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Live on TV3 Palm Springs

Page 13

by Bill Evans


  “Yes. Nothing is wrong, except that goddamn sales manager of mine sucks dick. I want him out. We need to work on a plan to get him off the team.”

  Dugan knew that we meant Dugan. “Not a problem, sir. I’ll work on it when we get back to the Springs.”

  “Thanks, Dugan. I can’t believe this shit. It can never be easy. I’ve got an idea, but we can go over it later.”

  “Okay, sir. That sounds good. Good night, sir.”

  “Goodnight, Dugan.” Stewart pulled the door shut and went back to bed, not disturbing Lisa, who was naked with the sheet partially covering her. He couldn’t help but admire how beautiful this woman was. She might be there for his money, but Stewart didn’t really care. Lisa Addelson gave him as much as he gave her, and that made the relationship work. However, Stewart was keenly aware that Lisa just might actually be falling in love with him. He was not one to let love get in the way of his relationship on any level.

  14

  DUGAN RETURNED TO his seat by the window and added the conversation about Ross Mitchell to his diary. Dugan considered this his insurance policy. He began writing his diary when he started his employment with Stewart Simpson, after seeing how some of his military pals were treated and used as scapegoats by their employers. He would never let that happen to him. The stuff Dugan wrote about no one would believe, which was why he meticulously documented the time and date of each entry. His favorite saying was “You can’t make this stuff up.” And that was certainly true about his life with Stewart.

  Dugan Walt Davis was born in the poor part of New Orleans during World War II. Not having any opportunities to go to college, he joined the Marines right out of high school in 1959. He spent the next twenty years becoming a Green Beret and a specialist in counterintelligence and weapons. During his military service, he was loaned out for special ops to the CIA. The Agency had even tried to recruit him several times, but to no avail.

  In 1979, he left the Marines. He had no family and no one to go home to. He answered what he thought was a weird ad in the Dallas paper. At first Dugan thought it might even be an ad for a mercenary. It wasn’t. It was an ad for a personal assistant to Stewart Simpson.

  Stewart Simpson was a self-made, top-of-his-class Harvard grad who had become the CEO of a privately held communication company. It was much more than a simple communication company. It held insurance companies, an airline, beer distributorships and a conglomerate of radio and TV stations across the country. Stewart was known as a hard negotiator who didn’t like to lose and almost never did. He wasn’t afraid to use covert operations to win big business deals. His company had a net worth of just under a billion dollars.

  The entire top layer of the company flow chart was Stewart Simpson as CEO and Jeffrey Wallace, the CFO. Anne Turney was the executive secretary. Each individual business had its own management structure, and the general managers all reported to Wallace. Stewart kept the management structure as simple as possible to maintain the control that he wanted. He managed his personal relationships the same way.

  The investors were made up of individuals as well as private banking groups. From day one, Stewart Simpson had made all his investors a lot of money, so no one ever questioned how he got his results.

  In the beginning, Stewart took things to his board of directors to get their approval. He presented the directors with an opportunity to become the largest Coca Cola distributor in the Southwest. The board passed. That was in the early 1970s and was the last time Stewart Simpson asked them for anything. Over time he took larger stakes in the company, giving him firm control of the board. The Coca Cola deal, he estimated, cost his company several hundreds of millions of dollars. Never again, he vowed.

  The interview process for Dugan took almost two full months. He recognized one of the interviewers to be a CIA operative. What am I getting into? he wondered. The interviews consisted of several psychological and intelligence tests and a physical aptitude assessment that included knowledge of weapons and accuracy in using them. Several times, Dugan thought about quitting, but once he passed the initial three weeks of testing, he was given a salary. It was explained to him that the company he was interviewing for needed a very special person with a variety of specialty skills, including things like cooking and driving. It was such a bizarre interview. He decided to stay in the process to see where it might lead.

