Eighty One - Laura's Story Pt. 01

1

The gentle buzz of blended chatter filled the room. Only the occasional outbreak of convivial laughter penetrated his thoughts, reverting his mind to the present company. When appropriate he nodded agreement to feign attentiveness, which, on other occasions would have been genuine. That evening however his mind was preoccupied. Once again he casually glanced around the stunning Art Deco ballroom in eager anticipation.

They captured his attention as soon as he saw them enter the crowded room. They paused briefly as the waiter, dressed in his long apron, offered them drinks from the huge silver tray skilfully balanced on the finger tips of one hand. They both casually scanned the room before spotting their target and weaved their way through the throng of dark dinner suits and brand new 'little black dresses'.

She exchanged greetings and smiles whilst engaging in small talk, obviously comfortable in her surroundings. He watched her toy with the men, almost flirting. The half smiles and coy facial expressions were lapped up by both men and women. He considered her to be a woman used to playing games and using her feminine charms to get her own way. He loved how she moved with a natural grace as if floating from one group to another.

He continued to study her as they moved over to another couple. Physically she was all he had hoped for. After exchanging kisses and handshakes they paired off. The men appeared to engage in idle chatter as the women perused their counterparts. He used the moment to observe the other guests for himself and after a cursory glance around the room he concluded that she had little in the way of competition. She was 38, that had been easy to look up online, probably five feet 6 inches he would guess and slim but not petite. Slightly above average sized breasts and a firm, shapely rear. Yes, she would be very suitable.

But, whilst a very welcome bonus, it was not only her physical characteristics which had already gained his attention. Her manner and the way she held herself suggested a confidence, an air of authority even, which he loved the chosen women to have. Who could resist such a challenge?

He watched her as she chatted. He loved the way she tucked those errant strands of dark hair back behind her ear as she laughed and conspired with her friend. At that moment she looked directly at him and stopped as he caught her eye. With a slight raising of his glass and a brief nod he acknowledged the fact that she had recognised him. After a brief word with her husband he too glanced over and the pair made their way toward him.

As they approached, he continued with the appraisal. His eyes drifted down the long shapely legs, past delicate ankles encased in dark stockings to the black high heeled shoes--delightful. As she got closer he was better able to make a judgement and opted for attractive rather than beautiful--perfect. She did indeed have a natural charm and from the corner of his eye he could see others were also drawn to her appeal. The husband had that slightly uneasy, nervous look he often saw on the faces of people he did business with. She on the other hand looked relaxed and composed.

"Graham, how nice to see you again," the husband said.

"Andrew, it's been a while, how are you?" Without waiting for a reply he transferred his attention to the woman at her husbands side. "And this must be the beautiful Mrs Miller." After placing a kiss on the back of her hand in true 'Mr Darcy' style he continued. "Delighted to meet you at last."

"I'm so pleased to meet you too Mr Weston, but please, call me Laura. I'm sure we needn't be too formal."

"Very well, Laura it is." Whilst his smile and manner were warm and friendly the lack of reciprocation for first name terms made her slightly uneasy. He was quite happy to observe that unease, it pleased him.

"Lot's of people here, they should do well," she offered, breaking the awkward pause in conversation as he prolonged his assessment of her. As she spoke he watched her lips move beneath the flawless layer of rich red lipstick. Oh he was going to enjoy this. The hint of an upper class accent conveyed the impression of a well educated intelligent woman, attributes she would need in abundance if all went well. She was ticking all the boxes.

"They always do," he answered, "they give us a couple of drinks, squeeze as much money out of us as possible and send us packing. Charity work is a slick operation these days, we should learn from them. However, Andrew, I'm sure that you'd rather discuss other matters."

"Well yes, but I didn't know your views on discussing business matters out of hours."

"Protocol may forbid the discussion of business at these events Andrew, but in reality that's why we're all here isn't it? Look at these people. Are they here to support the charity? They could do that by making an anonymous donation online. No, they're here to puff out their chests and establish their place in the pecking order. They're putting down markers, setting things up for the next boardroom confrontation, and they're loving it."

