Winds of Change Pt 1 (Dar and Kerry Series Book 12)

by Melissa Good

  Dar’s forehead pressed against hers and she looked up, staring right into those ice pale eyes. They were both momentarily silent, then Kerry exhaled. “Take me with you,” she whispered.

  “Always,” Dar responded. “I’ll have Maria book your flight with mine. Now,” she kissed Kerry on the lips, “bedtime for nerds.”

  They snuggled up together and relaxed into peaceful silence.

  “Can we get one of those RVs that do all that transformer sliding out stuff?” Kerry asked, after a moment. “And a barbecue grill?”

  Dar started laughing again. “Sure.”

  “And a satellite dish.”

  KERRY APPRECIATED A moment of peace in her busy morning, leaning back in her chair and sipping on some tea as she gazed out the window.

  She was, she acknowledged, going to miss her view. Her fourteenth floor office overlooked the water and Biscayne Bay, and she adored it. She remembered fondly the first time she’d seen it, walked down the back corridor by Dar on her first day working at ILS.

  She remembered dressing for work that morning, stressing over the position of every hair, and twitching her new jacket endless times to adjust the drape of it.

  Now? Kerry smiled as she hiked one ankle up on her knee, smoothing the cotton fabric of her loose fitting cargo pants down. She’d been glad enough to compromise with her solicitously hovering significant other, insisting on coming into the office but grateful her boss relaxed the dress code so she hadn’t had to deal with a business suit and heels.

  So now she was perched in her comfortable leather chair, drinking a cup of honey laced blackberry tea, taking a break from completing her personnel reviews that were due for imminent raises.

  With a contented sigh, she turned her chair back around and put her cup down, pulling over her note pad and picking up her pen. She checked her list of names and continued making notes, the sound of her writing echoing only slightly as she rested her head on her left fist.

  After a few minutes, a soft buzzing interrupted her, and she glanced at the gizmo resting on her desk. “Ah.” She nudged it over and regarded the screen, seeing a new note blinking for her attention. She tapped the screen, and it opened.

  Hey. Blue or purple? DD

  Blue or purple. Boy that could be almost anything. Kerry picked up the device and using the thumb keyboard, she typed an answer.

  Green.

  She paused, then grinned and tapped again.

  KD.

  Then she put the device down and picked up her pen, checking off the next to last name on the list, and turning over the last review in her pile.

  Mayte’s. She reviewed her printed comments, then she added a long hand written postscript, smiling a little as she praised her admin, and indicated she thought she was ready for a more responsible position when one opened up.

  She’d gotten her first technical certification just before Christmas, and while Kerry appreciated her dependability and eye for detail, she knew there were bigger and better things in the company for her to do.

  A soft knock at the door made Kerry look up. “Yes?”

  The door opened and Mayte poked her head inside. “Kerry, may I ask a question?”

  “Of course.” Kerry turned over the page and leaned her elbows on her desk, folding her hands together as Mayte came in and sat down in one of her visitor’s chairs. “What’s up?” she asked. “I like that scarf. The color rocks.”

  Mayte grinned, reaching up to touch the red Pashmina scarf around her neck. “We went to the international shops last weekend and my mama got me this. We don’t get to wear them so often, but it’s nice and so soft.”

  “Yeah, I have hats and scarves and gloves somewhere in a box in the back of one of our closets.” Kerry said. “Dar has a sweater that color that I love on her.”

  “Yes.” Mayte said. “Kerry, what is it you’re going to do when you go from the company?”

  Ah. “What are we going to do? Well, we have some travel planned, going to do some stuff in the Grand Canyon, a visit to Machu Picchu, and some skiing and that kind of thing. Maybe go up to Alaska, or visit the Far East,” Kerry said.

  “And after that?” Mayte nodded when she finished. “Will you come back to Florida?”

  Kerry smiled. “Yes, we will.”

  Mayte took a deep breath. “If you make another company could I come to work for you?” She got the words out quickly. “I would not like to be here if you are not.”

