Read Online Final Arrangements by Nia Ryan - Free Book Online

set up
the signing for Saturday? We can celebrate at Mr. Griffen's mansion
in Atherton. We can sign Saturday afternoon and take the corporate
chopper to the mansion for the party. You can have my secretary,
Dave, get the invitations delivered. Dave will call Stanley Gatti
and have him start putting the menu together. Just remember not to
invite the United Way president, what's-his-name. Kremsky has a few
problems getting along with the guy after the Boy Scout
fiasco."
    "Shannon? I know this isn't the best time to
say this, and what with your father's passing and all, but Mr.
Griffen expressed to me personally the signing must take place
today. At the express wish of General Kremsky."
    "Today?"
    "Today. Mr. Griffen's exact words. And I must
admit, he sounded a little flustered to hear you were out of town.
The deal with the State energy bonds is time sensitive. If we don't
sign today, we risk losing some of the hedge."
    "Bob? Does Mr. Griffen know I'm away because
my father died?"
    "Well, not exactly. He knows your father was
having surgery."
    "Then you must call him and tell him what has
happened."
    "Shannon. I can't do it. You know how Mr.
Griffen is. When the man speaks, the words appear immediately
engraved on polished stone tablets. He said today. This isn't
something that's negotiable. Again, I'm terribly sorry, but I must
insist you return to the office immediately. Mr. Griffen made it
very clear the firm will not keep General Kremsky waiting."
    "But I--"
    "--If you aren't here, if you in any way
impede the signing of the Kremsky account, I have to tell you your
prospects for continuing with the firm will be less than
certain."
    "You're threatening to fire me? After I
landed you the account of the century? And from which my expected
net bonus check should be well over two million dollars? Get Mr.
Griffen on the 3-way."
    "Shannon, please be reasonable. Calm down.
I'm not threatening to fire you. Right now this is just between you
and me. But if you bring Mr. Griffen in, you're taking a big risk.
He was very--and I mean very upset you weren't in town. He doesn't
really care what the reason is. If he knows you're in mourning for
your dad, he might believe you're too unstable to handle the
closing. That alone, at this critical time in your career, could
really hurt you."
    "This is an outrage, Bob."
    "I'm calling you as your boss, but also as
your friend. You don't want to go against Mr. Griffen. The man owns
the plantation the rest of us work on. He'd bury you in a minute.
There's not an attorney on the West Coast who'd want to defend you.
I understand you're under a lot of stress. But you have to return
now. It's a quick up and back. The whole thing will be over by
Sunday. After, I'll personally authorize some well-deserved leave
time for you. In the meanwhile, if you need help with your dad's
funeral, I suppose we can contact somebody in the area to see to
it."
    "I have someone helping me. And you have no
right to even offer to meddle in my personal affairs."
    "It's settled, then. We've chartered a jet
for you. And there's a car on the way over to take you to the
Burbank airport. If you hustle we can start the staff meeting in
two hours."
    "Bob--"
    But the line was dead.
    Stretch was standing there. "Everything
okay?" He moved closer. "Shannon? You're shaking like a leaf."
    She looked up at him, at his big kindly face
downturned towards her. Felt the measure of him, and wanted at that
moment to bury herself in his arms. To be held without thought or
feelings other than those connected to security, safety, and
eternal hope. Somehow she found the strength to resist the
plunge.
    "Stretch, I've got to fly back to San
Francisco."
    "Fly back? When?"
    "Right now. The company's sending a car here
to pick me up."
    "You can't do that. You've got to bury your
father."
    "He'll have to wait. I've got to go back to
work. I'll lose two and a half million dollars if I don't."
    "But what about your father?"
    The front door flew open. Phil,