Read Online The Ties That Bind by Jayne Ann Krentz - Free Book Online
Authors: Jayne Ann Krentz
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Well, he'd cross that bridge when he came to it. Garth tossed the pencil down on the desk. "Send Wes in, Bonnie,"
Bonnie's smile didn't waver a fraction in spite of the grim tone in her boss's voice, and Garth knew it was because she was accustomed to the tone. Garth was frequently rather grim. He also paid his secretaries very well. Money, he knew, could buy a great deal of tolerance for grimness.
Wes McIntyre sauntered into the sleekly designed president's office, his own smile casually in place. McIntyre was vice president of corporate strategy, and he'd earned the hard way the position that made him Garth's closest adviser. He was in his early thirties and was the living embodiment of the sun-drenched California look. Blond-haired, blue-eyed and ruggedly handsome, McIntyre was also very sharp when it came to corporate planning. He had a Machiavellian turn of mind that almost matched Garth's. Because he knew how McIntyre's mind worked, Garth trusted his vice president as much as he trusted anyone in the business world. But to be on the safe side, he paid McIntyre very well, too.
"I've finished the scheduling section of the proposal, Garth." Wes took a chrome-and-black-leather chair without being invited. He was sure of his importance in this office. "I don't see any problem telling Carstairs we can have the stuff to them by early spring. It'll mean running some of the assembly lines on an overtime basis, but we can manage."
Garth nodded, satisfied. "Good. Time is as important to Carstairs as price. If we can guarantee delivery by spring, they'll pay for the privilege. Anything else?"
Wes shook his head. "I think that about wraps it up from my end. With the figures you came back with on Monday we should be able to beat any other bid out there. A little fine tuning and the proposal will be ready for Bonnie to type."
"I don't want her doing the job on the word processor. Tell her to use the regular typewriter for the final version of the report, just as she's been doing for the preliminary work. No carbons and no photocopies. And she's to do the whole job herself. No need to drag in any extra clerical help. That's just that many more fingers in the pot."
Wes murmured agreement. "I'll make sure she understands. She's worked here long enough to know that when you slap a Strictly Confidential label on something, you mean business. Hell, the whole company knows it." He grinned. "And if there were a few poor souls who didn't know it, they got the point when you fired George Keller several months ago."
"Keller knew better than to open his mouth about Sherilectronics business at a party. He got what he deserved." Garth closed the folder on his desk. "Okay, that's it, Wes. I'll be gone after lunch. I'll take all the Carstairs bid work papers with me for the weekend, as usual. Everything. I don't want anything left even overnight here in the office."
"Hell, you don't even let those papers lie around the office during lunch hour, let alone overnight or over a weekend! Some folks might call you paranoid." Wes chuckled.
"Some folks might call me careful. I've been burned before. I don't intend to let it happen again. If you need me, you can leave a message with my answering service. I'll get back to you."
"All right." Wes got to his feet and headed for the door. It shut silently behind him.
Garth took one more look at the clock and decided to call it quits. Everything was under control in this world, and all he could think about now was escaping to his other world, the one where the soft, sweet lady in the castle waited for him with open arms.
He stood up and walked to the closet to get his jacket. His bag was already packed and waiting in the Porsche. In a few hours he would be with Shannon. An unaccustomed feeling of elation gripped him.
The pattern of his life had been altered because of what had happened between himself and Shannon last weekend. An endless series of weekend escapes stretched out before him, promising
Bonnie's smile didn't waver a fraction in spite of the grim tone in her boss's voice, and Garth knew it was because she was accustomed to the tone. Garth was frequently rather grim. He also paid his secretaries very well. Money, he knew, could buy a great deal of tolerance for grimness.
Wes McIntyre sauntered into the sleekly designed president's office, his own smile casually in place. McIntyre was vice president of corporate strategy, and he'd earned the hard way the position that made him Garth's closest adviser. He was in his early thirties and was the living embodiment of the sun-drenched California look. Blond-haired, blue-eyed and ruggedly handsome, McIntyre was also very sharp when it came to corporate planning. He had a Machiavellian turn of mind that almost matched Garth's. Because he knew how McIntyre's mind worked, Garth trusted his vice president as much as he trusted anyone in the business world. But to be on the safe side, he paid McIntyre very well, too.
"I've finished the scheduling section of the proposal, Garth." Wes took a chrome-and-black-leather chair without being invited. He was sure of his importance in this office. "I don't see any problem telling Carstairs we can have the stuff to them by early spring. It'll mean running some of the assembly lines on an overtime basis, but we can manage."
Garth nodded, satisfied. "Good. Time is as important to Carstairs as price. If we can guarantee delivery by spring, they'll pay for the privilege. Anything else?"
Wes shook his head. "I think that about wraps it up from my end. With the figures you came back with on Monday we should be able to beat any other bid out there. A little fine tuning and the proposal will be ready for Bonnie to type."
"I don't want her doing the job on the word processor. Tell her to use the regular typewriter for the final version of the report, just as she's been doing for the preliminary work. No carbons and no photocopies. And she's to do the whole job herself. No need to drag in any extra clerical help. That's just that many more fingers in the pot."
Wes murmured agreement. "I'll make sure she understands. She's worked here long enough to know that when you slap a Strictly Confidential label on something, you mean business. Hell, the whole company knows it." He grinned. "And if there were a few poor souls who didn't know it, they got the point when you fired George Keller several months ago."
"Keller knew better than to open his mouth about Sherilectronics business at a party. He got what he deserved." Garth closed the folder on his desk. "Okay, that's it, Wes. I'll be gone after lunch. I'll take all the Carstairs bid work papers with me for the weekend, as usual. Everything. I don't want anything left even overnight here in the office."
"Hell, you don't even let those papers lie around the office during lunch hour, let alone overnight or over a weekend! Some folks might call you paranoid." Wes chuckled.
"Some folks might call me careful. I've been burned before. I don't intend to let it happen again. If you need me, you can leave a message with my answering service. I'll get back to you."
"All right." Wes got to his feet and headed for the door. It shut silently behind him.
Garth took one more look at the clock and decided to call it quits. Everything was under control in this world, and all he could think about now was escaping to his other world, the one where the soft, sweet lady in the castle waited for him with open arms.
He stood up and walked to the closet to get his jacket. His bag was already packed and waiting in the Porsche. In a few hours he would be with Shannon. An unaccustomed feeling of elation gripped him.
The pattern of his life had been altered because of what had happened between himself and Shannon last weekend. An endless series of weekend escapes stretched out before him, promising
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