  Kerry was actually a little surprised it had taken so long for someone to ask. “Well, you know, Mayte, there are rules and things we have to go by that are part of our leaving here. We wouldn’t want anyone to think we were trying to take people away from ILS.”

  “Of course not, no,” Mayte said softly.

  “But.” Kerry’s eyes twinkled. “If we were to start our own company, sometime, I would love for you to come be a part of that with us.”

  Mayte’s face lit up. “Oh!”

  “Shh.” Kerry put a finger to her lips.

  “I know. We must be quiet about it,” Mayte said, in an almost whisper. “Do you think my mama can come too?”

  Kerry rested her chin on her fist. “I think Dar’s going to take care of your mama, Mayte. I think she’s going to make it so she doesn’t have to work unless she wants to.”

  Mayte blinked at her in silence, then lifted one hand up to cover her mouth.

  “But if she wants to come and hang out with us, you know she’ll be welcome,” Kerry concluded. “It will be a little while before things start happening, but you’ll be one of the first to know about them, okay?”

  Mayte nodded, wiping her eyes a little with one finger. “Yes, it is very okay. Mama will be so happy. She was so upset about you leaving.”

  “Yeah, Dar and I were talking about that yesterday,” Kerry said. “There are people here who are like family to her. It’s hard.”

  Mayte nodded again. “But if we can come with you, it’s not so hard.” She smiled shyly. “Correct?”

  “Correct.” Kerry grinned back. “I want Dar to be happy,” she said. “And I know that will make her happy, to have people around us that she knows and trusts. But we found out, when we were working with the government during the emergency, that a lot of what we were doing, and why we were doing it, wasn’t in our control.”

  “Yes, Mama was telling Papa about that,” Mayte said at once. “About how the big jefe was going to be in so much trouble, but that you fixed it, at the very last moment.”

  “We did,” Kerry said. “Dar and I, we personally did, risking ourselves to make it all right for Alastair and for the company, and we don’t regret doing that, but we don’t want to have that kind of pressure on us, you know?” It felt comforting, somehow, laying it out for Mayte like that. “Because no one really appreciates it.”

  “That is just what my papa said.”

  “Yeah, Dar’s papa said that too.” Kerry chuckled. “So anyway, that’s the deal.”

  Mayte got up. “Thank you, Kerry. I will not say anything to anyone, I promise.”

  “I know you won’t.” Kerry watched her leave with a sense of mild satisfaction. Then she sighed and turned the paper on her desk back over, taking a sip of her cooling tea. “Absolutely no one appreciates what we did.” She shook her head and paused then put the cup down and picked up the gizmo, tapping a message into it and sending it on its way.

  She was still trying to decide if she liked the little keyboard. It did seem easier to type out a message, her old standby palm pilot using the stylus and having it recognizing her handwriting did end up with her re-writing it’s interpretations a lot. Dar’s more regular scribbling seemed to be more to its tastes.

  Her phone buzzed. “Kerry, I have Personnel on line uno.”

  Kerry reached over. “Thanks, I got it.” She hit the button on the phone. “Mari?”

  “Good morning,” Mari responded. “I was going to schedule an interview with you for some candidates on Friday, but I understand you’ll be
out of town?”

  Ah. “Yes, I’ll be going with Dar to Washington to talk to the Joint Chief’s office, and the Executive Branch.” Kerry said, managing to stifle a wry grin. “So maybe it’s better we wait until after that so at least I’ll be able to warn my replacement.”

  “Oh, boy.” Mari sighed. “I don’t know if I like us being so Washington Post front page.”

  “Us either,” Kerry agreed promptly. “Consequence of success, according to Alastair. But hey, that might coax a few people into taking a chance on coming over here. Power’s an aphrodisiac I hear.”

  “Might, at that,” Mari said. “Somewhere, somehow we should be able to find a sucker to take over for the two of you. I’m guessing it’ll be a guy.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Kerry, c’mon.”

