Chapter 2

By Penny Reed Cardon

This is a Fanfic of Crystal Sprite’s story Texas Gal.
Chapters 1 – 50 of Crystal’s story can be found on Crystal’s Story Site.
http://www2.storysite.org/a_crystal01.html
Chapters 51 – 53 are found on Big Closet.
https://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/author/csprite
This Fanfic is a result of my warped imagination and I take full responsibility thereof.

It has been said that this is not a true fanfic because it is a continuation of Crystal’s story.
It is true that this is a continuation of her story, but according to my imagination.
It is not intended to depict how Crystal would continue the story.

Chapter 2

Thursday morning, as I was on my way to the office, I found myself following several large trucks bearing the large blue IBM logo. As we got closer and closer to the headquarters building my excitement grew and grew. As they pulled into our parking lot I knew that our long awaited computer had arrived. The caravan of trucks stopped and I pulled around them. As I was nearing my parking space I realized I wasn't going to be able to park there at the moment, the lead truck was blocking my way. As I pulled up beside the lead truck a man was climbing down from the passenger side with clipboard.

"May I help you?" I asked, as I stepped out of my car.

"We have a delivery for Piermont Paper, but I'm not sure we’re in the right place."

"Oh yes, you're definitely in the right place," I said excitedly. "I was hoping that was for us. If you'll follow me I'll show you where you can unload."

"And just who might you be?" he asked suspiciously.

"I'm Darla Anne Drake, President of Piermont Paper." I replied confidently.

"Yes Miss Drake. Where would you like us to unload?"

"There's a loading dock in back and a freight elevator that will take you to the computer center, in the basement."

"Yes ma'am." he said, as he climbed back into his truck.

I slid back into my car and lead the way around the building. Parking off to the side, I climbed the steps to the door next to the loading dock. Opening a small door I picked up the phone and dialed a number that would set things in motion.

"Good morning, Bob, great news our computer is here."

"What do you mean our computer is here?"

"I followed a convoy of IBM trucks in from the hotel. I spoke with one of them in the parking lot and then led them around back."

"Around back? Are you at the loading dock?"

"Yes, the first truck is backing in now."

"Terrific, I'll notify Stan and we'll be right down. I'll call security and have them open the roll up door."

"Great, I'll see you in a couple of minutes."

The gentlemen from the first truck were just climbing the steps to the loading dock platform when the large door started to move. As the door rolled up I could make out the feet and legs of one of our very large security men.

Behind me I could hear the gentlemen from IBM talking softy. "You're telling me that, that little girl said she's the company president?" The older man asked the man I spoke with earlier, as I turned around.

"I haven't been called a little girl for quite some time, I am 17."

"17, and you are the president of the company?"

"Yes she is! You got a problem with that?" said a male voice from behind me. From the angle on the voice projection I could tell that he was much taller than I am.

"Ah, No . . . No, I don't have a problem with that," the driver from IBM replied, as I was turning to learn the identity of my defender.

As I turned I was face to chest with someone in a dark brown security uniform, a little bit of an intimidating feeling to be sure. Looking up into the face that towered above me, I smiled. "Well, Mr. Fisher, good to see you again."

"Good morning Miss Drake."

Just then a very excited Stan Clark appeared, rubbing his hands together. "Excellent, excellent. Come on, come on, come on. Let’s not stand around waiting for the grass to grow. Who's in charge here? Good morning Miss Drake. Move, move, move, let’s get this truck opened and start unloading. We have lots to do."

Bob appeared at that moment and I asked him, "Is Stan always that hyper"

"Not always, just when he has new toys to play with," Bob replied with a grin.

Bob and I were walking towards the regular elevators when I remembered my car. Turning back and digging in my purse, I handed the keys to Mr. Fisher. "After everything is unload and you've closed the dock door, would you take my car around to the front and leave the keys with whoever is manning the front desk?"

"Yes ma'am. I'd be happy to."

"Thank you."

"About how long will it take to get the system up and running" I asked Bob, as the elevator started ascending.

"I've only been around for one other computer installation; that was the one in Brandon. However, using that as an example, it should take three days to get everything unloaded, put in place, and wire all the components together. After that, the engineers from IBM will take a couple of days for testing, to verify proper operation and that nothing unexpected happened during transport. Then they will help our people load our applications, then the testing phase will start all over again."

