“Jeez.” McReynolds whistled.”That is terrible. And you wanted to go to work for this woman? What a bitch! You’ve got to figure Picard is banging her. You know, wealthy chairman of conglomerate takes on hot ingénue. Look what she did to his old pal Camden.”
“I was really floored. I couldn’t sleep that night. Called up Tribe the next day to see if there was still a spot for me there.”
“And?”
“They said maybe in a few months. They’ve had some cutbacks. And then I talked to Riley, and he wasn’t too encouraging.”
“Who’s Riley?”
“My old boss. He’s real sick and isn’t coming back to SUE. Lane talked to him before hiring me. He told me he said I was a great guy and all that, but she never mentioned she was looking for someone, and that he wouldn’t have recommended to me that I take the job. Then he says there’s another bed in his room and he’ll expect to see me soon. And then everyone at work, my old friends, they wish me well and all that but are avoiding me. I don’t like it. I’m starting to believe she is the bitch everybody makes her out to be.” He paused, then smiled.”In fact, were it not for a bet you and I made just after Sasha split, about this vocabularic rut you’d fallen into…”
“I know, I know,” McReynolds interrupted, waving his hand.”I did call Sash that a few too many times.”
“I’d drop the C word on her in a second.” He paused.”But that would cost me $100 American, and you ain’t gonna get it, birdboy.”
“Well, I wish you luck.”
“Easy for you to say. If it wasn’t…”
“Please, say no more,” McReynolds interrupted again.”This interview is over.”
Stonetree said his good-byes and went directly back to the Plaza to get back to work. He called Sharon to tell her she’d been right, and she agreed. She asked if he wanted to get together that night as they hadn’t seen each other since returning from England, but he declined. Strangely, she didn’t question his explanation or his motives, only saying I miss you before hanging up.
He thought to change his mind and call her back, but did neither. Too much work and not enough time.
CHAPTER 7
The following days confirmed Stonetree’s apprehension that things would get worse before they got better. Despite the fact that Lane was averaging only two days out of five in the office, her presence was always felt, her eye for flaws always hovering somewhere over his left shoulder. In the previous week he’d logged a total of 52 hours at the Plaza and that didn’t take into account the time spent at home poring over reports.
The largest block was devoted to discovering ways to cut expenses in Pharmaceuticals and his preliminary findings weren’t encouraging. During the previous year Lane had trimmed expenses to a minimum and he was having a difficult time locating any areas where costs could be whittled down further.
Travel had virtually been eliminated except for officers and the few managers who were required to transact much of their work out of town. Spoilage and waste were drastically curtailed, from multiple batches of capsules shipped free to doctors to the reuse of packing crates. The division payroll was decreased by an astonishing 12% with some employees now handling the tasks that were previously the province of two or three. The free coffee was gone.
Receptionists or secretaries now conducted short tours of Pharmaceuticals rather than the blue-and-white-clad, saccharin Suezettes. Stonetree missed them, along with eating, sleeping and watching television. He had difficulty remembering what it was like to have four or five hours to himself every night, not to mention Saturdays and Sundays. He never had time to run anymore or play an occasional game of racquetball at the health club and this lack of exercise, along with a growing junk food habit, made him feel sluggish and sometimes dizzy.
Maybe he had a brain tumor, but didn’t have the time or inclination to go to a doctor. He no longer read anything except SUE material and his eyes were so tired when he finally called it quits for the night that he couldn’t bear to even check in on Pinkie for a shot of NewsGlance. He couldn’t work with the stereo on so music virtually disappeared from his life.
He’d went to Sirius only once after Lane Days began, where he and Tyler tried to figure out how to raise a quick $250,000 to help in the purchase of the Mustang and be done with it.
Although they still talked on the phone each day, he’d seen Sharon only three times since their return from England. The first was for lunch when they both had two hours of time away from their respective grinds and they’d had a pleasant time, even a romantic one. She looked good, sounded good, smelt good. They’d sat in an open cafe on a wonderful spring afternoon, holding hands and reminiscing about their trip, then walked through the streets for an hour with no destination in mind, just as they had in London. Meetings for both of them, however, curtailed any plans for an equally enjoyable night.
The second time, he spent the night at Sharon’s apartment, she promising a wonderful evening if he could just give her six straight hours of his undivided attention. The meal was excellent - steamed oysters and some Chinese dish she’d dreamed up that Stonetree loved, topped off with key lime pie.
They ripped through the bottle of Chardonnay he bought for the occasion before finishing the oysters and emptied another bottle before dessert made its appearance. They skipped the cleanup for a trip to the bedroom where they made love melodramatically, falling asleep after being unable to decide who should get up to get the pie. Total elapsed time from greeting to unconsciousness clocked in at three hours and ten minutes.
Their final encounter was the previous Saturday when they met for an argument at the deli near the store. Sharon and Becky were thinking about buying out their third partner then opening a second shop eight miles away. He’d examined the plan they drew up and voiced a criticism regarding just about every point. She wasn’t pleased with his observations and told him so.
