous idea. I’d bet he hasn’t even read it.

Despite what I’ve said about Louise’s proposal, now I have to talk it down. I don’t want him to know yet how much I want what I plan to ask for. I recall all the hateful things Mackelden said about her and her proposal.

“I figured, in a bumfuck nowhere little market like Australia, maybe it was worth a shot, since you’re shutting it down anyway. But just ask John here. According to him”—I turn towards the man who was nothing but scathing and now wants to use her ideas—“Louise is nothing more than a little eye candy for the office. Her plan is all airy-fairy ideas and pie in the sky. If you think that’s going to be enough to save the business, you’ve got rocks in your head. It’s doomed to fail. You want to shut the business down? You’ll be doing it in record time. Just like the Australian office.”

The door flies open, smacking against the wall so hard it rebounds and almost knocks Louise over.

Her eyes are wild, cheeks glowing as red as they do right after she comes. Which should be the furthest thing from my mind, because the disgust on her face is visceral. And aimed at me.

“How could you?” she spits at me, ignoring Tate entirely. “You lying, cheating piece of shit. I trusted you.” I don’t know how much she heard, but it’s probably both more and less than is helpful.

“Louise …” I start. There’s a dagger in my heart. Or maybe it’s in hers. Either way, it’s the same. Because somewhere along the way, my heart became hers.

With a face full of false friendliness that I hope Louise can see through, Tate claps his hands together. “Ah, this must be the delightful Ms Baker.”

He rises to his feet and holds out his hand to Louise, who ignores it. He continues regardless. “I’ve heard you put together an interesting proposal. Perhaps you could walk me through it?”

“Walk you through …?” Her gaze swings to him, eyes burning. “Are you serious? Or did I hear incorrectly? Because it sounded to me like my proposal was considered airy-fairy, pie in the sky that’s doomed to fail. So why on earth would you want to hear my ideas? And why on earth would I now want to share them with you?” That last word is spat at me. Which, based on how much I suspect she heard, I thoroughly deserve. I only hope I get the chance to explain.

“Well, you do still work for me, if I’m not mistaken. Your ideas, therefore, belong to me. Jasper doesn’t seem to think they’ll save the business.” Which is not what I said at all, but Tate continues, “But once we’ve finalised closing down the Australian operation, we can maybe give them a shot in one of the other regions.”

“You want to take my ideas and use them somewhere else. Because you’re closing the Australian office.” Her gaze swings back to Tate. It’s more statement than question. There’s nothing wrong with her hearing. Only with the context and meaning behind what she heard.

“Ah, yes. I’m sorry you heard that. Although you really shouldn’t be listening at closed doors. Jasper was, indeed, sent here with a brief to shut the business down. I’ve just called in to make sure things were being wrapped up efficiently.”

The malicious expression on his face indicates he knows exactly what he’s doing. Not to put too fine a point on it, he’s a complete prick. A bully. It’s a good day at the office for him if he gets to shoot down someone’s dream, fire someone, or otherwise cause disappointment and despair. Burning Louise’s dream to the ground will bring him nothing but pleasure. Whether he knows he’s taking me down with her, I don’t yet know. Nor do I care. It’s Louise who matters.

“You … What? This was the plan all along?” There’s the slightest wobble in her voice, but she’s holding it together better than I would have expected.

“Yes. Jasper has done a great job getting everything in place.” Tate lies as easily as breathing. “John Mackelden is being moved to the European operation.” Tate and John smirk at each other. Louise doesn’t even bother to look at John. “As for the rest of you, well, it shouldn’t be more than a day or two before everything is in place. I’m sure I don’t have to ask for your discretion until a formal announcement can be made to the other staff and the media.”

I should say something. But my tongue is fused to the top of my mouth, and I can’t grasp a single coherent thought.

“Discretion …” Disbelief has her voice a couple of octaves higher than usual. Louise is vibrating with anger and betrayal. “I think you’ve abdicated any right to my discretion with your reprehensible, underhanded behaviour, Mr Brown. And in case it needs to be said, I quit.”

With a withering look at me, she turns and stomps from the room.

“Flighty little thing, isn’t she?” Tate turns to me, a sly smile on his stupid face.

I surge to my feet. I’ve had enough. Louise is right. His behaviour deserves no discretion.