She would have to break the news to him that she couldn’t do the reality show for this season after all, he would understand wouldn’t he? Her mother was in a coma, of course he would understand, she decided and went to get ready.
*
The boardroom at the Pajaro headquarters was full when Grace arrived, with Carlotta already sitting at the head of the table.
When Violetta walked in last she felt all eyes turn in her direction. She was glad she had dressed for the occasion. She wanted to send the message she was in control during this turmoil and had spent a long time choosing her outfit, a papaya coloured silk shantung Chloe dress with a vintage Yves Saint Laurent tuxedo jacket that was nipped in at her tiny waist. Black patent leather Jimmy Choo sling backs and a Lanvin tote bag added a sense of conservatism but Violetta had added strings of pearls, real and faux, around her long neck and with her tawny hair pulled up, she looked like a fabulous New York socialite with not a care in the world.
Carlotta had tried to dress up also, Violetta noticed. Black skinny pants and white shirt tucked in. Black flat shoes that looked new, and no accessories besides her Hermes Cape Cod wristwatch with a brown leather strap, her auburn hair flowing down her back. Violetta stopped herself from reaching for it, playing with it as she had always done when she was nervous as a child, when Leon and Birdie were fighting downstairs. She used to plait it, receiving instructions from the dressage books that Carlotta had, doing intricate plaits like the ones Carlotta did on her horses’ tails and manes.
Grace had stalked into the impressive Pajaro headquarters wearing her Fendi sunglasses. She had quelled the nausea in the cab on the way over but now she felt a thumping headache building in her dehydrated head. She had dressed in black from head to toe. Today was not a time for colour; colour was for celebrating. Besides, there was no way she could have put together a clever outfit for today. Her black Donna Karan suit that she wore for appraisals would have to do, with black stockings and her black Prada bag. Her hair was in a ponytail; and she had avoided makeup after her shaking hand had spilled the bottle of Chanel Number Five that she had been using to cover the alcohol fumes that seemed to seep from her pores.
She slipped two Tylenol under her tongue and sipped carefully from the water glass in front of her. She felt her sisters’ eyes on her but refused to meet their gaze. There was nothing wrong with having a drink when things were tough, she reasoned. Violetta was always out, drinking, probably doing drugs. Grace was proud she had never taken drugs, not even in college where they were handed out like vitamins.
‘Feeling a little rough?’ whispered Violetta archly.
Grace resisted the urge to flip her middle finger at her sister, another thing she had never done. She looked around the room. Leon certainly had taste, she thought. The boardroom was on the top floor overlooking the city. Glass covered one wall and huge pieces of art covered the others. Not that Grace had been asked to help with the choice of the pieces. She had offered but Leon had knocked her back, saying he needed a real art consultant not an amateur.
Grace looked with interest at his choices. She knew a few of the pieces; he would have paid top dollar for them, as he did with everything. Money and size were Leon’s benchmarks when it came to art and life. More stores, bigger houses, bigger cars and even the triplets were a pride of his. Although his daughters were disappointing, the mere fact that he had fathered triplets was enough for him to boast about.
‘Shall we get started?’ Spencer asked. ‘I am sure the girls would like to get back to their mother as soon as possible.’
The older gentleman at the far end of the oval wooden table cleared his throat. Violetta remembered him from the few parties that Leon and Birdie had held at the estate over the years for Pajaro staff.
‘Hello to you all. I would like to start by offering our best wishes for Mrs de Santoval’s speedy recovery. We were shocked to find out about her accident and please let us all know if there is anything we can do to help in this difficult time.’ He looked genuinely upset, thought Carlotta, lowering her gaze away from him and the other concerned faces at the table.
‘Thank you,’ said Grace.
‘As you might remember, I am Nicolas Canturi, the Chief Financial Officer at Pajaro.’
The girls nodded their recognition.
‘I have been with Pajaro for the last ten years. I have worked beside your father for all of them. I did not have the privilege of working with your mother when she was a more active part of the company in its early days but I understand she was a formidable and creative woman,’ he said, kindness flooding his voice.
Violetta pushed her fingernails into her hand to take away from the pain in her heart that she felt at Nicolas mentioning her mother. Whatever had happened to that woman that people spoke of so highly? The Birdie she had known was a devoted mother and wife, not this creative powerhouse that Leon had, no doubt, pushed out of the business so he could have total control.
‘I am not sure how much your father has told you about the running of Pajaro,’ Nicolas continued.
‘None, our father liked to separate family and business,’ said Grace tactfully.
‘Well,’ said Nicolas, clearing his throat again. ‘Pajaro is in trouble. The last two years have seen profits down. The dollar is terrible, as you know, and production costs offshore have gone up considerably. Sales are down, Pajaro is no longer the brand it once was, there are imitators and people are cannier with their money. Leon has been losing interest in the company and while we have all tried to maintain sales, it was impossible without Leon’s leadership. As this is a privately owned company, we are an advisory board only and could not possibly take the reins as Pajaro required us to. Leon borrowed an enormous amount of money this year to get Pajaro back on track.’
‘How much money?’ asked Spencer, taking notes in a small leather notebook.
‘$220 million,’ said Nicolas, without having to refer to any notes. He knew the number by heart.
‘So what’s the problem?’ asked Spencer. ‘Pajaro has cash flow now and we can work out a plan to get it back on track.’
Nicolas cleared his throat again, much to Carlotta’s annoyance. ‘The problem is that it’s gone.’
‘Gone, as in spent already?’ asked Spencer.
‘No, gone when Leon disappeared,’ said Nicolas, clearly embarrassed to be giving the women this news.
The girls looked at each other in shock.
‘Do you know where he is?’ he asked the sisters.
Violetta spoke, her voice shaking. ‘The detectives that we spoke to said they thought he had flown somewhere but you would have to speak to them.’