  After completing seven weeks of intensified testing, he finally had his first interview and meeting with Stewart Simpson. Dugan was one of three selected for the final interview process. He arrived at a bank building in downtown Dallas. Following instructions in his letter of introduction, he went to the lobby elevator and took it to the fourth floor. There was only one door on the entire floor and no directory telling Dugan if he was where he was supposed to be.

  Jeff Wallace greeted Dugan as he walked through the door. Anne Turney sat at what looked to be the receptionist’s desk. It wasn’t, and Turney certainly was no receptionist.

  “Mr. Davis, how are you? I’m Jeff Wallace, the CFO of our little company. Did you have any problem finding us?”

  “No sir, I didn’t.” Dugan scanned his surroundings as if he were on recon for a mission.

  The two men sat on the couch in Jeff’s office and talked for the next hour and a half.

  “Let’s go next door and meet Stewart Simpson.” Jeff led his visitor to the adjoining door. Sitting behind a large cherrywood, hand-carved desk was Stewart Simpson.

  Stewart was tall and looked to be in pretty good shape. His hair was dark, and he had strong features. Stewart was a man’s man. His office didn’t have a lot of pictures or decorations, but the furniture was very rich.

  Stewart made his way around the desk to greet his guest. “Dugan Davis, it’s nice to meet you. So, Jeff, what’s your first impression of Mr. Davis?”

  Stewart didn’t have time for anything other than being brutally blunt. He wrote the book on candor, and it didn’t bother him that Dugan Davis was standing right there as he asked what Jeff thought of him. Jeff understood this and had grown accustomed to what some would describe as rudeness. For Stewart Simpson, it wasn’t rude. It worked for him, and his way always delivered results.

  “I like him, Stewart. Smart, attentive, fearless. I’ll let the two of you talk and you can make up your own mind.”

  Jeff wasn’t saying this to be coy with Stewart. This was exactly how they conducted these interviews. Jeff would put the candidate at ease and then Stewart Simpson would try to shake them. What they needed in their company was someone who was, without question, trustworthy, confident, and unshakeable. They didn’t want to get this hire wrong.

  “Let’s sit a while, shall we?” Stewart led Dugan to a small table across the room that had four chairs around it. “How has this interview process been for you?”

  “It hasn’t been your typical job interview, if that is what you’re asking. I’m thinking that maybe I’m getting into some covert operation. I can tell you that I recognized one of the people I met through this process, and I know he was a special ops military guy.”

  Stewart liked the way Dugan fielded the question. He liked his candidness.

  “Sorry for all the mystery and cloak-and-dagger stuff. This job doesn’t really have anything to do with military or special ops. I have a company that is controlled and managed by the three people you’ve met today. We have a board of directors that is made up of banks and individuals who basically stay anonymous. The company is worth close to a billion dollars, conservatively, and because of that we have been advised to take extra security precautions. As you know, there are a lot of corporate kidnappings taking place right now across this country. In this job you would be our driver, bodyguard, chef, and ‘special ops’ guy.” Stewart air-quoted special ops. “Just kidding about the special ops, but there might be times when you are asked to do something that, well, maybe isn’t exactly legal. Would that be a problem for you?”

  Dugan didn’t answer right away. He had done some dirt
y things during his time in the military. He was a soldier who had learned to follow his commanding officer’s orders, even if he didn’t agree with them. He thought about his life after the military and how happy he was with his wife and son before it was all taken away by a drunk driver. Dugan was coming from an already dark place, and he didn’t really want to be happy.

  “Mr. Simpson, I’m a trained Green Beret who has lost everything I ever wanted in this life. If I get this position with you, I will never disappoint you or fail on a mission. It doesn’t matter what you would ask me to do.”

  The intensity and sincerity in Dugan’s words hit Stewart Simpson hard. He believed the ex-combatant and knew instinctively the man would be loyal and could be trusted. Stewart had a deep background check on Dugan and already knew everything the man said was true. All of his psychological testing validated Stewart’s instincts about the man. Stewart knew his story. He never told Dugan anything different than what Dugan already believed this job might be. Jeff Wallace had told Dugan there were three people to be interviewed, but the truth was Dugan was their only choice.

