“Actually, I would like you to remain here, Mr. Thompson.”
Where I can keep one eye on you, Kari added silently, despite Mrs. Jensen and Miss Bryant’s confidence in you.
He stopped on the edge of the sewing floor per Kari’s request. With arms folded across his chest, he observed as Kari, followed by Scarlett, began a slow navigation of the machines. The workers glanced at them as they passed but did not stop what they were doing.
Kari paused to watch a dark-haired seamstress. Kari was impressed at how quick and fluid her motions were. When the woman noticed Kari, she paused in her work.
“May I help you?” she shouted.
Kari extended her hand. “I’m Kari Michaels, the owner of Granger Mills.”
The woman squinted at Kari, but she offered her hand in return. “Yolanda Martinez.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Martinez.”
Yolanda eyed Scarlett as she jotted something in her notebook and opened the binder, her finger looking for something.
Kari pointed to a box next to Yolanda’s machine. “May I sit here a moment?”
The woman shrugged, so Kari sat down and leaned toward her. “Ms. Martinez, do you mind my asking how much you make as a seamstress?”
Yolanda cut her eyes toward Thompson. He remained on the edge of the sewing floor as Kari had requested, but his presence was causing Yolanda some distress.
She moved her head in a tiny “no” motion, her eyes still on Thompson.
Kari glanced at Thompson, too. “I hope you will trust me when I say that I will allow no one in this plant to threaten your job or your wage.”
The woman stared down, hands in her lap. Silent.
“Perhaps you could verify the information I already have? Scarlett will read your piece rate and, if it is correct, simply lift your hand. No one will see you do so.”
Kari looked at Scarlett who read from the binder. Almost imperceptibly, Yolanda’s hand twitched.
Kari stood up. “Thank you, Ms. Martinez. And thank you for your service to Granger Mills. Have a good day.”
Kari and Scarlett moved on, greeting workers in what appeared to be a random fashion. However, Kari made certain to introduce herself to both male and female sewers of differing ethnicities. In all, Kari and Scarlett spent two hours on the floor and collected information from thirty-two workers.
“Enough?” Kari asked Scarlett.
“Yes. Every rate matches the printout Miss Bryant provided.”
“Let’s see the rest of the plant, then, shall we?”
They approached Thompson, who unfolded his arms and wordlessly led them out into the hallway.
“Thank you, Mr. Thompson. Would you be so kind as to show us to your office and dial Mr. Baines’ extension?”
Still silent, he showed them into a small office cluttered with stacks of papers. He dialed the extension and handed Kari the receiver.
“Mr. Baines? Kari Michaels here. Yes, ‘the’ Kari Michaels. I’m in Mr. Thompson’s office. Right. Here in the plant. Would you kindly join us? Yes, now. And please do not call anyone or mention that we are here.”
She paused and listened, then added, “That is an order, Mr. Baines, and I assure you that I expect my instructions to be followed.”
Baines showed up minutes later, out of breath and perspiring. Kari shook his hand and introduced herself and Scarlett.
“I would like to visit the textile mill, Mr. Baines, if you would be so kind as to escort us?”
“Of course, Miss Michaels.” He led the way into the hall.
Kari thanked Thompson a final time. As she turned to leave, he whispered, “Watch your back, Miss Michaels.”
It was softly spoken. Kari did not look back but nodded her acknowledgment.
Baines led them down the long hallway and out of the building. They crossed a span of asphalt and entered a larger, taller building. Baines handed Kari and Scarlett hardhats and ear protection before opening the heavy door to the factory.
The mill was a vastly different world, dominated by larger machines, all roaring at differing pitches. Forklifts conveyed packed boxes to pallets and pallets to an adjoining warehouse.
“Stay close to me, please,” Baines instructed. Kari and Scarlett did as they were told. Baines pointed to various machines and called out their functions.
“Here we blend cotton, wool, mohair and, sometimes, synthetic fibers,” Baines shouted. “Our customers range from hotels and hospitality to airlines and the medical field. And of course, for the time being, we mill for our own sewing factory.”