  “Yeah.” Kerry chuckled. “I know. I’ve got a call with two of our biggest network vendors this afternoon. Maybe I can see if there’s any interest there.”

  She hung up and went back to her scribing, finishing up Mayte’s appraisal with only the slightest tinge of impending hypocrisy for recommending her for advancement. “Hey, it’s true.” She regarded the paper. “Just because I have other plans for her, doesn’t make it any less true, and besides, it’ll be a while before Dar and I set up shop.”

  She sorted her forms with a sense of satisfaction, and inserted them into a sealed envelope for delivery to Mari’s attentive hands. It was good to have that task done, and a little bittersweet to know it was for the last time. The next time that staff was evaluated it would be by someone else, and Kerry found herself determined to make sure that whoever that was had a proper appreciation for good people.

  Because she had some really good people.

  DAR SETTLED INTO the chair in the presentation room, pulling her sleeves straight and running her fingers through her hair before she touched the button on the video conferencing system.

  She was alone in the room, the door locked and the do not disturb sign set. The late morning sun poured in the windows, and she saw parasailers from the corner of her eye as she waited for the system to come up and start to sync to the video gateway.

  The weekly executive board meeting was never one of her favorites, and now that the board was aware she was going to leave, it made it all the more unpleasant.

  They were pissed. Dar, viewing it dispassionately, could not blame them. It was one thing for a CEO to be resigning, quite another for them to be losing at the same time the senior structure of her operations group.

  The screen flickered, then resolved, and one after the other, the board members appeared in their separate squares. Dar kept her hands folded and her mouth shut, having little to report at this the first meeting of the new year. The Houston video center appeared last, with Alastair just dropping into a seat that was the mirror of the one she was in, giving her a wry wink as he rested his elbows on the conference table there.

  “Good morning, or good afternoon, all.” Alastair said, after a moment of silence. “Everyone on?”

  The group muttered assent, from their sedate squares. They had only recently started using the upgraded video conferencing system, put in place after the 9/11 crisis. Dar wasn’t at all sure she liked it, really preferring the ability to sprawl at her desk on voice only, free to roll her eyes or make rude gestures without giving offense.

  “Okay,” Alastair said, shuffling some papers. “This’ll be a short meeting, since we’re just back from holidays. The accounting group has advised me that year end closing is well underway, and preliminary numbers look all right. We haven’t seen the impact of contract alterations from September, which will probably not really hit until end of first or second quarter.”

  “You’ll be gone. Why even care?” One of the board members asked, shortly.

  Alastair looked mildly at him. “Because until I do walk out the door for the last time, I’m the CEO of the company. I care because that’s my job,” he said. “I’m sorry it’s all twisting your shorts that I’ve decided to retire after almost being railroaded on your behalf, but there ya go.”

  “Alastair, that’s not true,” the man protested.

  “John, it is,” Alastair corrected him gently. “All the after the fact revisionist history doesn’t make that different. I’m not mad about it. I just want to enjoy my life for a while. That so hard to understand? None of you were there. No one was standing next to me when all those Secret Service men were hovering, ready to grab my elbow, and you all agreed it was right and appropriate for me to take the fall. No harm, fellas. I’m a big boy, and it was my call.”

  Dar cleared her throat.

  “All right, I got to stand there and it was really Dar’s call.” Alastair smiled at her. “But anyway, this’ll be a short meeting. So let me finish with my comments and we can do a round table.”

  Dar laced her fingers together and simply waited for her turn, having already been to the December board meeting and dealt with the outrage in person. They could, and would, continue griping, but now, hearing the muttering, her half formed idea of retracting her resignation seemed craven and candy-assed.

  What in the hell had she been thinking?

  What was really behind that impulsive urge to turn around and stay?

  “Operations.”

