The daily morning planning meetings took place in the spacious and luxuriously furnished boardroom of Carlyle Enterprises, Sabrina imperiously chairing them from her position at the head of the table. She had scoffed when the interior decorators had originally spec'ed a round table for the space and had fired them instantly. Obviously people who would suggest such an outlandish idea had no insight into her, or how she expected every aspect of her surroundings to leave no question as to exactly who was in charge here. The other end held a tray of beverages; no one had sat there since Boone had left. His chair had remained, but empty, after the crash and until his rescue, and then had immediately been removed and disposed of when he'd resigned.
Irene took her seat a few chairs down on Sabrina's right. With attrition running its' natural course, she'd advanced further and further towards the table's head as her seniority moved her closer and closer to the merciless glare of the company's president.
The schedule, updated each and every morning, appeared on the screens of the electronic tablets recessed into the easily concealed compartments on the surface of the table in front of each chair. Given the technology, it was a different table, of course, from the one that had had the two Carlyle's face off against each other, but it was still the same shape and size.
Each staffer gave a brief progress report as their turn arose. Finally Sabrina turned to Irene. "I see that the date of the Jackson wedding has been changed."
"Yes, the caterer's turned down the contract for the 23rd." She answered the implied question.
"Turned down? You mean they were already booked? Please be clear with your answers, Irene." Sabrina frowned in irritation.
"No actually they weren't already booked, their son's birthday party is going to be on the 23rd, and so they said no." She clarified, thinking that Sabrina should already know that, wouldn't she be invited to her own grandson's birthday?
Sabrina looked at her in disbelief. "They certainly won't be in business very long if they're in the habit of turning down lucrative assignments for a child's birthday. They'll run out of money and go under in no time."
Irene became increasingly perturbed. She checked the screen to be sure that the name of the catering company was correct; Sabrina was talking about them like they were strangers. "Uhm, actually when I was speaking to one of the owners, I got the impression that this is more a labour of love than anything." She glanced, without meaning to, at the place Boone used to occupy.
Sabrina cleared her throat, pointedly drawing Irene's attention back to her.
"And I'm very confident that they won't run out of funding, they come from money." She was starting to get the distinct impression that Sabrina had no idea about Boone's new business venture. She wondered if she could have a little fun with this, and still end up with a job at the end of the day. "And they also both got really big insurance settlements, it was in all the papers about ten years ago, there were part of a group who sued an airline."
"Money or no, they obviously have no management experience what so ever." Sabrina dismissed Irene's observations.
"The female partner seems very professional, though I think you're right that she doesn't have any actual experience. Still when I spoke to her we concluded everything very quickly, and she faxed the signed contracts back to me within 15 minutes. And the male partner has a business degree, he's run a company before, in fact more than once." She was starting to enjoy herself, but she was soooo getting fired later. Maybe Boone would consider hiring her, she speculated.
"Hmpf, more than once? Must have been released then for ineptitude." The girl was starting to irritate her with her continuing defence of these people.
"No, he quit, and now he's changed professions too." She wondered if Sabrina knew even that much.
"He probably had to quit and change professions, because of his poor reputation." Sabrina was beginning to believe that there was something that Irene was hiding.
"I doubt it. I think he just really wanted to be a chef instead, at least that was the impression I got when I talked to Boone." She let the name come out as nonchalantly as she could.
The pieces suddenly falling into place, Sabrina glared at her, her jaw muscles clenched. She realized the woman had purposely played her for a fool, in front of her employees, and she'd fallen right into it.
She abruptly turned to the man directly across the table from Irene, progressing to the next staff member. She would deal with the insubordinate Irene, and her disappointment of a son, in private, after the meeting. "Ralph, report!" she demanded.
Irene managed to talk her way out of dismissal later in Sabrina's private office. Her doe eyed innocent insistence that she'd naturally assumed that Sabrina knew all about her son and step-daughters' new business venture had been met sceptically, but the logic of her stance couldn't be denied.
Irene, for her part, couldn't believe that she'd actually flirted with throwing away such a well paying job just because she'd realized that she temporarily had the upper hand on her boss. She'd become accustomed to the upscale trappings that she could afford on her substantial salary. While she knew that she could easily have found a position with another similar company in the city, there was a certain cache about working for Carlyle Enterprises.
