Eye of the Storm

Chapter

Three

THE COMPANY HEADQUARTERS complex was, in a word, huge.

Dar was on the perimeter road under a hot sun, but the wind provided by her nice shiny Harley more than compensated. She accelerated, enjoying the feel of the large engine under her and the sensation of being exposed to nature, in a way she never got while driving in Miami.

Maybe she’d get a cycle back home. Dar waggled an eyebrow, glancing aside to watch a herd of buffalo thunder past, raising a cloud of dust and sending the scent of warm wool to her nose. Wonder if Kerry would like this? She imagined her lover behind her, holding on as they raced around, and a grin split her face . I bet she would.

The road curved around towards the entrance, and Dar throttled down the cycle, slowing the machine to a rumbling crawl as she came up to the gates. The guard darted out and another joined him as she pulled to a halt and fished in her jacket pocket for her ID badge.

“Hold on.” The man held up a warning hand. His partner stood off and put a hand on his holstered gun.

Dar almost laughed as she unhooked her helmet and pulled it off, shaking her hair loose. “Here,” she handed him the badge, “I’m not a terrorist.”

The man came forward and took the card, giving her a suspicious look before he glanced down at it. Then his attitude changed so fast it was a wonder, Dar thought, that his tie didn’t spin around his head and choke him. He stiffened up and ducked his head at her. “Ma’am,” a hand waved off his partner urgently, “I think they’re expecting you.”

Dar gave him a whole hearted, sexy grin. “I bet they aren’t.” She took her badge back and waited while the gate opened, then gunned the engine cheerfully and swept on by, thoroughly enjoying herself. She pulled up into a spot near the front door and left the helmet perched on the handlebars.

Four steps up, then a small waterfall filled pool, another six steps, then a weird sculpture, another four steps, and she was at the front doors, massive glass portals so perfectly balanced they opened at a touch of her fingertips. She walked in, her boots sounding loud on the marble tile, and let the door whisper shut behind her. The lobby was very quiet, only a small fountain in the corner breaking the stillness, and Dar spent a Eye of the Storm 19

moment merely standing and absorbing it all.

“Hasn’t changed a bit.” Dar shook her head in mild disgust and headed for the elevators, perched behind an imposing guard desk. “Pretentious piece of...”

“Can I help you, ma’am?” The guard’s voice stopped her. “Are you looking for someone?”

Dar walked over and leaned on the counter. “Yeah.” She pulled off her sunglasses and chewed on an earpiece. “Alastair McLean.”

The cool hazel eyes studied her, before scanning a list behind the desk. “Is he expecting you, ma’am?” His voice was pointed on the title.

“Yep.” Dar flipped her badge onto the counter.

Reluctantly, the man took it and put it on the desk, then started typing in something, glancing at the badge as he did so. His hands stopped, and he leaned closer, then looked up at her in evident shock.

Dar smiled. “Not what you expected?”

He slowly handed her the badge back. “No, ma’am, Ms. Roberts, not exactly.” Now the voice was respectful. “You can go on up. You know the way, I guess.”

The dark haired woman smiled, then moved past him to the bank of glass and marble lined elevators, one of which was resting on ground level in all its brassy splendor. Dar entered it and punched the twenty-third floor, then leaned against the wall as the doors slid shut and the car moved upward.

It stopped on fifteen and two men got on, arguing over a Y2K

upgrade on a legacy program Dar remembered writing seven or eight years prior. She listened in amusement as they debated, ignoring the glances they kept giving her.

“If they’d have left that original code in place, Dave, we’d be fine.”

“You tell them that. I tried to tell them that two years ago, but no.

No. They had their heads stuck too far up their butts to go and ask the original coder.” The shorter man shook his head in disgust. “Pansy asses.”

“Well,” the taller man chuckled, as they got out on the twentieth floor, “I don’t know. I’m not sure I’d have the balls to go tell Dar Roberts I’d messed up her code either.”

The doors slid shut and Dar snickered, then eyed her reflection, flicking her dark hair into a semblance of order as the elevator reached its destination and the doors opened.

It was, if anything, even quieter up here than in the lobby. There was soundproofing weave on all the walls and the floors had plush, padded carpeting on them. Dar walked silently through the entryway, lit by sunlight that poured in through the vaulted glass ceilings, and turned down the largest corridor, which had plaques all down its length.