"Do the guys from IBM work weekends?"

"Giving the urgency of the situation, I think we can arrange that."

"So that would have us back on line and ready for business, a week from tomorrow or the following Monday. That would make it only three weeks that we will have been down. How long will it take to get everything caught up, do you think?"

"You'd have to ask Bill that question."

Bob and I went to our respective offices, knowing that Stan had all matters pertaining to the computer well in hand.

About ten o'clock Nancy called, with a call from Ron Collins

"Hi Ron, what can I do for you?"

"Actually DD, I was hoping I could do something for you. Have you made plans for lunch?"

"No, no I haven't."

"Great. Don't worry about a thing; I'll take care of everything. I'll see you around noon."

"Okay Ron, I'll see you at noon."

That sounded suspiciously like a conversation I had about four years ago with Matt Piermont. Matt had been selling himself and was looking for a job. I wondered what Ron could be selling? I guessed I’d find out at the appointed time.

Just before noon, Nancy called to say that Ron Collins and Bob Warren were waiting to see me. I told her to send them in.

"I asked Bob to join us for lunch, I hope you don't mind?" Ron asked, as he entered, followed by Bob.

I wasn't sure what they were selling, but my guess was they had planned one heck of a sales pitch. "Not at all, the more the merrier. Welcome Bob. So, what's on the menu?" I ask, as I crossed to the conference table.

Both Bob and Ron were carrying large brown paper bags and headed for the kitchen. Bob came out with wine glasses, linen napkins and silverware for three. He quickly set them around one end of the conference table. Ron came out with a hand towel over one arm, pulled out the chair at the head of the table and asked, "May I seat you Miss President?"

Right there, I knew they had been talking with Matt. I didn't know if Matt was directly involved with what was sure to be an elaborate sales pitch or if he was just a source of information. Deciding to enjoy the show and see where it led, I graciously accepted Ron's offer and sat as he slid the chair in. Bob had disappeared into the kitchen and Ron quickly followed.

Ron came back moments later with a dinner plate, which he placed in front of me. "Here we are Madame President, a selection of your favorites, a six ounce steak, seared on the outside while still mooing on the inside, lobster from Maine, with melted butter and light on the garlic, seasoned rice, and a blend of broccoli and cauliflower steamed to perfection."

I hadn't noticed Bob's return, but there he was with what appeared to be a bottle of wine. "Would Madame care to sample our vintage, three week old wine?"

"Three week old?" I questioned with a giggle. Bob presented me with the bottle. The label read;

Tasset Vineyards
Special Vintage
For
Miss Darla Anne Drake
Bottled June 10, 1972
100% Pure Grape Juice

"Yes ma'am, the management felt that anything that had aged any longer would be inappropriate."

"Under the circumstances, I would have to agree," I replied, with a little chuckle.

After Bob poured the, ah, wine I told them, "All right you two! Get your plates and sit down, I have no intention of eating alone."

As we ate we talked about nothing important. Ron told us about his house in Asheville. Bob talked about what type of house he was looking for in JC. I told them about the classes I'd be taking, when I returned to school in the fall. All in all, it was a very nice non-business, business lunch. After we had concluded our meal, I looked at Bob, then at Ron, then back to Bob.

"All right gentlemen, I've been wined and dined, now what's the sales pitch?"

Bob looked at Ron and said, "I told you she'd know in a second what we were up to."

"You did, but it was still a good idea," Ron replied.

"Is someone going to tell me what's going on?" I asked, leaning back in my chair, folding my hands in my lap.

Bob also sat back, giving Ron the go ahead.

"For months I've been trying to come up with a way of making the plants we've got shuttered profitable. Unfortunately, I haven't had much success; that is until just after our last meeting, when I realized I was going about it in the wrong way. It wasn't the fact that I was trying to come up with a new product to run, that was wrong, it was the realization of what we do that changed my thinking."

"And what was this change of thinking, Ron?"

"Let me ask you a question, DD. What do we do?"

"What do you mean, what do we do? We make paper."

"Yes, we make paper and we make things out of paper. But in a more basic concept, what do we do with the raw materials?"

"I'm not sure I'm following you, Ron."