"And why are you here Mr Weston?" Laura asked, "are you doing the same?"

"Of course. Research, evaluate, manoeuvre. Isn't that how we all work?"

"I'm sure it depends on what we want to achieve."

"How right you are Laura. It all depends on the outcome." His eyes held hers just a little longer than necessary before turning back to Andrew. "So Andrew, you must be wondering if the Oakham Group intend to buy those shares from your partner."

"Well, er, yes." He was caught slightly off guard, not expecting such a direct approach.

"We have considered it and it seems that we do have a couple of options."

Laura's heart sank, realising that either of those options would probably not be to their liking. She knew how people like Weston operated. Buy up the smaller players, save the best bits to integrate into their own set-up and discard the rest. Picking up on her discomfort Weston continued.

"Oh, don't worry Laura, I just told you that I've done my research. Why don't we get straight to the point and I tell you how I see things then you two can rectify any errors. My information came from various sources and I've used conjecture to fill in the gaps. So let's just see how much I've got correct."

Andrew and Laura shared an anxious glance. They knew Weston had the advantage which fuelled the smugness in his manner, perhaps there was even a hint of arrogance. But then he could afford to be aloof--he held all the cards.

"I think, Laura that when you started your business, what was it, twelve years ago?"

"Thirteen," she corrected.

"Thirteen, yes. Anyway, you hoped that a combination of your artistic talent and Andrews business background would be sufficient to see it take off and flourish. However, things didn't go as well as you hoped they would and you needed some backing."

"No, that's not what happened at all," Laura butted in defensively, "quite the opposite in fact. Things went better than I'd hoped, and still are actually." She paused momentarily to let him absorb the point. The holding of eye contact and a slight sideways tilt of the head showing her displeasure at having her professional competence questioned. "In fact things went so well that we decided to expand more rapidly than we'd originally planned."

"I see," he said, with an approving nod of the head, "so you invited a silent partner to invest in your little venture." She didn't like the word 'little' in there but let it pass. He carried on with his conjecture. "And they were happy for the situation to continue that way for some time. How am I doing so far?"

"That's pretty much how things happened, yes." Andrew confirmed.

"And there's the unusual part. Why didn't you just go fifty fifty, equal partners? Why only forty five percent each and then bring in, another outsider, for the ten percent?"

"We'd seen so many business partnerships fail," Laura told him, "mainly due to disagreements over the businesses future. So we agreed to sell off a small share to a larger group. If a problem did occur then the group would protect their investment with the necessary resources, advice and finance. It was a sort of insurance policy."

"Good, and so that brings us to your problem, which ironically was your success. You made it work and in fact have done so well that the partner now wants to cash in their investment and collect a tidy profit." They both knew he was right so far but whether he had as much information as he led them to believe was still in doubt.

"If you see being in charge of a profitable business, one gaining new contracts every week and earning an enviable reputation in the industry as a problem then yes, I suppose you're right."

The words which left her smiling mouth reached him not as boastful but as confirmation that he was dealing with a proud woman, high in self esteem--excellent news. Those qualities would be far more of a challenge to overcome, increasing his enjoyment of the contest.

"Those things are all true Laura but the key words were 'in charge of' and that's how you want it to remain is it not?"

"Obviously."

"And there lies your dilemma. Should Oakham, buy the available shares they would take control or even worse could sell it on to a competitor to be absorbed into a soulless conglomerate." They knew he was right but there was no need to admit it yet.

"We've obviously considered that possibility Graham," Andrew said, "and the obvious solution would be for us to buy the other shares and keep total control."

"That's just what we thought, so we wondered why you hadn't done that already. Obviously peoples personal finances are private so this is where the conjecture comes in. We found out, Andrew, that there has been a lot of investment in your own business in recent years yet you've managed to retain soul ownership--that's very impressive these days by the way. I would guess therefore that the investment has left you unable or unwilling to raise enough to solve the current problem."

He had done his research and drawn the correct conclusions.

"So what do you intend to do now?" Laura asked. "Are you going to buy the shares and hold the majority stake?"

