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.”