"We add value to them. We take the raw materials, wood, cloth, and chemicals, and we add value to them. It's the value that we've added, converting the raw materials into the finished product, which attracts customers and entices the customers to purchase our products."

"Okay, I think I understand where you're headed, please continue."

"Right, so the more value we can add, versus the cost of adding the value, the greater our profit margin, and the more value we can add the more customers we can attract."

"That's a different way of looking at it, but I'm with you so far."

"So instead of looking for different or new products to run, I started thinking about what do we do to add more value to the paper we already make? We add value to the paper when we cut and wrap it, when we color it and package it, and when we turn the paper into something else - like bags and boxes."

"But we just installed boxing and bagging equipment in Houston."

"The equipment has arrived in Houston, but it hasn't been installed yet. I talked Bob into holding off, until we had a chance to talk. We'd planned to talk with you two weeks ago, but we've been somewhat distracted the last couple of weeks."

"Yes, I'd say we've been more than a little distracted. So, how long did it take you to sell Bob on this idea?" I asked, as I looked at Bob.

"I just thought the idea had enough merit for more consideration," Bob explained.

"Okay Ron, let’s have the rest of the proposal."

"Right. I remembered what Tom had said about not having a rail spur at the Houston plant and therefore transportation costs would be higher. So I got with Bill and we figured out what it would cost to ship paper and paper board to Houston for the box and bag operation. Then I got with Matt to find out where our current box and bag customers are located. Then it was back to Bill to figure the cost of shipping the bags and boxes from Houston to our customers, the bulk of which, right now, are along the eastern seaboard. After that, I got the production records for Henderson, Memphis, Paducah and Ridgely. It turns out that the Henderson and Memphis plants have two forming machines and they're slightly newer than the equipment in Paducah and Ridgely. I also got the production records for Greenfield and Concord. Then I started crunching the numbers. If we move the four color boxing equipment to Henderson, we'll utilize 12% of the plant’s capacity running one shift. That's one machine running bleached paper and one running paperboard and running the boxing equipment for three shifts. Adding the used single color boxing equipment the utilization goes up to 25%. We basically do the same in Memphis only with bags, one system running white paper the other running Kraft paper. With the forming equipment we have, Memphis would be at 18% utilization with the current number of bagging machines, that we have sitting in Huston. There is enough warehouse space in each plant that we can install additional boxing and bagging equipment to bring the utilization up to a full two shifts on the forming equipment, possibly three shifts. Now I know that those two plants running one shift weren't profitable, but by adding value to the paper by turning it into bags and boxes and by saving the shipping costs by having the bag and boxing equipment on site. Both plants can show an acceptable profit."

"I have two questions, Ron. First, if we fill the warehouses with equipment where do we store finished product? Second, at what point are the plants in the black?"

"To answer your first question, we don't warehouse anything at Henderson or Memphis. Everything that is ready for shipment goes directly into boxcars. When we have ten loaded boxcars we have them moved to Evansville, or Jefferson City, or some other large warehouse so that the shipping of bags and or boxes can be consolidated with other products going to the same customers, thereby reducing shipping costs a little more. As for your second question, Henderson would be at the breakeven point at 78% of one shift, on the paper forming equipment. Naturally we would need more boxing equipment and that's figuring the boxing equipment would be running two shifts. Memphis would be at breakeven at 82% on the paper forming, but we would have to increase the number of bagging machines by three times what we have. Now if I've calculated the floor space requirements correctly, we should be able to install enough boxing and bagging equipment, so that the forming equipment could run two shifts and maybe a little more. There is one other upside to this whole plan; we would be recalling furloughed employees instead of hiring new employees."

"That is the real reason you put all of this together, isn't it, to recall the furloughed employees?"

"Yes ma'am."

"Bob, what do you think?" I asked.

"Like I said, I thought the idea had enough merit to warrant further discussion. That's why I agreed to hold off on the installation of the equipment in Houston. Right now all that new equipment is sitting in the warehouse collecting dust. We need to make a decision soon."

"Very well, we'll discuss it in tomorrow’s meeting as a continuation of old business. Ron, you might want to work on your presentation a little, it could use a little condensing."

"I'll do that, DD."