"Oakham has enough 'irons in the fire' at present Laura. We do of course have the funds available to buy the shares should we choose to do so but I'm confident that we can bring this to a successful conclusion and let you keep control of your business."

Laura's' mind raced ahead analysing the most obvious possibilities. "And how do you envisage that happening?"

"We sell our ten percent to you two." He loved the facial expressions the unexpected statement created. The wide eyes and open mouth remained for a second before Laura composed herself.

"Just like that. You'll sell up giving us a majority holding?"

"Yes, just like that."

"At a hugely inflated price I imagine."

"No Laura, at a fair market price. We're not robbers you know."

"So what's the catch?"

"Well, actually, we shouldn't get what we want in life too easily should we, not good for the character and all that. No, you need to earn them."

"And how would we do that?" Andrew spoke slowly, displaying the suspicion he was feeling.

"Well, whilst doing my research I found out that you're a bit of a star on the tennis court. Singles champion two years running at your club. Very impressive."

"So we'll have a game of tennis, for the shares," Andrew quipped, "winner takes all?"

"Hardly. I would rather engage in sport of a different type." He turned to face Laura. "I prefer a battle of wills, a contest of strong minds, achieving a win through the use of strategic manoeuvres." He turned back to Andrew. "I also found out that you're a competent chess player. So that's my proposal. One game of chess. If you win you can buy the shares at a fair market price."

"And if he looses?"

"Laura, nobody wants to be a loser when playing a serious game." Did he answer her question or another one that she hadn't asked? Andrew tried to clarify the proposal.

"I still don't see what you get out of this Graham. If we win you sell the shares, but what if you win?"

"Then I don't sell and it's status quo." Before finishing the statement his eyes locked on Laura's and a part smile almost appeared at the corner of his mouth. "My reward would be the enjoyment of the game."

"And there are no strings attached. No surprises waiting round the corner?" Andrew pushed for some clarity.

"Andrew, don't be so suspicious. I have only two conditions the first is that you finish the game, I have a strong dislike for people who give up, who resign without seeing a game through to a conclusion. And secondly that you return any pieces you may loose." Before Andrew could ask his question Laura spoke.

"Then I don't see any reason for us not to accept your challenge Mr Weston. I don't play the game myself but this one," her head gesturing toward Andrew, "had better be as good as he's always telling me."

"Lets hope not, and I'll enjoy it even more." This time his smile was full and genuine. "Well, I shouldn't keep you from your friends any longer, I'll get my P.A. to write up the agreement and send over a copy Andrew, how does that sound?"

"Splendid, and thank you so much."

"Think nothing of it. It will be my pleasure, I assure you. Have a pleasant evening."

He then turned and left them. They watched him walk out of earshot before turning to each other, beaming smiles filled their faces and they giggled like schoolchildren.

2

During the summer months Andrews favourite time of day had to be early morning. Relaxing in the garden, as he often did, he admired the quality of the recently completed building work. Months of well planned but disruptive restoration on their Edwardian town house had rewarded them with the perfect home for their chosen lifestyle.

The radio played quietly in the background, the birds twittered in the trees and the first rays of direct sunshine penetrated the overhanging foliage as he leafed through the morning paper. His concentration was lost as Jasper bounded in through the French doors as soon as Laura appeared.

"There's a good boy, good dog," she said, ruffling his ears. Within a few seconds the half baked animal had reached the limit of his attention span and returned to lie in his favourite spot out in the garden.

"And how's my second favourite man this morning?" she asked Andrew, before placing a kiss on the top of his head.

"Just fine. You were sleeping so me and dimwit went over the common."

"Did he behave himself?"

"Not if you're a duck."

"He'll never change, and we don't want you to do we Jasper?" Laura said looking out into the garden. On hearing his name his eyes opened and his long tail smacked the ground twice. His body remained still.

"Coffee?" he asked leaving the newspaper spread open before him.

"That would be lovely. Thanks. What time are you going in today?"

"I'm not, I'm meeting clients at four this afternoon out this way so I told the office I'd work from home this morning."

