by Hart, Renee
“That makes sense,” Shea said. He wrote some more notes, a thoughtful look on his face. “What else?”
“The order we do some things,” Jane said. She pulled a few boxes out of her bin. “See, these are all sorted by date, right? First in, first out. Because they want to finish the oldest orders first.”
“Well, that's how it should be,” Shea said. “I mean, whoever placed an order first should get it first.”
“But you use different methods to make a lot of different products,” Jane said, gesturing across the factory floor to the workers at the other stations. “And sometimes it can be way faster and more efficient to group together anything that goes through the same process, rather than doing it by date. I can do a few dozen of these all in a row, real quick like, because they all use the same tools. But going by date, I might do six or seven, then have to stop and work on...” She dug through her bin, pulling a box off one of the middle shelves. “...like, okay, this here? This cast was made with impression foam. I have to use completely different methods and different tools to prep this than I do with plaster. It would make more sense to do all the plaster molds first, then all the foam ones. Sure, maybe someone who ordered their orthotic made from this foam mold,” she tossed it back into the bin, “might end up waiting an extra day, but grand total, production would run smoother and everything would get done quicker. Especially since by the time it goes through production, then assembly, then packing and shipping, what order I did things in probably doesn't hurt the turnaround time. But it does hurt productivity.”
“That's an interesting way of looking at this,” Shea said. He looked around at some of the tools on her workbench, picking a few up and examining them. It was clear to her that he didn't have a clue what any of it was used for.
“I like what I'm hearing,” Shea said. “I'd like to hear more of your ideas.”
“Well, okay.”
Jane kept the ideas pouring out until it was time to break for lunch. Shea had actually listened to her in a way no one from management ever had. It left her feeling good, feeling like maybe she was something more than just an underpaid factory worker. Though she also knew it wasn't likely that she would get a raise or anything, even if Shea ended up implementing the ideas she had provided. For all she knew, he would simply take credit for the whole thing.
That train of thought started to sour her good mood. But she tried to keep the disappointment off her face.
“Thank you for your help,” Shea said, shaking her hand. “I really appreciate your insights into this.”
“No problem,” she said. She thought about asking him if her contribution would earn her anything more than a pat on the back, but she wasn't sure how to bring such a thing up without sounding crass.
After Shea left, Jane went about the rest of her workday as normal. Reality slowly settled in as she continued through the grind, hour after hour. She didn't expect that any of her ideas would actually be implemented. Nor did she think she could look forward to any reward.
By the time she left for home at the end of the day, she was convinced that she would never hear from Shea Gordon ever again.
Chapter 4
By the Friday before the big company Christmas party, Shea still didn't have a date lined up. He'd called most of his old girlfriends, though considering that most of the girls he'd seen over the last few years had been one night stands, it hadn't been surprising when most of them didn't want to hear from him. Only a few had bothered to return his calls, and none of those calls had gone well.
He sat in his office Friday morning, searching through his contacts list for any remaining prospects. He picked a girl he had dated for a few weeks about three years before. He couldn't remember her last name, and he didn't really remember much about his time dating her except that she had been very quiet and boring. There had been one dinner together where she had barely said two words to him, over a very expensive meal. He did remember her insisting on taking the leftover Peking duck home with her, and it had made him feel like she wasn't interested in him for anything but what he could buy her.
He was desperate, however, so he gave her a call anyway.
He stared out the office windows while the phone rang, trying to remember the girl's last name. His mind was a complete blank. The only reason he remembered her first name was because it was still in his contacts list.
After a few rings, she answered the phone. “Hello? Who is this?”
“Hey,” he said. He blanked for a moment, then pulled his phone away from his ear to check the name on the screen. “Cheryl! Hi. It's Shea Gordon. How's it going?”
“Shea?” she asked. The tone of her voice made him think she didn't remember him.
“Yeah, we went out a few years ago. Art museum, dinner in the city.” There was a long pause while he waited for her to answer. When she said nothing, he added, “I had the red Porsche. You said it was 'sex on wheels'.”
“Oh,” Cheryl said. “Oh, right. Hi...”
“So, how've you been?” he asked.
“Umm, okay, I guess.” There was another long pause. “Uhh, is there a reason you called?”
“Yeah, actually. I was wondering what you're doing this weekend. If you were free, I mean. The company Christmas party is tomorrow night. It'll be a great time. Free food, free liquor.”
“Oh. Oh boy.” She let out a long sigh. “Shea, I'm sorry but, I'm married.”
“Oh.” Shea frowned. He hadn't been expecting that, though it had been a few years. “Wow. Well, that's great.”
“Yeah. My husband and I are going to see my in-laws this weekend.”
“Wow, okay. Nice. Well, that's great. Good for you.”
Cheryl sighed again. “Goodbye Shea. It was...well, I guess it was nice hearing from you.”
“Yeah, you too. Good luck with the marriage and all that.”
She hung up, thankfully before he could shove his foot any further into his mouth.
Shea set down the phone and hit the buzzer on his desk to call his secretary.