The soft sounds of business could be heard through the wooden doors she passed and she exchanged nods with two other women who passed her. Finally she was at the last set of doors and she grabbed the ornate brass handles and pulled them open.

20 Melissa Good Inside was a large, airy antechamber, roughly circular, with three doors leading off it. In the center was a small fountain and to one side, a huge, laminated wood circular desk presided, with a tall, austere woman seated precisely in the center, her attention focused on a paper.

“Hello, Beatrice.” Dar’s voice broke the quiet.

Startled, the woman glanced up. “Oh I...” Then she turned her head fully. “Well, my God, Paladar Roberts. It’s been forever.” Beatrice laughed and stood up. “Or at least, what…five years?”

“At least,” Dar allowed, walking over and folding her arms over her chest. “You know I hate this place.”

Alastair’s long time assistant cocked her head and smiled, pulling down her half glasses a little. “You show up like that just to tweak him?”

she asked gently. “Bad timing, if it was. Ankow’s really giving it to him in there.”

“I know. That’s why he asked me to show up,” Dar replied. “They still in session?”

“Mmm.” Beatrice nodded her neatly coifed gray head. “He’s trouble, Dar. He wants to get Alastair out.” The older woman folded her hands and sighed. “Have you met him?”

“No.”

“Well, I can’t say I like him much. He’s in his early forties, good looking, sporty type,” Beatrice told her. “Thinks anyone who can remember World War II should be gone and buried. He doesn’t have much patience with what he regards as the old ways.”

“Really.” Dar considered the door to the conference room. “Change for the sake of change gets no one anything but trouble, Beatrice. You know that.”

“Mmm. Well, he’s on a campaign to get the board restructured and remove Alastair. He thinks he has the leverage. You know last quarter’s results weren’t that great.”

“We’re trying to fix that,” Dar replied quietly. “You can’t sell facilities you don’t have.”

“I know that, and you know that. Maybe you should tell Mr. Ankow that.” Beatrice’s dark eyes twinkled. “He took one look at your sixteen year tenure and he wants you out, too.” She gazed at Dar. “You look great for such an old-timer, Paladar.”

A look of wry amusement crossed Dar’s tanned features. “Thanks.”

She walked over and put her hands on the door latches into the conference room. “See ya.”

“Good luck.” Beatrice waved.

Dar paused, hearing the raised voices inside, and took a breath, rousting her more aggressive, darker side up before she worked the handles and pulled the doors open.

KERRY ENTERED THE break room, winding her way around several employees seated at the small tables, most of whom ignored her. She Eye of the Storm 21

went to the hot water dispenser and ran the steaming liquid over her teabag, focusing her ears on the conversations behind her.

“Think they’ll fire us?”

“Nah. They can’t. Sam’ll get them locked up. Just give it a chance.”

“I dunno, Rex. This ain’t no little two bit graphics company coming in here.”

“I heard they just got rid of the last three companies they bought out.

You came in and they handed you a box with your stuff in it.”

Kerry rolled her eyes and dunked her teabag. Not quite. Though she had needed to make some hard decisions on the first of them, where the departments pretty much mirrored the business unit that was acquiring them.

It had been a very lonely moment, that night in a strange hotel room in a tiny corner of North Carolina. She’d sat up for hours, locked in a fierce debate with herself as she tried to come up with some way–any way–to justify not screwing up those people’s lives.

And she couldn’t.

At four a.m., she’d given up and, feeling small and foolish, called Dar. “How can I make decisions like this?” she’d asked her lover.

“Don’t,” Dar had answered, apparently wide awake. “I’ll do it.”

It had been so tempting, Kerry sighed. She’d been exhausted and emotionally drained and every instinct she had was begging her to give in and let Dar take the weight off her shoulders.

But she’d said no. And she’d collected herself, gotten a few hours sleep, and went into the place the next morning to give them their limited options.

“Well,” the company’s director had said, “we thought we were all out. That’s good news.” And he’d smiled at her. “Thanks, Ms. Stuart. It’s sure been a pleasure working with you.”

Kerry put some sweetener in her cup and stirred it.

“Yeah, well they’d better take care of us or I’ll have something to say about it,” a tall, younger man in the corner spoke up in an irritated voice.

“We held up our end of things.”

“You’d better shut up, Alvin,” a woman answered. “Or you’ll end up like Mary.”