"I noticed that according to how you've laid out your plan, it would reopen one plant in the Mid-West region and one in the Southeast. Why not the two plants in the Southeast."

"As I said, the plants in Henderson and Memphis have slightly newer equipment, although they are still slow and inefficient in comparison to our other plants. That being the case, I still think they would work well for bags and boxes. Paducah and Ridgely have the oldest forming machines, I think they must have come up the Mississippi with Lewis and Clark. Those machines are so labor intense that the breakeven point is a lot higher."

"I think they’re a little newer than when the Lewis and Clark expedition went through, but I see your point. Obviously your objective wasn't simply to eliminate the calls to Asheville, from all the angry laid off employees?"

"I'll have to admit that that is part of it, but if I hadn't found a way to be more than marginally profitable, I wouldn't have made the proposal at all."

"Very well presented, Ron. As I said, condense it down and we'll discuss it tomorrow. Anything else?"

Neither of them had anything more to discuss about the proposal, so we cleaned up the dishes and they both left. I was once again left with almost nothing to do. Luckily, the mail-room had sent up several items, which of course Nancy screened and brought in after Bob and Ron had left. I now had three envelopes marked personal and two trade magazines. Yippee, the end of being bored to tears.

About four o-clock, the phone rang, it was Nancy. "I'm sorry to bother you, Miss Drake, but there's a young woman down at the receptionist desk asking to see you. She says, she works for the campus newspaper at Rutgers University in Newark, New Jersey. We told her you weren't giving interviews to any reporters, but she won't leave. She claims to know you from when you lived in Newark and insists that you'll see her."

"Does this mysterious reporter have a name?" I asked.

"She gave a name, something like Gina Macaroni."

"Gina Marcoti?"

"That could be it."

"Well, I do know a Gina Marcoti, if it's her I would be pleased to see her. If it's not the Gina that I know, we wouldn't want her wandering around the building unescorted. Have someone from security escort her to the fourth floor lobby and I'll come out there to meet her."

I arrived at the elevator, just as the doors were opening. The first person I saw was one of our large security men. Almost completely blocked from view, by the security man's large frame, was a fairly tall female. As they turned, I instantly recognized my friend, Gina.

"Thank you mister . . ."

"O'Reilly ma'am. Patrick O'Reilly."

"Thank you Mr. O'Reilly, I do indeed know this person, I'll take responsible for her from here," I volunteered.

"Very good ma'am," Mr. O'Reilly replied, as he turned back into the elevator.

As the elevator doors closed, I pulled Gina into a hug. "It's so good to see you. What are you doing here?" I asked.

"I came to see you," she replied. Before releasing me from our hug she whispered in my ear, "My little one."

A dim, long forgotten, memory suddenly became as clear as if it had happened yesterday. The memory was accompanied by a warm, safe feeling.

Pulling myself together, I suggested "There's no sense standing around in the hall, let's go to my office, so we can catch up on everything."

"That sounds like a great idea, madam president."

Gina smiled, as she referred to me as madam president, which was how she addressed me the last time we were together. It was an incredible realization; it had been almost five years since we'd seen each other.

We stopped to visit with Nancy for a few minutes, after I'd introduced Gina. I opened the door to the outer office and she said it was a nice office. I explained that that office was for my personal secretary, if and when I ever needed one. I continued and opened the door to my office. Knowing the reaction of most people, the first time they enter, I stepped aside and let Gina enter first. She went in about five steps and stopped.

Gina stood still for several moments, just looking around. Her first comment was a little different, "You know, if those were stain glass windows you could call it a cathedral."

I giggled at her remark, saying, "Most people compare it to a convention hall."

"That works as well. So, may I ask what goes on here that you need such a large office?

"Now wait a minute, I didn't design this building or this office. It was acquired as part of a buyout of another company."

"Yes, Mo Paper, I read about it."

After giving Gina the nickel tour she settled onto the leather couch and invited me to join her. I don't care for the feel of the leather couch, but I joined her. As I sat down, Gina pulled me towards her. She wrapped her arms around me and my head fell to the side, resting on her shoulder. We stayed that way for several minutes; neither of us spoke or moved.

"Feel better?" Gina asked, as she helped me sit up.

I thought about it for a moment, and then replied honestly, "Yes, I actually do feel better."

