Page 16 of Hard Deal
After printing and binding Gerald’s “day book,” she headed to his office. His receptionist, Mary, waved her through.
Gerald was the kind of CEO who picked his team with great care—which was a nice way of saying that he had zero tolerance for idiots. Mary was the “face” of the CEO’s office, playing gatekeeper for him and the boardroom. Imogen worked more on the business side of things, organising his documents and taking minutes during his leadership meetings. The three of them made a tight-knit, effective team.
It was everything she’d hoped for when she started out as a temp. Hard work and keeping her nose clean had helped her rise to the top. She couldn’t ruin that now by getting entangled with the CEO’s least favourite son.
Imogen knocked softly before pushing the door open to find Gerald discussing business with Jason and Caleb. He waved her in but continued talking. She sat at the table by the window and waited for them to finish. It gave her a moment to observe the three men; the Allbrook family had an interesting dynamic.
“We need to consider the cost of such events,” Gerald said. “The reason we’ve been able to weather these hard times is because we’ve kept a firm grip on unnecessary spending.”
“A leadership retreat isn’t unnecessary,” Caleb said. “If we don’t invest in our team we’ll keep losing people. It looks bad to have another executive leave so soon after Joe.”
Gerald stood at his desk, his hands linked behind his back. He wore a dark navy double-breasted suit and a light blue tie. Jason’s outfit was identical except his suit had a more modern cut and the blue tie was shot through with white stripes. They were every bit the successful father and son duo, practically ready for a Forbes cover shoot.
In contrast, Caleb wore a light grey suit with a blue windowpane check, a hot-pink tie and a silver polka-dot pocket square that should have looked hideous, but somehow managed to appear stylish and bold. His blond hair was loosely styled, but she could tell it’d been a rough morning. He tended to run his hands through his hair a lot when he was stressed and the telltale flop of the lock at the front said he’d already played with it too much.
“Shouldn’t this be covered by our People and Culture budget?” Caleb asked. “We don’t have to go crazy, but we do need to show them we reward loyalty.”
“It sounds like we’re pandering to their egos,” Gerald scoffed.
“No, you’re valuing them. How is that a difficult concept? Doesn’t our HR team collect talent retention data? If we’re doing that with entry-level staff, why not with the people we’re paying five times as much?”
“They should stay with the company because this is the best place to work, not because we’re funding these wasteful events.”
“It’s worth considering,” Jason interjected. It wasn’t the first time Imogen had seen the elder Allbrook son playing peacemaker between his conservative father and creative younger brother—he was definitely the buffer in that relationship. “The cost to onboard one or two executives far outweighs what we would spend on a retreat. You might see it as pandering, but we can tie it to our new strategy rollout. Get them on board with where we want to take the company, give them ownership of the new direction.”
Gerald thought for a moment. “You have a point, Jason.”
Imogen cringed. It was like anything that came out of Caleb’s mouth was disregarded as fluff, but the second Jason chimed in the idea suddenly had merit. Given Caleb looked like he wanted to set fire to the office, he must have thought it, too.
“Put together a page with rough costs and benefits.” Gerald took a seat behind his desk. “I want it on my desk by the end of the day.”
Jason nodded and headed out of the office, his head bowed as he tapped at his phone. Caleb walked over to Imogen. The frustration he’d been exuding a moment ago had vanished, replaced by a wolfish smile.
“Come past my office when you’re done with the old man,” he said, his voice low.
“I’m busy. What do you need?” She pretended to inspect her compendium. “I’ll find one of the roaming assistants to help you.”
“I’m afraid you’re the only one who can help with this,” he said. His hand came to her shoulder and she bit down on her lip to keep from reacting. “And please don’t crash tackle me to the ground this time.”
Well, fudge.
* * *
Caleb popped the cufflinks on his shirt and rolled his sleeves back as he slumped into his leather desk chair. It felt like he’d been split in two.
On one hand he was livid at his father...again. His idea, which apparently had been a “waste of money,” was suddenly worthy of attention the second Jason got involved. No doubt the retreat would turn into another success for the golden child, while Caleb sat on the sidelines. Story of his fucking life.
But the other half of him was running on electric excitement. All weekend he’d thought about how to handle today—should he give Imogen the chance to fess up on her own? He hadn’t planned to drop it on her like that, but watching her sit at his father’s table in her prim grey suit, pearls around her neck, was a temptation impossible to ignore.
Besides, he needed something to focus on or else he’d storm back into the old man’s office and have it out with him once and for all.
There’s no point—nothing is going to change. You’ve tried and failed to make things right, so set yourself on cruise control and get back to enjoying the good things in life.
For years he’d assumed his relationship with his father would level out at some point. Become a little less...prickly. But time had the opposite effect and they’d drifted further apart. These days they swung from arguing to not talking, without any of the pleasant middle ground. His mother was constantly trying to bring them together—but Gerald never seemed interested, and so Caleb decided he wasn’t, either.
“Caleb?” His assistant, Mina, poked her head into his office. “Imogen is here to see you. She said you asked her to stop by.”
“Send her in.”