Sabrina considered having her secretary get Boone on the line for her, but this was a private matter and she preferred dealing with it herself. She speculated that gossip might swell after the travesty of the meeting this morning, which was followed by her announcement to Irene of, "Miss Sutton, my office now," as they all filed from the room.
She spent two fruitless hours alternately calling Boone's cell, only to be told that the subscriber was unavailable, and then, after getting CR Catering's phone number from the company data base, calling his work number and extension, each time frustratingly being put through to his mail box. She had made a small exclamation of disgust when, during her first call, the automated attendant had listed Shannon's name, extension and title before his.
As her annoyance mounted, and she got his chipper voice mail announcement for the third time, she pressed zero for the receptionist.
"CR Catering," Margie announced a sincere smile in her voice. She loved her job. Most of the people who called were so nice, all excited about whatever special event the company was going to be catering, and Boone and Shannon made her feel like family, as they did all their employees.
"This is Sabrina Carlyle. I want to speak to my son." Her officious voice grated in Margie's ear.
"I'm sorry Mrs. Carlyle, but Boone is unavailable just now." She forced herself to be pleasant in spite of the imperious tone of the woman on the other end of the line. Boone was in the kitchen, and Shannon had instituted a strict rule that he wasn't to be disturbed in there unless it was an emergency.
Sabrina's eyes narrowed in anger. "I'll speak to Shannon then." She spat the name as if she was trying to rid herself of a nasty taste in her mouth.
"Ms. Rutherford is out of the office, but I can put you through to her voice mail, or take a message if you'd like." Her voice became overly syrupy as she used Shannon's last name. If the woman on the other end of the line was going to try to pull rank, then she was too.
Sabrina hung up without saying anything further, only to call back an hour later. Margie recognized her voice immediately, of course, and once again told her that Boone could still not come to the phone, in fact, she informed her, Mr. Carlyle would most probably be busy for the rest of the afternoon.
"Is Shannon back then?" She gritted the question through her teeth.
"Ms. Rutherford is in her office, I'll see if she can take your call, one moment please." Margie pushed the hold button and made a face at the receiver. "Shannon?" she called out.
"Yeah Margie?" she answered from across the hall; her office was so close to Margie's desk that they rarely used the intercom.
"There's a woman on the phone, this is the second time I've spoken to her today. She wants to talk to you, she says she's Boone's mother." Though how he could be so sweet and his mother so unpleasant made her wonder if she really was.
Shannon winced, already reading Margie's tone. "Is she nasty and condescending?"
"Yeah, little bit," she allowed.
"Then it probably is." Shannon slouched in her seat, sighing in resignation then pushed the button next to the flashing light. "Shannon Rutherford." Might was well make this professional.
"Where is Boone? I want to speak to him." Sabrina demanded.
"He's busy, Sabrina." Shannon told her the same thing Margie had, she'd peeked into the kitchen when she'd gotten back to the office and seen him whisking away at something in a large bowl at his workstation.
"I'm sure he's not too busy for me. I should be able to speak to him anytime I choose; I'm his mother, and I insist on talking to him immediately." She announced perfunctorily.
Yeah, and I'm his wife, and his sister, and his business partner and his best friend, Shannon thought to herself, and I don't even disturb him in his kitchen. She kept from saying any of that of course, the business side of her not wanting to piss Sabrina off any more than she already was. There were a lot of potential contracts that could come their way from Carlyle Enterprises.
Shannon explained about her rule and started again to apologize when she suddenly sensed Boone's approach. "Hang on a sec, Sabrina, I think he's coming down the hall right now and might be available." She pushed the hold button, as he came in her office, flopped down into one of the guest chairs in front of her desk, and closed his eyes. "Your mother's on the phone," she told him in a tentative voice.
He winced, "Awww fuck." Opening his eyes again, Boone leaned forward and held his hand out for the receiver.
Shannon listened to his side of the conversation, watching his reactions carefully; ready to take the phone away from him if it looked like his mother was turning malicious and starting to upset him. He'd been in an uncommonly consistent happy mood since their return from Aspen, and she didn't want anything to ruin that for him. The joy he derived from food preparation seemed to keep his chronic depression at bay better than any psychotherapy or meds ever had.