"I figured as much. I called the ranch and Susan told me where to find you. You may be brilliant and the youngest corporate president in the country, but I'll just bet that none of your college courses covered stress management. My major is in psychology and I figured you needed someone to help you relieve some of the stress your under, by now it must be enormous. I'll teach you some stress relief techniques I've learned, for over worked executives, before you take me home on Sunday."

"Take you home?"

"Sure," she replied with a big smile. "After all, you do fly and you do have access to an airplane or two. I figured I'd come spend the weekend with my favorite corporate president and sweet talk her into a little plane ride."

"I'll admit I do have my pilot’s license and Piermont does own several planes. -"

"And I suppose you're going to tell me you've never gone flying just for fun," Gina interrupted.

"Yes, I mean no. I mean - yes I have gone flying just fun," I admitted.

"So, have you ever flown from Jefferson City to Newark?"

"No, I haven't flown from Jefferson City to Newark."

"So it should be a fun trip, yes?"

"I guess it could be an enjoyable flight. All right, you win, I'll fly you home Sunday afternoon," I said, while shaking my head.

"Excellent, now that transportation is all arranged tell me about your hotel room."

"Hotel? You're planning on moving in with me for the next three days?"

Gina started to gently caress my knee. "But of course, little one. Don't you want me to stay with you?" she asked, as her hand slid under my skirt, caressing as it traveled.

I grabbed for Gina's hand before things went too far. "Of course, I would be honored to have Mistress stay with me. However, we don't do this in my office."

"Why not, little one? We're alone."

"At the moment, Mistress, but you never know when that may change."

"Oh, very well, but - you're going to pay for this later. For right now, undo the top button of your blouse and sit on the end of the coffee table."

I looked at Gina rather suspiciously. I'd just explained about not doing things that might be seen as inappropriate and then she tells me to unbutton my blouse.

"Relax, I only said the top button. I’m just going to give you a little shoulder massage." She replied, to my questioning look.

True to her word, Gina slipped her hands under my blouse, from behind, and gave me a wonderful shoulder massage. I had no idea it could feel so good or that simply massaging my shoulders could release such tension. After she was finished, Gina and I spent lots of time talking, catching up on each others lives, when Bob called and asked to come over. Of course I agreed and five minutes later there was a knock on the door, announcing his arrival.

"Come in," I called out.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know you were in conference," Bob apologized, when he saw Gina.

"It's all right, Bob. Gina is an old friend of the family," I explained. "Gina, this is Bob Warren, my Executive Vice President. Bob, this is Gina Marcoti."

"A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Miss Marcoti," Bob greeted and shook her hand.

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Warren," Gina replied.

"So, Bob, what can I do for you?" I asked, as Bob sat in the other overstuffed chair.

"I just wanted to bring you up to date on the travel plans for tomorrow's meeting. Jerry is hoping on a flight out of Portland and should be here this evening. The same for Gerard, out of Owosso, he’ll be here tonight. Ron came over from Asheville in the 206 yesterday and he's just staying in town. I'm leaving in about thirty minutes. I'll be taking the G1 up to Brandon to spend the night with my wife and kids. In the morning I'll collect everyone that's still in Brandon and bring them down, for the meeting."

"That's great work Bob. I know that having a meeting tomorrow, with everything in chaos, sounds a little crazy. I believe it's important for our employees to know that Piermont is strong and what better way to demonstrate that than to see their management conducting business as usual."

"I agree completely, boss. Business as usual may cost a little more until we fine tune what ‘as usual’ will be for the long term. I think that getting back to business as usual is not only important for our people, but for the industry as a whole. We need to show the world that Piermont is alive and well, not to mention that we are still a strong competitor in the paper industry."

"Exactly. I'll see you tomorrow then, Bob. Have a safe trip."

Gina and I talked for a bit after Bob left, and then we decided to do some shopping. Me, I was in the market for what I considered to be a comfortable couch, for my office. Gina was looking for what she called, relaxation aides. I found Ethan Allen, Fine Furnishings, in the phone book and was ready to head out. Gina took the phone book with us and kept looking and making notes while I drove.