“Yes, Mr. Gordon?” she asked over the speaker phone.
“Emily, do you happen to know any single ladies who might want to be my date to the Christmas party tomorrow night?”
Emily laughed. He wasn't sure if she thought he was joking, or if he was just that pathetic. “Ahh, no, Shea, I'm afraid I don't. Sorry.”
“Yeah, it's okay.” He hit the button to terminate the call, then leaned back in his chair, staring at the ceiling. He didn't know any other women. Not any that he was on good terms with.
A thought occurred to him. Potentially a stupid, foolish, idiotic thought. But he was at the end of his ropes. He'd spent so much time working on his proposal for the company restructuring that he hadn't had time to search for a woman to play the part of his faux-fiance. He needed someone smart, someone who could think on her feet. Someone he hoped he had a certain rapport with.
He hit the buzzer to call his secretary again.
“Yes, Mr. Gordon?” Emily asked.
“Emily, get me the employee phone directory for the Philadelphia factory.”
“The factory?” Over the speaker, he heard her typing something into her computer. “Do you want the listing for the manager's office?”
“No,” Shea said. “Phone numbers for the factory floor. Give me the number for Jane Decker.”
Chapter 5
Jane was washing up at the end of her lunch break when Harold called for her over the factory's loudspeaker.
“Decker, you have a call on line two. Decker, line two.”
She looked up at the speaker in the bathroom ceiling, wondering who could possibly be calling her at work. She never got calls at work. Her mother or her sister would know not to call until after six, and they'd call her cell phone, not the factory line. The only other phone calls she ever got were from her credit card companies, and they didn't have her work number.
She headed for the main office, right next to Harold's office, and picked up
one of the phones mounted on the wall. She leaned against the wall and said, “Hello?”
“Miss Decker? It's Shea Gordon.”
Jane's heart immediately began to race. She could only imagine she was in some kind of trouble. Unless, somehow, Shea was calling her to ask her more questions about her ideas for improving the company. Which was...possible, she admitted, but highly unlikely.
“Yes?” she asked.
“I was wondering if I could speak with you tonight, after you get done working,” Shea said. “It's a...well, it's a somewhat personal matter.”
“A personal matter?” Jane frowned, trying to figure out what a vice president could want with her that was “personal.”
“Well, not entirely,” Shea said. “It's business. Sort of.”
“Sort of?”
“Consider it a business proposal. You seem like a bright, energetic young woman. I've been impressed with what I've seen of you so far. And I'd like to discuss an...opportunity with you.”
“What sort of opportunity?” Jane asked. She started to feel the rush of excitement. Was he calling to offer her a promotion? A transfer off the factory floor?
“I'd rather discuss that in person,” he said. “Can we meet for dinner? To talk business, that is.”
“I...well...sure.” Jane smiled, thinking that just maybe, this was finally her big break. Even though, deep down, she knew she wasn't quite qualified for any kind of promotion. She didn't even have her degree yet. Though she knew she was bright enough to do a lot more than work on the factory floor.
“I can send a car,” Shea said. “Say, seven o'clock? Dress casual.”
“Yeah, seven sounds great. I...I'll see you then. And, Mr. Gordon, thank you. Thank you so much.”
“Think nothing of it. And please, call me Shea.”
She gave him her home address and her cell phone number, then she wandered back to her work station. Her head was spinning as she considered the possibilities. She'd been busting her ass for years, and now it finally seemed like it could be her big break.
At the end of her shift, she headed straight home, showered, and changed into a midnight blue dress and heels. Shea had told her to “dress casual,” but she didn't want to meet with a vice president looking like a slob. Besides, she knew that showing off her assets never hurt her chances where men were concerned. Not that she would ever consider something like sleeping with him for a promotion. Not on her life. But showing a little skin would, at the very least, improve a man's mood and make him more amenable to her.
A luxury black sedan arrived at her apartment a little before seven o'clock. The driver held the door open for her, and even tipped his hat to her as she got into the car. She looked around the luxurious interior, feeling a bit jealous. The back of the car was nicer than her apartment. It even had a little fridge stocked with some expensive liquor. But she decided not to partake. It probably wouldn't be professional to show up at the dinner buzzed on expensive hooch.
Shea was waiting for her outside the restaurant when she arrived. She felt under-dressed as soon as she saw him. He had traded in the expensive tailored suit for what looked like an equally expensive outfit of black slacks, a light gray sweater, and a fitted blazer. Just one article of his clothing probably cost more than she made in a week.
“Miss Decker,” he said, offering her his arm. “I'm glad you could make it, especially on such short notice.”
“Thank you for inviting me,” she said, taking his arm.
He led her inside the restaurant that had been tastefully decorated for the holidays. When they got to the table, he helped her with her jacket before handing it to a coat check girl.
He held her chair for her when she sat down, and she felt a bit flushed at all of the attention. For just a moment, she wondered if he had an ulterior motive to asking her out this evening. It almost felt more like a date than a business dinner.
Once they had placed their orders, Shea folded his hands on the tabletop and said, “You're probably wondering why I've asked you here tonight.”