As though he had let something slip, Baines frowned and clamped his mouth shut. Kari nodded and said nothing. It was an effort on her part not to react to the slip. She was relieved when they left the mill floor and entered the relative quiet of the hallway.
Scarlett removed her ear protection. “Whew.”
“Yes,” Kari said.
A voice boomed behind her. Kari had been half expecting it, but it still made her jump.
“Miss Michaels! You really should have let me know you were coming. I would have escorted you myself.” Wade Hancock’s words were jovial, but his expression was not.
“Good morning, Mr. Hancock. This is my associate, Scarlett Brunell.”
“Any relation to good old Oskar?”
Kari answered before Scarlett could. “Yes; Mr. Brunell is her father.”
“I see. Well, you can imagine my chagrin when I heard you were here.”
“And I’m a little surprised at your ‘chagrin,’ Mr. Hancock. Surely you know that I enjoy visiting the plants and factories I own? By the way, how did you hear of our visit?”
Hancock’s gaze shifted involuntarily to Baines and back. “Uh, of course, word travels fast in a large factory like this, Miss Michaels. And please call me Wade.”
“No, thank you. I prefer Mr. Hancock.”
She turned to Baines. “Well, thank you for the insightful tour, Mr. Baines. I believe your job is finished here today.”
She locked eyes with him until he dropped his startled gaze.
“And good day to you also, Mr. Hancock. Thank you for taking the time to greet us.” Kari nodded and started down the hallway toward the exit, Scarlett at her side.
“But Miss Michaels! Shouldn’t we talk?” Hancock’s booming voice resounded in the hallway.
Kari kept walking.
Only Scarlett knew how furious she was.
—
THEY RETURNED TO THE HOTEL IN SILENCE. As they strode across the lobby, Scarlett spotted a poster and offered a suggestion. “Perhaps now would be the perfect time for a massage and a half hour in the sauna?”
Kari groaned. “What a marvelous idea. My neck and shoulders are tied in knots. Even my knots have knots. Does the hotel have a hot tub? Whirlpool?”
“Yup. Do you have a suit with you?”
Kari sighed. “No.”
“Then, right this way!” Scarlett took Kari’s arm and steered her into the hotel’s boutique.
An hour later Kari and Scarlett, coated with scented oil and wrapped in hot towels, lay on side-by-side masseuse tables. Kari groaned as the masseuse revisited her neck, stretching the tense scalene muscles that ran up the side of her neck into her scalp.
“You know what, Scarlett?”
“Mmm?”
“You deserve a big bonus.”
“Ohhh! And I’ll happily accept!”
They laughed, and Kari sighed under the strong, capable fingers of the masseuse.
~~**~~
Chapter 19
KARI SET HER HOTEL ROOM ALARM FOR 6:30—sufficient time to rise in the morning, dress, pray, and make the ten o’clock management meeting. She was startled awake at six by the ring of her room’s telephone.
She fumbled in the dark for the receiver. “Hello?”
“Miss Michaels? This is Emma Jensen. You need to know that Hancock has moved the management meeting up to 8 a.m. I only know because one of the managers called me a minu
te ago to come in early and print out some reports.”
Kari glanced at the clock. “It’s going to be tight, but we can make it, Mrs. Jensen. Anything else?”
“Just that Hancock is furious. He raged around the executive suite yesterday afternoon pointing fingers and breathing fire.”
“Did you escape unscorched?”
“So far.”
“Thank you for your call, Mrs. Jensen. I owe you.”
Kari threw on her robe and padded two doors down the hall to Scarlett’s room. Scarlett answered the door as bleary-eyed as Kari had been, but she roused when Kari delivered the news.
“Shall I reschedule Maurice and meet you downstairs at 7:30?”
“Refresh my mind—the car has a phone in it, doesn’t it?”
“Yes; that’s how we reach Maurice when he’s waiting for us.”
“All right, but make it seven o’clock. We have a stop to make before the meeting. And could you have room service prepare coffee and muffins to go?”
Kari made quick work of her toilet and pulled out her most business-like suit. When she had dressed, applied her makeup, and done her hair, she opened her Bible. There, within the passage in Isaiah she’d opened to, was the confidence she sought.