I quickly worked my way down to four couches, and then I kicked off my shoes and started the testing phase of the selection process. After sitting and reclining on each, several times, I selected a couch long enough to seat four, with large wings on each end. The wings would make an acceptable back and headrest, when I was sitting lengthwise. After I made my choice, I signed paperwork and arranged for delivery, early the next morning.

After we finished at Ethan Allen, Gina navigated as I drove. In all, we stopped at four, rather out of the way, shops. I wasn't exactly sure what I was paying for, but Gina said I should trust her. I may have been a bit naive, but for some reason I did trust her. We stopped for dinner before heading back to the hotel.

"Right then, the first thing you need to do is get out of that business suit," Gina said, after we settled in, in my hotel room. "What other clothes do you have?"

"Well, I've got three other business suits."

"Won't do. Won’t do at all. You need something loose and comfortable, that doesn't restrict your movements. Possibly, something baggy. Anything like that?"

"Not really. Well, maybe my silk pajamas."

"Those will be just fine. You go change and I'll get the room ready."

I shrugged my shoulders and went to change into my pajamas. When I returned to the common area, I noticed that most of the lights were off and the coffee table had been pushed away from the couch. Gina was on the couch and invited me to join her.

"All right, this is relaxation 101, stress relief for the underage corporate executive," Gina said, with a giggle. "First I want to go over some basics. The sense of smell has a very powerful effect on the human emotional control center. Different fragrances can strongly influence your different emotions. Some fragrances can make people excited, some can influence happiness, and some can make people sick, while others can actually cause depression. However, what we're interested in is relaxation. I've selected several different incense sticks that will help induce a relaxed state. As you can see I've already put the incense sticks into the holders. The holders are ceramic and they will catch the ash as the incense burns down. The sticks will burn for about thirty minutes, which is just right for a first secession."

Gina lit the incense, one on each end of the coffee table. Then she had me sit on the floor, crossed legged, with my hands resting on my knees. Then she talked me through the processes of selecting a happy, yet calm and relaxing, memory to hold in my mind while I slowly inhaled the aroma of the incense.

"Okay, now close your eyes, breathe normally, and hold that calm relaxing memory in your mind. Just sit there and relax, calm and relaxed."

I don't know if I sat there for half an hour or half the night. At first it was hard to not think about Piermont and the current problems, but as time passed, I was able to control my thoughts, thinking about Piermont less and my calm memory more.

Eventually I heard Gina whisper, "Keep your eyes closed and give me your hands." I lifted my hands off my knees and felt Gina take them in hers.

"Keeping your eyes closed, slowly stand up. I'm here to keep you safe."

With Gina's help I slowly stood, the knees were a little stiff but not worth mentioning. I was trying to hold onto the relaxed state I was in, so I let Gina lead me where she wanted me to go.

"All right, slowly sit down," she instructed.

As I slowly sat down, I realized I was at the edge of a bed. Then Gina helped me rotate, swing my legs up, and lay back. I was so relaxed that I was putty in her hands. Slowly my hands were raised above my head and I was vaguely aware of her fumbling with my wrists. Without any warning or notice, Gina started caressing both of my breasts, through my pajamas. I don't know which was more startling, having my breasts caressed, or my eyes popping open and being face to face with two nipples.

"What's going on?" I asked.

Gina stood up and stepped back, one step. "Do you remember the last time we came to visit at your ranch; you and Susan were getting on the plane to go to Vermont? Your Grandmother had just made you president of the paper division. Do you remember what I told you?"

It took me a few moments before I could recall the events. "You hugged me and whispered in my ear 'We'll have to wait for another day' if my memory is correct."

"Very good, little one. Today - is another day."

"I thought you were teaching me how to relax and relieve stress?"

"We've finished today's lesson in Relaxation 101, and you did very well. Tomorrow we'll continue by adding relaxing sounds to go with the incense and meditation. Tonight we're going to practice a little relaxation via stimulation."

"Yes, mistress. Mistress, is that a leather corset?"

"It is indeed, little one."

"And I see that you shave your, umm -"

"Waxed. A service provided by one of my clients."

"Clients, mistress?"

"We'll discuss that later, little one."

"Yes, Mistress."

~ ~ ~

The following morning, as we were getting ready to go down for breakfast, I asked, "So, what's this about clients?"