She observed as he went from apologetic to defensive, his posture starting to slouch. She was just about to terminate the call when he straightened in the chair suddenly appearing angry. Shannon wondered if Sabrina had started to say nasty things about her, her suspicion confirmed at his next words.
"No mother, I have not lost my mind, again. I know she has no experience, but how's she supposed to get any if someone doesn't give her a chance. And besides, she's doing an excellent job, I'm really proud of her, you might even be too." He paused, obviously listening. "Yeah, I'll get right on that, I'll send her a memo to fire herself, that should go over well." He tipped his head back, and pinched his eyes closed in frustration. "Fine then, you come here, but not on a personal level, what I choose to do is none of your concern. You can come here strictly on business," he spat. "You're a client now and entitled to see the place if you want. Shannon will give you a tour, but you'd better be professional, this turns personal and you'll be out the front door," he warned. He didn't care how much business he might be losing with those words, it had been a long day and he'd had enough of her just then.
Shannon's eyes widened at the thought of being alone with Sabrina as she showed her around. She started shaking her head at him, a motion he couldn't see, given his posture and closed eyes.
"I don't care if you don't like my tone, this conversation is over." He informed her. "We'll expect you on Friday at 11:30. I'll have Kevin make us some lunch…no scratch that, I'll make it myself, and after Shannon gives you the tour we can have lunch together."
Shannon started shaking her head even more vigorously, then sent a resoundingly panicked 'NO' a little too forcefully into his head.
The word hit him with the force of a small explosive device detonating in his brain and he rocked back hard enough into the chair to send it teetering on its' rear legs for a second, then toppling it slowly backwards with a crash. To add insult to injury, his head bounced painfully on the thin industrial carpet that covered the floor. The coiled cord that connected the receiver to the phone pulled taut for a second, then the device flew off her desk and bounced against the upholstered bottom of the chair. Shannon stared in shock for a second at the soles of his shoes then jumped up and ran to him.
Amazingly enough he still had the handset pressed to his left ear. "I have to go mother," he concluded the conversation, transferred the receiver to his right hand and, opening his tear and pain filled eyes, tossed it up to her.
She caught it, bent to hang it up, and returned the entire unit to its' place on her desktop, while Boone threw his legs back over his head, rolled over his shoulder so he could kneel then rose to his feet a bit shakily.
In the outer office, Margie had heard the noise and wondered if this was one of the times that Boone would need the first aid kit, or if he'd broken something again, and she should bring the broom and dust pan. Given that it sounded more like a thud than a crash, she opted for the first aid kit and went to get it.
Boone pressed the heel of his right hand to his temple and turned on Shannon. "What the fuck was that for? Jesus Christ, Shannon, I think you gave me an aneurysm!"
"God, Boone, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean it to be so loud, I'm really sorry." Her words were met with a scowl as he continued to rub at his head. "I just, I don't want to be alone with her, and Friday is Andrew's P.D. day at school, so he's off, and you told him he could spend it here." She explained, needlessly as it turned out.
"I fucking know that, Shannon," he replied, angrily. "I asked her for Friday because he's off. He can go with you and act as a buffer when you show her around. I know you don't want to be alone with her. And he'll want to come for lunch too. He doesn't like it when I meet with her and he's not there. He knows just as well as you do what effect she can have on to me."
"Oh." She said in a small voice. "Sorry?"
Margie showed up at the office door with the red nylon first aid bag in her hand. When she saw that Boone had his hand up to his head, she unzipped it and dug around for a band-aid, thinking he'd cut himself.
"Unless you've got something in there that can keep the brain matter from oozing out of my ears, I'll just take a bottle of aspirin." He took the container, muttering his thanks, and went to the door. "I'm going to my office to take several dozen of these and lie down for half an hour until I have to pick Andrew up at school. Then I'm going home, and I'll probably lie down there too. Fuck Shan, cut me some slack, sometimes I actually do know what I'm doing."
"I'm sorry," she called again, as they heard his footsteps retreat down the hall.