Do not fear, for I have redeemed you;
I have summoned you by name;
you are mine.
When you pass through the waters,
I will be with you;
and when you pass through the rivers,
they will not sweep over you.
When you walk through the fire,
you will not be burned;
the flames will not set you ablaze.
“Thank you, Lord! So much for fire-breathing, plant-managing V.P.s,” Kari muttered. She left her room with a determined stride.
—
KARI GAVE SCARLETT A MOMENT TO SIP HALF OF HER COFFEE. “I need to be fully prepared for that meeting this morning. Now that we’ve pried our eyes open, I need you to make some calls.”
Scarlett asked for and received the phone from Maurice.
“The cord is a mite short,” he apologized.
“We’ll make do,” Kari answered.
She spoke to Scarlett. “I would like you to call our Mrs. Jensen and get the number for the HR manager.”
Scarlett hung up a minute later. “I have it.”
“Get him on the phone for me?”
Scarlett dialed and handed Kari the bulky phone.
“Mr. Crane? Kari Michaels here. I apologize for calling so early, but I’m pleased that you are in the office. My associate and I will be arriving at the plant shortly. I need you to meet us at the front entrance. Yes, say, 7:25.
“I won’t mince words, Mr. Crane. You are not to mention my call or my arrival to anyone on pain of immediate dismissal.”
Kari listened a moment. “I see. Let me put you on with my attorney, Miss Brunell.”
Kari handed the phone to Scarlett. “Mr. Crane is of the opinion that I don’t have the authority to terminate him.”
Scarlett snorted and took the phone. “Mr. Crane? This is Scarlett Brunell. I wish to remind you that Granger Mills is a wholly owned subsidiary of Granger Limited and that Granger Limited is wholly owned by Kari Thoresen Michaels. Yes, the woman to whom you were speaking.”
Scarlett listened a moment. “Miss Michaels does not require the plant manager or the plant’s management team in order to act, Mr. Crane. She allows a management team to run Granger Mills. I must point out that she is not in any manner subject to the V.P. or management team; rather, they serve at her pleasure.
“As she has given you a direct order, any deviance from her instructions would be deemed gross insubordination and grounds for immediate dismissal.”
She listened again. “Yes, 7:25 at the front entrance. Thank you.”
Scarlett disconnected and took another sip of coffee. “I think Mr. Crane has altered his opinion.”
She handed the phone to a wide-eyed Maurice, who watched them via the rearview mirror. “I apologize for listening in on your conversations, but wow. Guess I’d like t’ be a fly on the wall in that meeting with you, Miss Michaels!”
Kari addressed the dark eyes in the mirror. “The wall may be the only safe place in that meeting, Maurice.”
—
MR. CRANE WAS WAITING AT THE FRONT ENTRANCE AS ASKED. He showed them to his office where Kari gave him instructions and waited for him to complete them.
At exactly 7:58 a.m., Kari strode into the plant’s executive suite with Scarlett and Miss Bryant on her heels. A tense Mrs. Jensen jumped to her feet and walked them down the hall to the conference room.
Kari entered the room and went to the head of the table, Scarlett close to her side; Mrs. Jensen and Miss Bryant waited by the door.
Hancock’s face flushed crimson when he saw Kari, but he managed to stand and sputter, “Good morning, Miss Michaels! Why, we weren’t expecting you, but, of course, we’re delighted you are here. I assure you that this is an informal management meeting; we are merely visiting some options and procedures—”
“Good morning, Mr. Hancock. Please give me your seat.”
“What?”
“Your seat, please. Take the one at the foot of the table.” She waited for him to move, then stood in front of the chair.
Kari looked around. “Good morning, gentlemen.”
She remained standing. Waiting.
The four managers—comptroller, facilities, quality assurance, and Baines, the mill supervisor, shifted uncomfortably until one of them stood. The other three immediately joined him.
“Good morning, Miss Michaels.”
They cut surreptitious glances in Hancock’s direction. He waved them away and sputtered, “Why are you looking at me?”