Butterflies started to churn in Jane's stomach. “Well, yes, actually.”
“Allow me to explain.” Shea tapped his fingers together for a moment while he thought over his words. “How much do you know about Gordon Orthopedics' current situation?”
“Situation?” Jane asked. “I'm not sure what you mean.”
“Our financial situation. How the company is doing.”
Jane frowned, toying with her napkin nervously. “Well, I'm not really sure. I mean, I just work in the factory...”
“I'm sure you have some idea of how things are going,” Shea said. “You're a perceptive woman.”
“Well,” Jane said. “I know there have been some layoffs lately. And a lot of us have been worried that there might be more coming. Is that...is that what this is about?”
“In a manner of speaking.”
The waiter arrived with a bottle of wine and poured them each a glass. Shea took a sip from his, then continued.
“To be perfectly frank, the company isn't doing well. Sales have been dropping for years, and we haven't been able to keep up with the times. At the rate things are going, we aren't going to survive, as a company, unless something drastic is done.”
Jane pressed her lips together in a thin line. “That...that's pretty scary, actually. Is there...I mean, I'm not sure how I can help with that.”
“I'll get to that.” Shea flashed her a charming smile. “First, you should know about what I'm working on right now. The inspection of your factory was just one of over a dozen I've done in the last few weeks. I've been visiting a variety of facilities, from production to distribution to sales, and studying everything I can about our operations, from the ground up. There are a lot of changes to be made, and I think I can turn us around. It won't be without risk, but I'm working on a five year plan, starting with some serious shakeups over the first six months of the new year.”
“Shakeups?” Jane asked. “What kind of shakeups?”
“Like the things we discussed the other day. Rethinking the way we do business. Streamlining efficiency. Cutting costs. Maximizing our output. And making Gordon Orthopedics more appealing to the big insurance companies and hospitals who make the decisions these days on what supplier to use.”
“That...sounds good,” Jane said, a slight frown on her face. All of this was quite a bit above her experience or pay grade, and she still wasn't sure why a vice president wanted her help with such things.
“There's just a couple of problems with my plan,” Shea said.
Jane folded her hands, waiting patiently to hear the rest.
“For starters, I've got to convince my grandfather, the CEO, that my vision for the company is the best one.”
“He doesn't like your ideas?”
“He doesn't like how I do things,” Shea said. “Our relationship has always been a complicated one. He has never seen me as someone who can play the long game. Someone who can look to the future, who can commit. I'm working on changing that, on showing him that I can be the one to take this company into the future, but it's about more than just my ideas and proposals. It's about how he views me. As a person, as an executive, and as his grandson.”
“Okay...” Jane took another sip of her wine, feeling a bit overwhelmed by all of this.
“There's another VP in the running to take over the company. And the way he does things, it would be a disaster for people working on the ground level. I've gotten a peek at some of the plans he's proposing. They involve slashing thirty percent of our workers and condensing operations in order to cut costs.”
“Holy crap.” Jane's eyes widened. “You mean, we could all get laid off?”
“Thousands of people would lose their jobs,” Shea said, nodding. “I don't like that. I don't agree with throwing people to the curb just to make the company more money. That's why I want other ways to cut costs. Like the ideas we've been talking about.”
Jane touched her fi
ngers to her lips. Her stomach was churning and a light sweat had broken out on her face. She had been worried about losing her job before this, but now it was even worse, with a vice president sitting across from her and telling her that she really was at risk.
“The other risk,” Shea said, “is that my grandfather might sell the whole company, instead of handing it off to me.”
“He'd really do that?” Jane frowned and shook her head.
“I'm afraid so. If he does, the company would be absorbed by a larger corporation. And while it would help the company as a whole survive, there would still be major layoffs. The company that has made him an offer already has their own factory in the Philadelphia area. Everyone at your factory would be sure to lose their jobs.”
Jane's lips started to tremble. She hoped there was some good news coming, because all she could think about was her student loans and her car payment and her credit card debt, all of which would collapse on top of her if she lost her job. She was barely scraping by as it was, and she spent more money each month on payments on her debt than she did on feeding herself.
“Can you convince him not to sell?” Jane asked.
“I'm trying to. But like I said, I need to do more than just offer a winning proposal. I need to paint a new image. Show him that I'm the Shea Gordon who makes plans and gets things done. The Shea Gordon who sees the future and reaches out to grab it, instead of letting it slip through my fingers.”
“Okay,” Jane said. “I just...I don't see what that has to do with me.”
“Well,” Shea said, taking a deep breath. “I need you to be my fiance.”
Jane blinked. She stared at Shea. Then she laughed and shook her head.
“You're kidding, right?”
“It would only be for show,” Shea said. “I wouldn't expect anything out of you beyond a few public appearances. Put on a nice dress, get your hair done, and hang on my arm at the company Christmas party. And maybe at a few other events throughout the end of the year. I'm making my proposal on Monday, but the old man won't be revealing his decision until New Year's. So I've got to keep a good show going until then.”