An odd silence fell, and Kerry experienced a sudden prickly feeling up and down her spine. Casually, she turned, to find everyone looking at her. She took a sip of her tea. “I didn’t bring any boxes with me, so you can relax.”

It got ten degrees cooler immediately. “You’re from the new company?” someone muttered from the back of the room.

Kerry nodded. “Yep.” She took another sip, feeling the waves of hostility beating against her. “It’s really not that bad.”

“Not from your perspective,” the woman who had last spoken retorted.

“Well, I was in your shoes a couple months ago,” Kerry answered evenly. “So you never know. I got a promotion out of it.” She went out 22 Melissa Good the door and down the hall, but not fast enough to escape the comment that floated after her.

“Yeah? Wonder who she slept with.”

Kerry sighed. “And you know, I can’t even really get mad at that,”

she remarked to the empty hallway. “I hate living a cliché sometimes.”

She slipped back into the conference room and stopped, finding Sam waiting for her. “Oh, I took you up on the offer of coffee.” She lifted her cup and circled the table to the opposite side.

“Great,” the comptroller replied, with a friendly smile. “We’ve got the reports you asked for running. But it’ll take a couple of hours. Listen, you up for an early lunch? There’s a nice spot near here we all go to.”

A tiny, faint warning bell rang in Kerry’s mind’s ear. “Sure.” She pulled out her cell phone. “Let me just check in with the office.” She dialed a number, then waited. “Hey, María.”

“Kerrisita.” María’s warm tones came through the phone at her. “I am glad to hear your voice.”

“Thanks.” Kerry smiled in reflex. “Listen, did the boss call in yet?”

“No. She is in a meeting in Texas,” María told her. “Beatrice tells me it is not a good one.”

“Mmm.” Kerry sighed. “She was afraid of that…yeah...well, things are in process here, but I’m going to step out for lunch so if anyone’s looking for me, have them use my pager, or the cell.”

There was a little silence, then María cleared her throat. “Sí, I will do that, Kerrisita.”

“I shouldn’t be more than an hour or two.”

“Sí.”

“Thanks, María.” Kerry hung up and clipped her phone to her belt.

“Okay. Let’s go.” She glanced up at the tall accountant and found his interesting hazel eyes gazing back at her. His face was nicely proportioned and he had a straight nose and thin, but well formed lips. Not a bad face to have to sit across a lunch table at, she decided.

“Right this way.” Sam gestured towards the door and followed her out, making small talk as they exited the building, and he guided her towards a four door sedan parked nearby. “So, have you been to Vermont before, Ms. Stuart?”

Kerry settled into the passenger seat and buckled the seat belt. “No.

I’m from Michigan, originally, and I’ve spent some time around the northeast.”

“Really?” Sam got behind the wheel and started the car, locking the doors as he pulled out of the parking lot. “Michigan. Hmm. I had a friend that went to school up there. Don’t think I’ve ever been, though. I’m from Oregon, but I moved here when I was just a kid.”

“Do you like it here?” Kerry gazed out the window at the beautiful, stately trees. “It’s lovely country. Must be nice when the leaves change.”

“It’s gorgeous,” Sam told her, with an easy smile. “Do you miss that in Florida?”

“Sometimes.”

Eye of the Storm 23

Kerry watched the road idly, marking the streets until the car turned into a driveway, continued down a crunching gravel path and through a line of neatly trimmed hedges before it pulled up next to a small inn. She released the safety belt and waited until the doors unlocked, then got out of the car.

She was fairly sure there was more to this than lunch and, as she felt Sam’s speculative eyes examining her as they walked towards the inn, she found herself wondering just exactly what that something more was.

“THIS ISN’T A debate, Alastair.” The tall, dark haired man leaned back in his chair and threw his arms up. “You can’t argue with numbers, and that’s what the shareholders are concerned with.”

Alastair folded his hands on the table and kept a patient smile on his face. “Now, David, you’ve seen the plans for next quarter. I agree the last one wasn’t what we’d want, but projections on towards the end of the year are excellent.”

“That’s right,” Stuart Kissington, the chief financial officer agreed, his low, gruff voice a counterpoint to Alastair’s polished tones. Kissington had been on the board of directors for as many years as Alastair and was a formidable bulwark to the CEO’s left, a burly, bearded man with white hair and a grizzled beard. “Damn shame we had to take that charge last quarter, but it couldn’t be helped. Weather.”