Kari acted as though she hadn’t noticed their discomfort. “Gentlemen, this is my associate, Miss Brunell. Please sit to my right, Scarlett.”
Kari took her seat. Scarlett sat also and began unpacking her briefcase and placing papers in front of Kari. Hancock and the managers looked at each other and slowly resumed their seats.
Kari turned to Mrs. Blake on her left. “Mrs. Blake, do you have copies of today’s agenda?”
The woman turned to Hancock, who flushed again.
“No,” he said. “There’s no agenda for today’s meeting.”
“Is that true, Mr. Hancock?” Kari glanced at Mrs. Blake again. “Please hand me the papers in front of you.”
“Mrs. Blake,” Hancock interrupted in a rush, “You are excused. We won’t be needing you today.”
“That’s correct, Mrs. Blake,” Kari agreed. “We do not require your services this morning. However, if you value your job, you will leave that stack of papers as you return to your desk.”
Mrs. Blake blanched and hurried to gather her notebook and pen. She placed one hand on the papers and then swallowed and left them where they were.
“Mrs. Jensen, please assume Mrs. Blake’s chair and take notes for this meeting. Miss Bryant, take the chair next to Mrs. Jensen.”
“These women are not invited to this meeting!” Hancock was as close to shouting as Kari would tolerate.
“I. Invited. Them.” She waited for him to go silent.
“Please pass out the agendas, Mrs. Jensen,” Kari ordered.
Hancock was on his feet again. “Now, see here, Miss Michaels! This is my meeting!”
“No, Mr. Hancock.” Kari stood and faced him. “Let me be explicit. This is not your meeting. This is not your management team. Not your conference room, not your building, not your plant, not your factory.”
She placed her hands on the table and met the eyes of each man, ending with Hancock. “This is my meeting.”
Utter silence ticked away.
“Do I make myself clear?” Kari asked softly.
While Hancock stewed, variations of “Yes, ma’am” and “Yes, Miss Michaels” fluttered in the air.
Kari took her seat. “I see the agenda has but
two items, finalization of a contract and board bonuses. Very well, let’s take them in order. Item one: Final edits to the contract with Montoya Textiles.”
She looked around. “Montoya Textiles. Where is that company located, please?”
No one answered, but all the managers cut their eyes toward Hancock.
Kari repeated herself. “I asked where Montoya Textiles is located.”
Hancock shrugged and lifted his chin. “You are likely unaware, but the cost of American worker wages has skyrocketed. In order to keep the plant solvent, we decided to run a pilot program, a limited test. We intend to outsource a portion of the plant’s sewing to workers who are able to provide a more economical product. I’m sure you don’t wish—”
“I asked where Montoya Textiles is located.”
Ted French, the comptroller stuttered, “It-it is in Mexico, ma’am.”
“I see. And how much of the plant’s sewing would this ‘pilot program’ outsource to Mexico?”
No one answered, so Kari looked to her left. “Miss Bryant?”
“Fifty percent, Miss Michaels.”
“The proposed contract would put fifty percent of this plant’s sewing employees out of work?”
No one responded.
“Mr. Hancock, as you are, no doubt, aware, your position description states that no contract of this scope is to be entered into without my consideration and approval.” Kari shrugged. “Very well, I have considered it. I do not give my approval.”
“Now see here! You can’t do that!” Hancock shouted. “We have already made a significant investm—”
“Excuse me, Mr. Hancock. My meeting. Any investment you made without my authority came out of my pocket. Any further questions? Anyone? Next item.”
Kari read aloud. “Item two: Proposal for management bonuses based on cost savings realized in quarter three from pilot program contract.”
She smiled. “Well, that’s a simple one, isn’t it? Since there isn’t going to be a contract with a factory in Mexico, there will be no bonuses. Not for you gentlemen, anyway. The proposal is overturned.”
At the end of the table, Hancock seethed. Baine and the other managers stared anywhere but in Kari’s direction.
Mrs. Jensen scribbled furiously, a tiny smile twitching on her lips.
All God's Promises (A Prairie Heritage Book 7) Page 23