Moving behind her as she opened the fridge he slipped his hands inside her loosely tied bathrobe and fondled her breasts. "I love it when your hairs still damp. You could call Abbie and tell her you'll be late. We could find something to do for a couple of hours."

"I've got work to do this morning you dirty old man so put those away and get the glasses if you want orange juice." He fetched two glasses.

"You were up late this morning. What time did you get to sleep?" He placed the glasses on the table. "Cereal?"

"Please. I don't know exactly. But it was late. I was thinking about Weston's' offer. Do you think he's serious?"

"I don't see why not. As he said, they were having a clear out and to them, a stake that small is probably more trouble than it's worth." He passed her cereal bowl and the milk jug.

"I suppose so. Do you think you can beat him at chess?"

"I've no idea. I'm no Grand Master and we have no idea how good he is, but then again, what have we got to loose. We might as well give it a go."

"Just think Sir Andrew, you could be my knight in shining armour riding to the rescue of the damsel in distress." She brushed the back of her hand across her brow before over acting a faint onto the table.

"That's very funny. Or I could slap your arse and send you off to work. How about that?"

"It's OK, I'm going. I'm not very hungry, Jasper can have this." She tipped the remaining cereal into the dogs bowl before disappearing upstairs.

The transformation from late riser to business woman took just twenty minutes. After eleven years of marriage she still had the ability to make him stop what he was doing and admire the head turner before him.

She wore her standard business clothes. A dark knee length skirt, slim fitting but not tight. The dark jacket buttoned up thus accentuating her slim waist. A white cotton blouse, tan tights and heeled black shoes completed the outfit. It was only one of the thousands which would be worn by women across the city every day but few, he thought, would look so stunning.

Laura rarely chose to wear trouser suits. She didn't consider dressing in a style desirable to the male eye to be augmenting gender stereotypes. She saw it as a tool to be used, a means available to her for gaining an advantage. The immaculate make-up and those red, full lips combined with her floating stride got her noticed. People liked dealing with those who radiated an air of confidence, it was infectious.

"No casual Friday then?" Andrew asked.

"The rest are but I've got a meeting. We've pitched on a new campaign for a chain of jewellery stores, sounds an interesting one actually."

"Great stuff, sounds like I'll be able to retire sooner than planned then."

"In your dreams, buddy. I'll leave my car here and use the tube. See you later." She left soon after kissing Andrew and fussing Jasper.

When Laura finally got to the office it looked as busy as usual, a hive of ordered activity. She took pride in the fact that she had chosen and hired such a cohesive and dedicated team to work with. The most invaluable being Abbie, her assistant. She always told Andrew that even if she took a week off with no warning Abbie would sort things out. She could never let her go.

"And what time do you call this Laura Miller? Strolling in here at..." Abbie looked at her watch. "Nine thirty. The boss will be after you and you know what she's like."

"She's a bitch, so they say. Don't tell her though, she thinks nobody knows. We were out late last night."

"Oh yes, the charity do. How did it go, any good gossip?"

"Abbie, you're supposed to ask how the business networking went, whether I made any exciting new contacts, or possibly picked up any new clients."

"Did you?"

"No, but there was some bloody good gossip." Laura casually strolled off into her office, purposely leaving the door open knowing Abbie couldn't resist.

"What?" She exclaimed, "I'll get the coffees and you can fill me in on all the details." Abbie rushed down the hallway to the kitchenette returning minutes later with two piping hot coffee's and the vital biscuits.

"Go on then." She said, handing Laura her coffee.

"Well, you know when we had that meeting at Morgans, the outdoor clothing people?"

"Yes, and?"

"What did you say on the way back?"

Abbie thought back to the incident, then it suddenly dawned on her. "That tall bloke and his assistant? And were they?"

"They certainly were and his wife found out. Kicked him out and he's moved in with the assistant."

"Nooooo, brilliant!" Abbie giggled.

"He was there on his own," Laura continued, "didn't seem too upset either. From what people were saying he came out of it with a good deal. Wife was a bit of a cow anyway apparently. So it seems that you don't miss much do you, I'd better be careful."