“Oh! I forgot to mention stealing,” she went on gaily, bringing a chuckle from the crowd. “I believe all these incentives will help deter employee stealing. Happy employees, especially young people still feeling around for their values, are more apt to feel guilty in betraying a manager who is who showing them kindness and respect.” She took a deep breath. “Hang in there, Mr. Smithers, I’m almost finished. Just wanted to touch on DD’s policy of charging employees for their polo shirts. You stated figures on how lucrative it is to give out only the first shirt free—”
“We lose many employees in the first two weeks as in any business dealing with young people,” Jonathan argued coolly. “It is a waste to hand out shirts willy-nilly.”
“Again, I feel the loyal employee is punished by the slackers, the quitters. I worked many odd jobs as a kid, and my father, a single parent, hated it when I was allowed only one shirt.”
By now Jonathan’s face was as red as a company shirt. “If you were satisfied with a job, wasn’t it worth it to buy a couple more shirts?”
“My low wages didn’t make the purchase a reasonable expense, especially because, in a scandalous thirst for profit, the companies in question inflated the price of the shirts! It is my understanding, Mr. Smithers, that it is DD’s policy to inflate these prices.”
To Jonathan’s evident dismay, a ripple of approval crossed the room. “Perhaps we could look into selling them at cost.”
“Good. How about issuing a second shirt after a month on the job. Better still, use free shirts as a performance incentive, in one of the categories I mentioned earlier—”
“It is my understanding, Ms. Mattson, that you aren’t yet a member of the Decadent Delights family, that you are here by the grace of your fiancé.”
“That doesn’t make her opinion less valid.” It was Michael who jumped up to her defense, standing so close their arms grazed. “Though I had no idea that Krista intended to speak, I am intrigued, as my colleagues seem to be, by the questions she’s raised. And for the record, I especially agree with her complaint about the way the uniform shirts are handled. My first DD employers, the Larkins, never overcharged for uniform shirts. They issued two to every new employee right off the bat. The good deed had so much impact on me, in fact, that I have gone one better and never charged any of my employees a dime for a uniform shirt.”
There was a rumble of surprise from the audience, but it didn’t stop his admission. “It has cost me, but I eat the expense. When young people start working for me, I remember that I myself couldn’t afford even one shirt. Rather than take the chance of burdening them, I pay the freight. One thing I do ask is that if and when they quit, they return the shirts so someone else can put them to use. The program has worked out well.”
The mood of the crowd was remarkably changed. The guarded atmosphere always surrounding a Smithers lecture was suddenly electric with action, the invisible barrier drawn between himself and his associates shattered. Hands flew into the air now, people spoke up. It was pandemonium.
“Hope I didn’t go too far.” Krista asked the question of Michael some fifteen minutes later at an open café near the conference rooms.
“Compared to whom?”
She shrugged, pouring sugar into her coffee. “To your average Decadent Delighter, I guess.”
“Well, I blanched as your hand shot up, but quickly began to cheer on your common-sense approach. There sure is a practical side to you, Krista. One I like very much.”
“I probably shouldn’t have jumped in, but I got carried away. Saw some solutions and couldn’t resist sharing them. I’m surprised others weren’t ahead of me.”
“Perhaps being on the outside, you found it easier to speak your mind. For as long as I can remember, Smithers has been Gerald’s right arm.”
“His strong arm, you mean. I didn’t mean to get so involved, but he’s annoyed me since the moment we met. Then to hear his ‘my way or the highway’ approach to human relations, why I just couldn’t help wanting to incite a riot!”
“Well, don’t be too critical of us who have let Smithers run free. It’s common knowledge that an executive was fired for daring to mess with the tyrant.”
“That’s what’s holding my people back from speaking up?” a deep voice rumbled.
Michael’s head jerked up and he saw Gerald Stewart standing beside them. “Hello, sir. Care to join us?”
“I certainly would.” He pulled up a white steel chair from an adjoining table.
“Coffee, sir?” Krista asked meekly.
“I’d love some.” Hailing a waitress, he ordered a cup.
“You hear about the lecture?” she asked.
“Hear about it? I was there!”
“Hope you weren’t offended,” Michael said. “But it is high time someone yanked Jonathan’s chain a little.”
“Agreed. Hadn’t realized he’d grown so distant from the mainstream, so unapproachable. But in Jon’s defense, the exec who was fired a few years ago did more than criticize him. He was a bona fide slacker who really did take unnecessary sick leave.” He leaned back as his coffee arrived. “Still, after listening to Jon drone on for nearly an hour, I must say I was uncomfortable with the image he projected in my name. The company is supposed to be fun. I don’t think he means to, but he is choking off creativity. Partly my own fault, as I spent too much time feeling sorry for myself after Gloria’s death. But things will swing back again, I assure you.”
“As long as everyone is still friendly,” Michael said.
“Of course. Jon and I will come to terms. His harder line is helpful at times. I merely stopped by to commend you both on being resourceful.”
Their conversation was interrupted suddenly when a small group of men hailed Michael. “Excuse me. If I don’t see what they want, it’ll never end.”
As Michael retreated, Gerald glanced hastily at his watch. “I am pressed for time. But my business is really with you, I guess.”