"Well, being a psychology major has taught me a lot about human sexuality and the need that some people have to act out certain fantasies or fetishes. There are people that will pay for the privilege of being dominated, humiliated, or tortured sexually. There are even some who pay me to be their mommy and treat them like babies, including diapers and spankings. You don’t know how hard it is to find a baby style dress to fit a full grown adult."

I stared at Gina, dumbfounded by what she was telling me. "You're kidding, right?" I finally managed to say.

"Not at all. Right now I have about twenty clients. Depending on the service I provide, I charge between ten to twenty-five dollars an hour. I'm making enough to pay all my school fees and rent a small house, off campus. Most of my clients are other college students, but some are, well, older."

"That's - I don't know. I use to have dreams about being a slave, but I never considered being one for real, that is until last night. Are you going to charge me for last night?"

“No, little one. You and I have what I consider a special relationship. Now then, shall we get some breakfast?”

After breakfast, we headed back to my office. We chatted a little more about Gina’s side business and her clients. I was still shocked that there were people who needed that kind of service.

I told Gina that I would be in meetings from 10:00 that morning, through most of the afternoon. I called Ian and asked him to arrange for someone to take Gina on a tour of the Jefferson City plant.

About 9:30 Nancy called, telling me that Ian Thorehill was here to see me. Of course I told her to send him in.

“Ian, hello. You didn’t have to come over yourself,” I said, as I greeted him. “Gina, this is Ian Thorehill. He’s the plant manager of the plant here in JC. Ian, this is Gina Marcoti. A longtime friend of the Drake family.”

“A pleasure to meet you Mr. Thorehill,” Gina replied, extending her hand.

“Ian, please. And the pleasure is mine Miss Marcoti,” he responded, gently shaking her hand.

“Ian it is. Please call me Gina.”

“So Ian, are you playing hooky from your responsibilities at the plant?” I inquired

“Off course not, that plants runs so well, I’m almost not needed. Besides, you haven’t been by to see me for a while, so I thought I’d come see you. Not to mention that any friend of yours is a friend of mine.”

“Ian, are you trying to get a raise?” I jokingly asked.

“What, me trying to butter up the boss, never. Besides, she’d see right through anything so sly and mischievous. I just wanted to pass on some information regarding the conversation we had before, about the wildcat.”

I knew immediately what he was referring to, “I remember the conversation. And, the information is?”

“After some investigation I found out who the individuals were, that were pushing the issue. I called them in and calmly explained to them the facts of life. I explained that we were doing everything we can to help them and everyone else from the closed plants. They weren’t happy, but they understood our position.”

“Thanks Ian, have you passed this information to Gerard?”

“Yes, he was informed two weeks ago. Being that you and I had discussed it one on one previously, I thought it would be appropriate to inform you directly.”

“I understand, Ian, and thank you. Well, you two better be off, I’m expecting a full house at ten. Gina, here is the key to the hotel room. I understand they have a nice cafeteria at the plant. After your tour you can have lunch there, on me, I’m sure Ian will take care of you. Or if you’d prefer, I’m sure the receptionist would be happy to call you a cab to take you back into the city. Either way, I’ll see you at the hotel about 6:30.”

“No problem, Darla. Thanks for everything. I’ll see you tonight.”

Gina and I hugged briefly, as some of my executives started coming in, and then Gina and Ian left.

Once everyone was seated, I began “Welcome to the Piermont convention center.” Almost everyone chuckled at the reference to my very oversized office. “Of course, I did have someone compare it to a cathedral, just lacking some stain glass windows. However, I think we’ll call it the office of the President of Piermont Paper, I wonder how big the oval office is?” There was some more chuckling. “Because of recent events, it may be difficult to get an accurate status report from each of you, but let’s give it a go. Bob.”

“Thank you, DD. I’ll leave the reports of the regions to their respective VP’s. As for the Northeast region, I instructed each of the plant managers to continue business as usual. Until we get a handle on what customers, want what products, and when. I gave instructions to produce the most commonly requested products. As it stands right now, we’ve got paper being produced and our sales teams are doing their jobs, so orders are coming in. Our biggest problem right now is in the scheduling of shipments. We used to have forty-one people that did all the scheduling, ten for each region and one supervisor. Right now we have five doing the scheduling for the whole company. The good news is, that our new computer arrived yesterday and is currently being wired together by engineers from IBM.”