  “Understand, you would live at my home. You would have to travel whenever I travel. Would any of this be a problem for you?”

  “No sir. Not a problem at all.”

  “Do you know how to cook? I’m not talking about making a few fucking hamburgers. I mean really cook?” Stewart cursed to get a reaction from his guest. There was none.

  Stewart liked that. Then Dugan answered the question.

  “I have a culinary side to me, but I’m a little rusty at this skill set for the moment. I can learn, sir, and I will.”

  “Do you work out? You know, stay in shape? Any reason you can’t carry a gun?”

  “Mr. Simpson, I am one of the elite, coming from the military ops program. I continually work out and stay up on all my weapon qualifications. I’m as close to a 007-man as you can find.”

  The reference to Ian Fleming’s Bond would have seemed almost funny if it wasn’t so true. That was why Stewart Simpson handpicked Dugan Davis. The business world that Simpson operated in had everything from corporate espionage to things that the movies invented for people like 007. Stewart wanted the very best person for his company. Hell, he wanted the very best for himself. He felt he was getting that in Dugan White Davis.

  “Mr. Simpson, can I ask what happened to the person who held this position previously?”

  Stewart contemplated his answer and then chose his lie carefully. “Mr. Davis, this is a new position we are creating. It didn’t exist until now.”

  The corporate executive took a few minutes to look over the paperwork from Dugan’s file.

  “Dugan, I have one last question. What happened to the person who killed your wife and son?”

  Dugan had anticipated that this question would come up. After all, he did his homework on Stewart Simpson, too. He knew his answer would be the key to his being hired.

  “He’s dead, sir. He spent nineteen months in prison while he appealed his sentence. The court let him out on a technicality. Two months later, he was run over by a truck. The police arriving on the scene found his body outlined by several bottles of whiskey.”

  “Did the police ever question you about this?”

  “I might have been the only person they questioned. I was able to prove that I was not even in the state when this accident occurred.” Dugan told the entire story looking directly into Stewart Simpson’s eyes. There was no emotion until the end, when he gave Stewart a slight smile.

  And with that, Mr. Simpson offered the position to Dugan Davis.

  Lisa shifted next to Stewart in bed, which brought his thoughts back to the present. Stewart was surprised how much Lisa’s question about Dugan earlier in the evening had triggered his walk down memory lane. He didn’t like having emotions stirred up. Stewart thought it was a weakness to be unable to control his feelings—any feelings. There was only one thing he could do to take his mind out of the past. He kissed the small dimples on her bare back, and for the next thirty minutes Stewart and Lisa got lost in the passion of lovemaking.

  15

  LISA ARRIVED AT the station at 7:30 to start her new career in sales. She had a cubicle, and on her desk was a stack of files from Bo Turner’s account list. The new account executive was surprised that she was the first to arrive in the sales department. Her new boss, Ross Mitchell, was in his office, but he would do everything he could to stay clear of his newest hire.

  Ross was surprised when he saw Lisa walking toward him. He hoped she would avoid him as much as he was trying to avoid her without being suspect to everyone else in the department.

  “Lisa, welcome to sales. It’s good to see you here so early in the morning.” The sales manager tried putting on his best face.

  “Thank you, Ross. Can we talk for a minute?” Lisa didn’t wait for his yes. “I want you to know you won’t have any trouble with me. I appreciate you giving me this shot in sales, and I want to make the most of it. I would appreciate your help and guidance, and for that I will give you one hundred and fifty percent.”

  Lisa saw the relief in Ross’s shoulders and the tension leave his face as he bought her little speech. “Lisa, I expect nothing less from you. I will give you all the help you need. I want this to work out for the both of us.”