“Not good enough.” Ankow shook his head. “Gentlemen, we’re rounding the corner to the twenty-first century and, frankly, this company’s not ready for it.” He stood up and paced the room, an annoying habit of his. “Our shareholders expect us to be cutting edge and that’s not just on technology. We have to be ready to provide all the services our clients need into the next century.” He turned and spread his arms. “We can’t be stuck in the past and I think that’s exactly where we are right now. I don’t see any indication that this company is up to the challenge.”

Alastair propped his chin up on one hand. “David, I don’t get why you’re so against the new network, then. That’s all the new technology you’ve been bab–I mean, referring to in the last five minutes.”

He ticked off his fingers. “It’s overpriced. It’s under designed. I can’t think of one reason why this company should invest in a lot of wires and cables that won’t get us squat in the marketplace.”

“I can.”

David’s voice had covered the sound of doors opening and now a low, vibrant drawl overrode his speech and echoed across the conference room.

Ankow turned, startled to see a tall, dark haired young woman in jeans and a faded crimson shirt standing in the doorway, sunglasses perched on her nose, and both hands planted firmly on her hips.

One hand lifted and a long, narrow finger raised. “It’s all fiber technology. It’s state of the art. It triples our available public bandwidth.” The tall form stalked towards him. “The one problem this company has is our 24 Melissa Good lack of infrastructure. You can’t goddamn well sell what you don’t have.

And if, Mr. Ankow, if you can’t see that,” Dar pulled off her sunglasses and treated him to an ice blue stare, “get your eyes checked.” She held her ground for a moment as he stared at her in shock, then she turned and walked to the conference table, picked a chair and stripped her leather jacket off as she dropped down into it. She tossed her sunglasses on the polished wood surface and glanced down its length. “Hello, Alastair.”

Her boss beamed at her. “Hi, Dar. It’s so nice to see you.” He turned the beatific smile on the now furious David Ankow. “David? I don’t think you’ve ever met Dar, have you? Sorry. This is Dar Roberts, our CIO.”

Dar rolled her head around and peered at her target. “Hi.”

Alastair cleared his throat and stood up. “Well, now that we’re all here. David, why don’t you sit down? I believe Dar is prepared to give us a briefing on the new network.”

Ankow visibly wrestled with his temper, then allowed a smile to cross his face. “I’d like that.” He took a seat opposite Dar. “Go ahead. I’ve got lots of questions.”

“HOPE YOU LIKE stick-to-your-ribs type foods, Ms. Stuart. That’s their specialty here,” Sam remarked, as he opened the menu. “We’re not big on salads.”

Kerry eyed the selections and bit back a wry grin, deciding Dar would be in heaven here. “I’ll be fine, thanks,” she answered politely, making her choices and putting the folded linen panel down. Though, she reflected while Sam examined his options, Dar had been getting better about that lately, and she’d done her darndest to nudge her lover towards a healthier diet.

Of course, during these two weeks, the woman was probably living on cheeseburgers and fries, but... Kerry sighed and folded her arms, looking around. The restaurant was a cozy one, with about two dozen tables and a wooden interior liberally sprinkled with gingham and crafts-work.

Roughly half the tables were filled, despite the early hour, and that at least boded well for the quality of the food.

A waitress came over, taking a pencil from behind one ear. She was an older woman, with a cheerful face and a sturdy body. “Hello there, Sam. How are you doing today?”

The accountant looked up and smiled. “Hi, Sadie. I’m doing fine, thanks. How’s the husband?”

“Cantankerous as always.” The woman laughed. “What’ll you have, the usual?”

“That’ll be fine…and a mug of coffee.” Sam glanced across the table.

“Ms. Stuart?”

The waitress blinked, then turned her head. “Sorry, hon. You’re so quiet there. What can I get for you?” She paused, evaluating her subject.

“We’ve got some poached fish for the special.”

“No. I’ll take the pot roast, thanks,” Kerry replied mildly.

Eye of the Storm 25

The waitress looked surprised. “All righty. That comes with mashed potatoes but we can put steamed vegetables on if you like.”

“Nope. Potatoes are just fine,” the blonde woman reassured her.

“And a chocolate milkshake, please.”

The writing stopped, then started again. “Coming right up.” Sadie took both menus and trundled off, after a long look at Kerry.