He was ticked about the amount of time and money the proposal would demand and suggested she didn’t know the difference between staying afloat and getting in over her head, and she’d responded that at least her head wouldn’t float like that of his last girlfriend. Stonetree retorted that Bonnie at least had the sense to pay attention to people who had expertise in given areas, so she brought the conversation to an end by noting she could at least count to 20 without using her fingers and toes, had an IQ greater than her weight and thought he should stop taking obnoxious pills. After she huffed out of the place, he sat there for another 15 minutes alone doodling on a napkin and wondering what the problem was.
The early publication of the Journal article caught him by surprise. As he walked toward his office, he was directed by Debbie to “report to the boss on the double.”
Lane motioned him in as she railed at two of her directors on a conference call while refastening a piece of paper she’d evidently torn up, using tape from a dispenser modeled after a high heeled platform, black patent leather pump. She handed him a copy of the Journal, indicating with a single gesture and facial expression that he should go back to his office, review McReynolds’s work then report back for a discussion. If her apparent mood was any indication of the content of the article, the morning wasn’t going to be a pleasant one.
He returned to his desk after grabbing a cup of coffee and a sweet roll from the executive conference area, sitting on the window ledge and turning to the essay “A Shift In Focus At Southern United Enterprises.” So far, so good. Now if Robin would just stay that neutral throughout the piece he’d still have a job at the end of the day. The good news was that the story didn’t begin with a cheesecake depiction of Lane, but the bad news was that the lead picture was of Picard and Paneligan standing in the chairman’s office.
He was surprised to find that aside from a mention in the fifth paragraph, the story didn’t deal with Pharmaceuticals or Media until well into its second third. The entire first portion dwelled mostly on the recent achievements of Paneligan’s Technology, Transportation, and Communications divisions, quoting him
extensively and mentioning the rumor that he was being considered for the presidency of one of SUE’s largest competitors.
The third part of the story was devoted to a scathing attack on Hamilton’s Leasing, World Trade, and Retail operations, essentially stating what many at SUE believed - the only reason he was still around was that he was a college friend and former climbing partner of Picard’s who, by the CEO’s admission, had saved him from certain death when he’d fallen from a fractured ledge during a particularly dangerous ascent in the Andes.
The middle portion, which he read twice, was devoted to Media and Pharmaceuticals. All in all, he assured himself, it could have been much worse. Lane was portrayed as a competent and courageous administrator who was still in top form. McReynolds lingered on some negatives, including the sales of Court Records’ second string artists and the loss of prestige that accompanied Dr. Camden’s departure. The phrase used to describe it under a cloud of accusations and half-truths.
McReynolds fell for Camden’s story he believed, but certainly wasn’t the first to take the side of the researcher. He thought too much space was devoted to the erosion of Febrifuge’s market share and the continuing problem of abuse of the drug by Class D carriers. The flap over treatment versus cure was examined in detail and Stonetree felt an impression would be left with the reader that the company was concerned with profits first and human welfare second; not that the inference wasn’t true.
On the other hand, McReynolds waxed enthusiastic about the potential for the future. The new advanced Febrifuge Blue formula was portrayed as being closer to arriving at pharmacies than it actually was and the problems with the 800 and 900 series were glossed over, dismissed as almost irrelevant. Wexford’s next album might rival The Shortened Life and Lane wasn’t beyond working more magic from her comer office. No reference was made to the famous Fortune magazine cover.
On the second page was a small insert of 12 postage stamp-size headshots with accompanying names and titles captioned A Few New Faces to Watch at SUE. In the bot-tom row, third from right, smiled David Stonetree, Director/Corporate Projects. And it wasn’t a bad picture. In fact, he thought modestly, it might be the best he’d ever taken. He was one of the oldest of his 11 costars, except for a guy from World Trade and a woman from Retail, both of whom he’d seen before but didn’t know. Aside from Kevin McCormack, a new VP in Transportation, he was the only white male in the grouping.
He returned to Lane’s office, only to find her on the phone again. This time he seated himself on one of the couches and waited for her conversation to end, which it did abruptly.
“I really do not know who these men think they’re talking to,” she said as she stood from behind the desk.”Their secretaries? Their wives? Their sisters? They’re going to have to turn off the testosterone channel before they end up with a service denied message.”
She tossed a tablet to one side of the desk and frowned, flipped back her hair with a brush of her hand and a snap of her head, then joined him, perching on one of the arms of the couch and earnestly regarded him for a moment, a slight pout on her lips.
“So tell me what you think of Mr. McReynolds’s efforts,” she said in a measured tone, moving her hands up and down as if they were the cups of a hanging scale.”Comments, criticisms, observations?”
He looked to her for an indication of what she wanted to hear, but couldn’t find one.”Well,” he offered, taking a deep breath, “I think overall that it was, uh...’’ He hesitated, searching for an appropriately neutral adjective.”Balanced. It lacked some depth and could have done better in the clarity department, but it was balanced.”
“David, we are discussing an article in The Wall Street Journal, not Wine and Spirits. This is commerce we’re talking about, not cabernet.” He swallowed hard and stared at her. She is really sexy was all he could pull from his thoughts as she made the scale motion again, showing she thought the pluses equaled the minuses.