  The other salespeople were pissed when they discovered that Lisa Addelson was not only their new coworker but had gotten all of Bo Turner’s accounts. Salespeople were driven by their sales and commissions. When a top salesperson left, it customarily took only hours before the vultures start lining up at the sales manager’s door to ask for accounts. Lisa was as green as they came, with no sales experience whatsoever. Yet, she got the number two salesperson’s complete account list. Rumors started flying immediately. Who was the pretty news girl fucking? No one in the sales office understood this reasoning. It was easy for them to assume that maybe Lisa “earned” the opportunity another way. And that was fine with Ross because it maintained his persona as a “player.”

  Lisa felt the animosity, which motivated her to be the best as quickly as possible. It wouldn’t be easy, and she would have to work extremely hard, but she was motivated beyond her years. Her pure beauty won over the male salespeople quicker than the other women. She was smart and charming, and that helped her a lot.

  Her first six months were spent learning on the fly how to do the basics of the job. Selling wasn’t the issue—rather, learning the mechanics that went with the job of selling presented a challenge. Lots of paperwork, and salespeople in general were terrible at paperwork. She had to learn how to schedule and traffic her commercials, which in layman’s terms meant how to schedule her client’s commercials to air on TV. Then there was learning how to get commercials made for her clients. In the smaller television markets, this was handled by the station.

  Lisa had to learn what to do when advertisers didn’t pay their bills on time. In local TV markets, a salesperson was paid commission the month the TV schedule aired. Which was great except when the account didn’t pay their bill. Then that salesperson had to pay the commission back to the station. After experiencing this only a couple of times, Lisa vowed never again would she do the work and not be paid for it. At one point, she told a delinquent client that she would buy her own commercial to tell everyone watching that this business didn’t pay its bills. Her advertiser was scared to death of that threat. The account found a way to pay their bill and Lisa got paid.

  The hardest part for Lisa was operating in a hostile work environment caused by the other salespeople’s resentment. Ross was not much help. He didn’t want anything to do with Lisa or her problems. It wasn’t his choice to have her here, and he wasn’t about to help her.

  Lisa was strong, and she wasn’t going to let this weasel, or anyone else, deter her.

  ***

  Over the next year, Lisa applied herself to learning everything possible about how to sell. Stewart helped by introducing her to world-renowned sale
s trainers. She didn’t just listen to the sales gurus’ tapes—she got to meet them in person. She studied the likes of Zig Ziglar, Don Beveridge, Jason Jennings, and two up-and-comers, Tony Robbins and Jim Doyle.

  She developed into the top salesperson at the station, and no one ever challenged or questioned the sales manager’s hire again.

  Lisa was a natural with her clients. It didn’t hurt that she had tremendous sex appeal and was a master at showing it off. At the same time, Lisa could put the most provocative women of Palm Springs at ease. She proved that when she met Jackie Lee, considered by most to be the number one hostess of Palm Springs. Jackie Lee was the wife of Jim Houston, an extraordinary businessman from Vancouver, Canada.

  Stewart introduced Lisa to Jackie Lee at one of the few charity events he attended. Whenever he attended a public function, he went solo but would always arrange for Lisa to attend so she could keep him company. Lisa’s beauty, sense of humor, and the fact that she appeared to be attached to Stewart Simpson was enough to make Jackie Lee, maven of the desert, want to know more about her.

  Stewart warned Lisa about Mrs. Houston and cautioned her not to let the Houstons get too close. Stewart didn’t like anyone too close, especially if someone else had his kind of money and therefore similar resources. The Houstons weren’t enemies, but they weren’t what you would consider close friends either. At some point they would end up doing business together.

  16

  THE FIVE O’CLOCK newscast was going smoothly as it headed into its second commercial break, right before the weather segment. Longtime weather meteorologist Bob Walters was sixty and had been in broadcasting since coming out of the University of Missouri thirty-eight years earlier. The Palm Springs ABC station was his first and only job in a very storied career.

  After the “A-block” of news leading off the newscast, there was a commercial break. This was where the production crew would put a wireless mic on the experienced weatherman. Bob Walters made his slow walk to the weather wall. Watching the TV monitor, he saw a car commercial playing. What happened next was one of those unexplainable broadcast mysteries—things that were epic and became legendary for a station.

 

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