Keep them off balance. Dar had told her. Figure out what they expect you to do, then do something else. Don’t let them get comfortable thinking they know you. “So,” Kerry leaned back in her chair and regarded her table mate,

“what is it you want to talk about, Mr. Gershwin?”

The dark haired man looked honestly nonplussed for a long moment.

Finally, he leaned on his elbows and laced his fingers together as he studied her face. “You do keep surprising me, Ms. Stuart. I’ll give you that.”

A faint smile flickered on and off his face. “I’m not sure what to think about you.”

Kerry merely waited.

“Ann tells me you were interested in our bidding methods,” Sam finally drawled. “She seemed to think you wanted more information.”

Hmm. Kerry’s nostrils flared a little, smelling trouble. She carefully considered her answer. “On reviewing them we just thought it was interesting that you won the bid on last call,” she remarked casually. “After not really being a contender in the preliminary stages.”

“We?”

“My boss and I, yes.”

“Ah.” Sam pressed his fingertips against his lips. “That would be Ms.

Roberts, correct?”

Kerry nodded. “Yes.”

“I hadn’t thought Dar Roberts would argue with success. And certainly not that she’d quibble with tactics to get there,” Sam tilted his head, “not with her reputation.”

“I didn’t say she was arguing,” Kerry replied mildly. “Just that she was interested…and curious. Dar’s like that. She likes to know what the real story is.” She paused. “So. Are you going to tell me the real story, Mr.

Gershwin? Because sooner or later, she’ll find out anyway.”

The waitress came, breaking the tension and delivering their food.

They were quiet for a few minutes and Kerry took the opportunity to concentrate on eating, finding the pot roast delicious. “This is very good,”

she commented, as she put her fork down and took a sip of her milkshake.

“Glad you approve,” Sam replied. “As for our bidding strategy.

Well, I’m afraid your boss is going to be disappointed. It just comes down to really getting to know your customer, shall we say?” He smiled at Kerry. “And being local...let’s just say we had a definite advantage in that.”

“Really?” Kerry digested the information. “Well, that’s great. She’ll be glad to hear it.” Green eyes flicked up and caught him staring at her.

“We’re hoping to continue your streak. This is a new market for us.”

26 Melissa Good He settled back in his chair and laced his hands over his stomach. “I bet you are.” He picked up his coffee cup and took a sip. “We’ve put a lot of effort into building a team here. That’s part of our success. You come in and break it up...well, I can’t guarantee anything.”

Ah. Now that motive, Kerry understood only too well. “We’re running everyone through the checks, Mr. Gershwin. I don’t see any reason to make wholesale changes.” She put a reassuring tone in her voice.

“That’s not part of the current plan.”

He started to answer, then stopped as Kerry’s cell phone rang. “Ever in demand, eh?”

Kerry unhooked it and opened the phone. “Hello?”

“Hi.”

It took a lot of effort to not smile. “How are things going?”

“We’re on a break. It’s not pretty.” Dar’s voice sounded slightly hoarse. “How about you?”

“Same,” Kerry replied.

“You all right? María said you sounded upset.” The concern almost leaked through the phone at her, giving Kerry a warm feeling.

“Yeah. I’m just clarifying some of the plans here. I should have something for you later this afternoon.”

“Caught you in front of them, huh?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

A soft, gentle chuckle traveled over the connection. “All right. Call me later.”

“I will,” Kerry promised, as the line disconnected. She folded the phone back up and tucked it into her belt. “Sorry. What were you saying?”

“Just was going to say I’m glad to hear that,” Sam replied, a smile lurking around his lips. “Though some of our people found your...security...very intrusive.” He paused. “Almost communistic.” He bit down on a French fry. “They were very upset.”

Kerry considered that. “I’m sorry if they were,” she told him, sin-cerely. “If it’s any consolation, everyone goes through it.” She shrugged.

“I did. We just hate surprises.”

“Mmm.” Sam paused. “I suppose it comes down to privacy. Everyone’s got something in their life they’d like to keep secret, don’t you agree?”

Kerry felt a chill. “I never thought about it.”

He smiled. “C’mon, Ms. Stuart. You’re telling me you’ve got no closed doors in your life?”

A tiny, wry smile tugged at Kerry’s lips. “Mr. Gershwin, you’d be surprised at just how open a book my life really is.”

He studied her intently, then laughed. “Maybe I would be.”

Kerry sucked on her milkshake, unsure of what, exactly, to answer to that.