Krista felt herself blanch as he produced the napkin with her sketched logo on it. “I hope you weren’t offended. It was an experiment, to see if your logo could be improved—”
“Hush.” His leathery face lit up with humor. “I realize you meant no harm. Though, I was a bit annoyed at first. That is, until your precious aunt told me that she finds bald men most virile. She even insisted I take off my rug to prove it. I had no idea the bald head was considered an erogenous zone. Anyway, it was a freeing experience. I’m not ready to go public or anything like that. But it is a possibility.”
Leave it to Rachel. “Do you mind if I ask who gave you this napkin?”
“Found it in my jacket pocket last night, upon our return from dinner. Thought you might have put it there yourself, especially after hearing you in that meeting just now.”
“No, I sketched it at Norah’s luncheon, then lost track of it.”
“If someone was trying to upset me, they have failed,” he said magnanimously.
They were well past the issue when Michael returned to his chair. “Sorry about that. They wanted some details about my polo shirt system. It really does work, sir.”
Gerald’s eyes flashed with interest. “I believe it. You are a very persuasive young man. The things you said about your poor beginnings really struck a chord. So much so, in fact, that I’d like you to write up the whole concept—including your personal experience—for the newsletter. I’ll give you the front page, with a photo.”
“Wow. Thank you so much, sir.”
“Your promo expert here can help you.”
Michael grinned. “If she likes.”
Krista leaned over the table, her voice low. “Gerald had a bit more news. The napkin has surfaced.”
“The napkin?”
Gerald nodded. “Don’t you fret about it. Your lovely fiancée and I have made our peace on the matter.”
“May I see it, sir?”
“Better yet, you may have it.”
“THAT WAS A MIGHTY INTERESTING CHAT wi
th Gerald,” Michael remarked a short while later in their suite. “He have anything else to say that I should know about?”
Krista came out of her bedroom to find him lounging on the sofa, feet propped up on the coffee table, looking extremely pleased with himself. “Not really.”
“You must have been talking about something. I saw your heads together.”
“We were discussing the connection between virility and baldness.”
“You weren’t.”
“We were. Presumably Rachel rescued us when the napkin surfaced, convincing him he was ever so sexy without the rug.”
“Nice save. He complain about their aborted cake?”
“No, he didn’t mention the cake.”
“What a gentleman, eh, letting that go after all the fuss made to get them cooking. He’s really been giving me the royal treatment.”
She pursed her lips, then said, “You’re getting the treatment, all right.”
“This sketch is rather clever.” Michael turned the recovered napkin over in his hands.
“Oh, sure. It’s fine now that it’s cleared through Gerald!”
“Hey, I was prepared to defend you on a bum rap, if it came to that. But it wasn’t necessary.” Still, he frowned.
“What’s troubling you, then?”
“I just hate the way this contest has gone so needlessly off track between friends. All that girl talk at lunch about our entries. Then the snatching of your sketch. If there had to be trouble, I wish it didn’t involve one of the couples who means so much to me. But I clearly recall Norah and Beth trying to cuddle up to Gerald in the lobby last night, close enough to jam something into his jacket pocket.”
“They were bound to feel threatened over the fact that we were out with Gerald. Someone acted on that fear.”
“That ‘someone’ took the napkin in advance just in case a weapon was needed. As for any threat, the Larkins see Gerald all the time—even took the Norquists to his mansion last spring when they were visiting. I didn’t object then. In the end those connections shouldn’t matter all that much. The best-run shop should be respected. The best doughnut should win this race.”
“Thinking in those terms, you shouldn’t have needed a fiancée, either,” she couldn’t resist pointing out.
“I’m inclined to agree, now that I’m in the thick of things. In a way I sloughed off my own principles on honesty and hard work to save my pride, to do my share of sucking up.”
“In your defense, your charade isn’t constructed to harm anyone else,” she consoled.
He pounded the sofa arm. “How easily competition brings out the worst in people.”
She moved up behind him on the sofa and wove her arms around his neck. “Not all people. It’s made us a team.”
“Yes. I gotta admit you’ve been nothing but a joy to have along. I don’t know how I would have managed without you. The hardest part,” he admitted reluctantly, “has been allowing you to see my people treating me this way.”
“It doesn’t make me think any less of you, if that’s what you mean.” With massaging fingers she kneaded his stiff shoulders.
“That’s what I mean.” He moaned softly as she dug deeply into his muscle. “You’ve really gotten to me, honey. Somehow managed to niggle your way deep inside my psyche, where no one’s ever gone before. I find myself watching you with fascination, wondering how and when I fell so helplessly into your hands.”
“You poor bewildered guy.” She leaned over to kiss his temple.
“Don’t you dare laugh at me!”
“I’m happy, that’s all.” She kept a grip on his shoulders as he squirmed. “Don’t you think I have all the same feelings? This was an engagement of convenience. A debt owed by Simona. Even though I was instantly attracted to you, I didn’t expect feelings to deepen, expand.”
He turned his head to gaze upon her with boyish delight. “You were instantly attracted to me?”
“Aren’t you more interested in how I feel about your psyche?”