  Dar looked up. “Kerry and I will be in Washington end of the week. I have meetings scheduled with both the Joint Chief’s office, and the president’s advisory board.” She paused briefly. “In terms of the Pentagon, General Easton has advised me that the job scope we were engaged in prior to the attacks has been expanded. It remains to be seen exactly how expanded, but it appears at this time to be a four or five fold increase.”

  More mutters, but less negative. “That’ll end up being a huge contract,” John Baker said, distracted from his annoyance at Alastair.

  “It will,” Alastair agreed. “I’ve had the personnel group here keeping in close touch with Dar. I think we’re looking at establishing a major hub in Maryland to support the effort, we can’t run it out of the existing one. Too small.”

  “In terms of the advisory board...” Dar paused again. “At this point, I don’t know exactly what that request is going to be. I do intend on presenting them with a bill for the last thing they asked us to do.”

  Small, crabbed smiles appeared. But Baker cleared his throat. “Dar, did they ask for us, or for you?” he inquired bluntly. “Seemed to me the last time it had very little to do with us.”

  “Ah, yes,” Jacques Despin said. “But of course, the resources they demanded were ours, not our esteemed colleague’s.”

  Dar nodded. “He asked for me because someone told him my name, but what I committed were company resources and efforts. Same as for the City of New York.”

  “So what’s going to happen when you tell him you’re leaving?” Baker asked. “And that you can’t even tell him who he’ll be talking to when you’re gone?”

  There was a more significant silence. Dar unfolded her hands and lifted them, then let them drop to the table. “I guess we’ll find out,” she said. “It could matter to him, and it could matter to Gerry Easton. Or maybe it won’t, and they just want to get things done.”

  More mutters.

  “Look,” Dar said. “I’m not going to apologize, just like Alastair isn’t, for wanting to take possession of my own life. You can all go kiss my ass. The only thing I ever got from this board is bullshit and a lot of happiness in having us, meaning me and him,” Dar pointed at Alastair, “take the fall for everyone else. Screw off.”

  Alastair smiled fondly at her. “Ahh...now that’s my Dar.”

  “You’ve been adequately compensated,” Baker said, stiffly. “You get paid well for what you do, Roberts.”

  “Do I?” Dar said. “We walked into both New York and Washington with the possibility of dying. What’s that worth? How many people working there are going to end up paying for that in years to come? What’s that worth? What’s Kerry’s broken ribs worth? You think a
nything in my bank account can cover that?”

  The board looked uneasily at her.

  “It’s never been about money for me,” Dar said, after a long pause. “I just want to take myself, and my family, and do something else. If that causes you inconvenience, too fucking bad.”

  “Look.” Baker held up a conciliatory hand. “Dar, we all know what you’ve meant to this company, and our bottom line. So the frustration is not at you, it’s just we have to figure out how we’re going to rearrange things and not get hung out to dry by our shareholders. You know?”

  “I know.” Dar simmered down, feeling her virtual hackles settle. “We want to make this a successful handover. I have a lot of people in this organization I feel responsible for. No one wants to screw anyone.”

  Alastair took control of the meeting again. “We done with that subject? Dar, thanks for going to Washington on our behalf. Just get what information you can, and try not to project the future to them, if you get me.”

  Dar considered that. “For the advisory board, sure. But Gerry’s a family friend. I’m not going to lie to him,” she said. “I think he’s worked with us—meaning ILS—enough to have confidence that we’ll deliver what we promise regardless of who sits in my chair.”

  The look of doubt was, in a way, a backhanded compliment and Dar acknowledged that. Despite her contentious relationship with the governing board, she knew they knew that when it came to delivering on promises, she was rock solid reliable and always had been.

  So she got that they were upset and angry at having to trade that for an unknown. “Hey,” she said. “Maybe whoever takes my place will play golf and smoke cigars with you all. And not tell you to kiss their ass. Could end up being a good thing. You never know.”

  Alastair chuckled dryly. “You never know. Now. Pier? I heard we have some new leads in Africa. Wanna fill us in?”