“But you know, I think you’re right.” She smiled as she moved to the cushions.”I was a little aggravated by the harping he did about Camden, but aside from that, I think he gave us a pretty fair shake. I didn’t realize Paneligan was in such big demand. Good for him.”
He was relieved but couldn’t decide if she was sincere in her praise of her fellow GVP.
“God knows we’ve had a lot worse done to us before. Robin could have really screwed us if he put his mind to it. You must have done a good job on him. Thank you. I knew you would.” She paused.”And I liked that picture of you. Very flattering. The young ladies are going to be paying more attention to you. You’d better get used to it.” She winked.
“I liked that one of you too.”
“A little less controversial than some of my previous portrayals. This time we took the pictures and we made the prints. No fuss, no muss. I’ll never let something like that get out of my control again.”
They chatted a few more minutes about the article and about the progress on the expense audit. She didn’t appear excited about his preliminary report but she seemed too satisfied with the outcome of the Journal essay to care much, at least at that moment. She was returning to Houston for the third time since he’d started working for her and was caught up in various details that needed attention before her departure.
She asked him how he felt about the job so far and he lied. In fact, had it not been for the publication of the story, he probably would have ended the conversation by admitting the job was more than he could manage. Instead of a confession though, he listened to her frank, concise praise of his efforts thus far.
“I know you’ve been spending a good deal of time here at the office,” she said as he felt the end of the conversation approaching.”I know it can be a hassle to be here late or decide at 9:00 in the evening you want to come in and tie down a few loose ends before a meeting the next morning.” A vacation, he hoped. Maybe a day off.”So I talked to Pierre and he signed off on you getting a fingiris.”
Fingiris clearance was reserved for the officers and a few selected directors only. It allowed entrance into the Plaza through two side exits and a rear exit at night and on weekends, avoiding the complications of the security procedures that were in effect throughout the building between 6:00 p.m. and 6:00 a.m. during the week and all day Saturday and Sunday.
“It’s the least I can do to make your job a little easier,” she said sincerely as she stood and returned to her desk.
Very generous of you, he thought as he left. At least she’ll be gone before noon, and at least I’ll have a day and a half to stop the backward slide. Maybe he’d discuss his true feelings with her the following Monday when she was back in town.
Returning from a quick lunch that afternoon, he checked his messages and was delighted to learn McReynolds had called. He phoned back and caught him just returning from a run, still panting a bit but sounding pleased with himself.
“Yeah, I did about six miles. Stopped for a minute and called you. I figured you’d be at lunch but wanted to… ran all the way back. How’d you like it?”
“I got a kick out of it and was really a relief. I’ve got to admit I was worried.”
“I told you you were in good hands,” Robin chided.”Just like at Allstate. You knew I’d come through for you. Now, was there really anything to worry about?”
“I guess not. But I’m still relieved. And thanks for the picture.”
“Don’t thank me, buddy. I picked up some nice cash for the three pictures of mine they used. How’d boss lady like it?”
“She wasn’t thrilled but thought it was reasonable.”
“Shit. What does she want? A testimonial? Tell her to take out an ad in the newspaper. She still working you hard?”
“Sure is.”
“Still thinking about bailing?”
“Sure am.”
“Well good,” McReynolds continued, his voice taking on a more serious tone.”How would you like to get together this afternoon to discuss your future in the ind
ustry?”
“How do you mean?’’
“I’ve got someone I want you to meet. He might be able to help you out, at least as far as SUE goes.”
“Who? How would he help me?”
“He might be able to help all of us out. You gonna have an hour or so? Hurry up, I’ve got some stuff I have to do.”
“Give me a little more information, huh?”
“Hey, I didn’t steer you wrong about the article and you can trust me on this too. What’s the big deal? I’ve got to protect my sources.”
“Okay, okay. I know, you told me. Just a little cranked up today, that’s all. Where and when?”
“I’ll meet you in the lobby of the Hyatt at, say, 4:00”
“Four? How about 6:00?”
“Let’s compromise. Make it 5:00. In the lobby. See you there. I’ll be the one with the trench coat and stupid expression.”
“See you then.”
Stonetree puzzled over the conversation for a moment but then placed it in the back of his mind so he could devote his undivided attention to the picture of himself in the Journal, perhaps his first and last.
At 5:15 he walked into the lobby of the Hyatt and found McReynolds seated near the concierge desk.
“Sorry I’m late. Did I miss anything?”
“I thought maybe you’d changed your mind.”
“Got stuck on a phone call. So where’s the mystery person?”
“Upstairs.”
“They work here? Or are they staying here?”
“He is staying here. Let’s go.”
As they rode to the eighth floor, Stonetree asked three times in different ways who it was he was about to meet. It wasn’t one of Robin’s girlfriends and wasn’t anybody he knew, though somebody he knew of and should keep an open mind.
“I don’t like this open-minded shit,” he groaned as they walked to Room 818.”That sounds a little weird to me. I mean, this isn’t going to be kinky, is it? I don’t want to have my picture taken with some transvestite midget you set yourself up with.”
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