“No.”
She sighed indulgently. “I’ve never been much of a sweet talker—no matter what the column reflects. But I do believe we have a very charged chemistry,” she added shyly, “judging by the sparks…”
He twisted free of her then to spin around on the sofa. “It’s time to start a real fire between us, see where it leads. We’ll break away from our routine, our troubles. From now until dawn we are going to forget all about the convention, about everyone even remotely connected to it.”
“You wouldn’t dare.”
“I do dare.”
She was astonished by the dangerous gleam in his eye. “You must have commitments.”
“The hell with the commitments! All I’ve done this past decade is work hard, and look where it’s landed me. My only friends are business acquaintances that I can’t completely trust.”
“I have an image of people hunting us down like wild game.”
He grinned. “Not a chance. I’ve been here before and know some of the smaller places downtown, where the locals hang out.”
Krista was brimming with anticipation. “Let’s do it, Michael. Let’s do exactly what you used to do.”
“It’ll mean cheap burgers, domestic beer, blackjack and lots of smoke.”
She gazed upon him with dancing eyes. “They say where there’s smoke, there’s fire.”
He snapped up from the sofa. “Oh, baby, I’m counting on it.”
Chapter Fourteen
Dressed in jeans, T-shirts and light jackets, Michael and Krista joined a group of tourists in a crowded elevator and stuck with them through the lobby and out the entrance. Taxis were standing by, and they wasted no time hopping into one. Michael directed the driver to the Glitter Gulch and off they went.
The cab dropped them off at the intersection of Main Street and Ogden. Michael explained that the heart of the downtown casino area was on Fremont Street between 4th and Main, a short four-block stretch. “What would you like to see first?”
“The hamburger joint,” she replied promptly. “I am starving!”
Michael was gratified to find that Madge’s, the place he remembered on 6th Street that advertised the best half-pounder in town, was still in business. Nothing about it had drastically changed. It still boasted the same retro decor with bright-orange booths, a soda fountain and fifties background music. The mainstay slot machines were even on the antique side, but in full running order, judging by their flashing lights.
It was close to five-thirty and the place was filling up fast, mostly with locals dressed in uniforms of all kinds, from casino personnel to hotel staff. There were two empty stools at the end of the U-shaped counter, and they moved fast to claim them.
There were advantages to their chosen position. It was easy to read the menu on the back wall, and counter service was prompt. A friendly teenage girl in a gingham blouse and lavender poodle skirt approached them with check pad in hand. Michael ordered a cheeseburger, fries and lemon phosphate, Krista a plain burger with onion rings and cherry cola.
Once the girl was out of earshot, Krista pondered how Madge’s might handle what had to be a hefty uniform budget.
“Excellent question,” Michael commended. “Makes my polo shirt system seem cheap and simple.”
“I’m glad that Gerald was on hand to hear your story. Personal anecdotes are always especially powerful.”
Michael was gratified by her praise and was quick to return the compliment. “You initially got the ball rolling by bringing up the issue in the first place.”
“Well, we’re both damn good.”
“Yeah, partner.” Their drinks arrived and Michael lifted his glass of lemony liquid to tip it into her cola glass.
“I can appreciate that must have been rough, sharing a childhood memory that wasn’t especially pleasant. I don’t know if I could have.”
Michael stalled for a moment, feeling a rush of old emotions that he generally managed to block out. “I don’t bare
my soul very often. But you have a way of getting me energized so I forget my usual caution. And sitting there as you leapt into action just inspired me beyond reason.” Catching her sheepish look, he added, “The instinct to speak up was just right under the circumstances. There is finally enough distance from the hard times to make the memories tolerable.”
“I’d like to hear about your life,” she said.
“Norah already gave you some idea of how things were. I never knew my father. Mother claimed to be confused about his identity, but I don’t know if she really meant it. She was a drinker and lived in a haze most of the time. When I was a bit older I came to realize the power of free enterprise. I started working for the Larkins and suddenly I had not only an income, but a purpose, new friends. I threw myself into the job, buried myself in it, really. It was like my porthole to another planet, far away from our two-bedroom apartment with drawn curtains, droning television and a scent of booze and self-pity. I realized that good things happened when you worked hard. Guess I soon became addicted to work.”
To his surprise, Krista was nodding. “For most of my life I was raised in a one-parent household in California,” she told him. “Just Dad and me. My mother died giving birth to me. Thirty-six years old and she had a heart attack in the delivery room. Anyway, Dad was—is a wonderful parent. He did everything humanly possible to mother me—sewing on buttons, mending scraped knees, getting to know the parents of my friends, encouraging me to confide in him, getting involved in the PTA at my school. What he couldn’t handle, his sisters Beverly and Rachel took care of. They would take turns during the school year to come and stay with us. Then, during my breaks I would join them in Minnesota. For years it was my reality, all I knew. But later I did come to better appreciate all that Dad did beyond the call of duty, especially the way he was generous enough to share me with female relatives. There were so many unique lessons he couldn’t show me by example, insight into the artistic and passionate feminine mystique. He was man enough to know his limitations.”
“I’m anxious to meet this man.”
“He’s always interested in my friends.”
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