Chapter 4
March 2010 – 14 years later
Cleo had decided very early on that if she were to get ahead in the world, she needed to know about ‘marketing’. This being thoroughly intermeshed with ‘business’ meant that her night classes had been chosen with the view of selling a product, any product, herself included. This line of thought had also led her to ‘psychology’ because if she understood how minds worked, she would be more apt at manipulating them.
She had been lucky. One thing had led to another and she had found herself delving into her fertile imagination and successfully marrying it with her education. Nearly fifteen years after she had taken her first course, she found herself as director of her own marketing and advertising agency. At thirty two, she was a recognised force in the business. She hadn’t been the first to do it – leave the company where she had last worked, taking clients with her. She wouldn’t be the last, which is why she kept a tight rein over anyone working for her. History was always repeating itself and she didn’t want to lose her clients in the same way. There was actually little chance of that happening because, although she was considered ‘cold’— a woman made of steel – she was equally efficient, bordering on brilliant. It was thought that her unemotional approach and analysis of a situation accounted for the more than satisfactory results in any campaign her company handled. Besides, she made sure she was the only one who had any durable contact with the clients.
As cold as she might be, as uninviting as her personality might seem, she had understood early in her climb in the business world that an attractive physical appearance was primordial. She first got a client’s attention by her personal presentation and by her language. She had made a concentrated effort to speak with a ‘BBC accent’ which gave the impression she had come from a better social class than she really had. In Britain, as soon as anyone opened his or her mouth, he or she was classed. Everyone did it, regardless of their own station in life. It was an automatic determining of ‘who’s who’. So, once Cleo had got a client’s attention with her looks and ‘class’, she kept them with her strategies. She had come a long way from that mousy Mary Murphy who had done her best not to draw attention to herself.
She was five foot seven, slender but with full breasts. It hadn’t taken her long to realise that those breasts, which had initially caused her embarrassment, were actually an asset if used wisely. Her dull brown hair had come alive in a rich, dark brown tint that had also added lustre. Although her skin was fair with a tendency to freckle if she got too much sun, she exuded an air of good health and clean living. She wasn’t beautiful but once one had looked into her hazel eyes with their long dark lashes, glanced at her lush mouth with its pink lips, one was unconsciously seduced. Perhaps her stand-offishness was seen as a challenge. Who would be the one to succeed in breaching her defences? Such thoughts became vain conjecture as time moved on, because it had never happened. She did not mix business with pleasure – ever.
-oOo-
The person who might be considered the closest to Cleo, was her personal assistant, Amanda Wade. She was a young woman in her late twenties with all the secretarial skills and experience that Cleo had required but it had been her chirpy, out-going personality which had cinched her position as her P.A. She was personable too. Medium height and shapely with mahogany coloured hair and blue eyes, she epitomized the general public’s idea of the trendy young woman who got ahead in life, as so often seen in TV commercials. Cleo had needed someone who would give a warm welcome to clients to counter-balance her own lack of overt enthusiasm because she would never resort to that synthetic, false camaraderie that Americans used with their clients. She was more than happy to hide behind that ‘good old British phlegm’.
Amanda had worked well and after a couple of years was comfortably ensconced in the company with Cleo, who had come to depend on her considerably. However, for all her efficiency, Amanda was no wiser about Cleo’s personal life than she had been on her first day. Once she was away from the office, for all intents and purposes, Cleo ceased to exist. Amanda had never dared overstep her position as an employee and ask any questions. She had been aware from the start that she was in an environment where one never spoke about anything personal unless one was spoken to first. Besides, it was only curiosity that sparked any interest she might have because in any circumstances, she had a hard time relating to her boss. What the hell. If the working relationship worked well without sharing confidences, why rock the boat? Anyway, she had too much going on in her own life to worry about her boss’…