“Only five?” I asked.

“That’s all from that department that volunteered to come down, one has requested to be transferred down and the others are only temporary,” Ben added. “I tried to get a few more to come down, but they said they weren’t interested.”

“Thanks Ben. I’m sure you did your best. I think for the next several weeks you should stay here and get busy staffing our headquarters. It sounds like we need a lot of people very fast. Matt, I’m afraid that making the rest of the temporary arrangements in Brandon, will have to fall on your shoulders, for now”

“Right Boss, we’ll do our best to get everything organized,” Matt replied.

“I’m sure the rest of the reports will be about as dreary, but let’s continue, Gerard.”

I was right; the situation across the company was pretty bleak. The warehouses were filling up, but very little was being shipped out. That situation would have to change and change quickly if we were going to survive.

“Well, so that’s the status of our company. Right now it looks pretty bleak, but you know what they say about being on the bottom, there’s no place to go but up. Bill, Ben, I’m going to leave staffing and training of our shipping department in your hands. It’s going to be a tough challenge, but I have every confidence in the two of you.”

“Right, DD,” Bill said.

“We won’t let you down,” Ben added.

“Moving right along. Yesterday, Ron came to me with a proposal that would fall into the category of revisiting old business. So we’ll turn the time over to Ron.”

Ron had indeed been working on his presentation. He condensed it down to about fifteen minutes while still covering the important details. He even included some of the numbers that he used and the savings that could be realized, by consolidating the shipping from a centralized warehouse.

The notion of a centralized warehouse, spurred some additional conversation about the concept of setting up some regional warehouses as distribution centers. Product from multiple plants would be shipped in by rail, which was the most cost effective means of transportation. Trucks would be loaded and dispatched from the distribution center to the customers. The distribution centers would each cover an area so the trucks would not have to travel more than twelve hours, in any direction, to reach their destination.

It was agreed upon by all, that the concept of setting up distribution centers was a good idea, all though somewhat revolutionary, not to mention that it was something that nobody else was doing. It was agreed that we would have to wait until our current crises was well past, before we ventured into setting them up. However, each regional VP was given the go ahead to look at where such distribution centers should be located and to look at the availability of warehouse space, which also had rail service.

As for Ron’s proposal, that was also readily accepted and would be implemented. Bob would arrange for the equipment to be moved from Houston to the respective plants. As soon as we had enough new employees trained at the JC plant, the senior operators from Henderson and Memphis would be released to return to their respective home towns and plants. Initially the plants would be losing money, but we’d install additional equipment as quickly as possible, shifting volume from Greenfield and Concord as needed.

As usual, we’d worked through our catered lunch, discussing the various topics we’d covered to that point. It was just after lunch when Jerry asked for the floor.

“Go ahead Jerry. You know we aren’t that formal,” I replied.

“Well, what I have doesn’t have anything to do with what we’ve talked about, so far, and I wasn’t sure how to break in with a different subject.”

“Okay, new subject, what’s so pressing,” I asked.

“Well, over the last week and a half, I’ve had four independent, paper plant, owners call me, to ask if the rumors were true. Of course, I had to ask them what rumor they were talking about. Each one gave me the same information, almost word for word. They said, they’d been approached by representatives from Alliance, pressuring them to sell out. The representatives made the statement that they might as well sell to Alliance now, while Alliance is still willing to buy them out. The representatives told the owners outright, that Piermont wouldn’t be coming to their rescue, because Piermont is getting out of the Northwest and if they didn’t, someone will finish the job that they started.”

I closed my eyes and let my head droop just a little, as Bob asked, “They didn’t have any more information than that, just that someone will finish the job that was started?”

“They didn’t give me any more information, although I felt there was more they weren’t saying,” Jerry answered.

The chatter grew from there.

With my eyes closed, I slowly shook my head for several seconds. As the chatter died down, I could feel that all the eyes in the room had turned and were looking that the top of my head. I opened my eyes and slowly lifted my head.

“Gentlemen, would you excuse me for a few minutes?” I asked, as I pushed my chair back and stood. I crossed to my leisure area, picked up the phone from the coffee table. Opening the glass door, I stepped out onto the deck.

* * * To Be Continued * * *

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