Texas Gal-Chapter Fifty-One-I See Rough Seas Ahead, Captain! By C.Sprite Posted By Permission By Stanman63! Synopsis:David is a young boy who is forcibly introduced to cross-dressing by his sisters, and their friends. The experience quickly changes his life, as he discovers what has been missing in his short life, for so long.

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By Thursday I was so bored that I was ready to call Captain O'Toole and tell him that I wanted to go home immediately, but– I had announced that I would be at the Friday meeting. It was only one more day, I told myself sadly. A few minutes after eleven a.m., as I sat looking through trade mags, I received a call. I picked up the receiver hoping that it might be Marty from Hollis Homes, but it turned out to only be Terrance Stillworth from Georgia. I was surprised. I thought the deal was dead. Apparently Stillworth was more anxious to sell than I'd thought. Such insight never failed to quicken my pulse.

"Good morning, Mr. Stillworth," I said cordially as Nancy put the call through.

"Good morning, Miss Drake. Do you still have an interest in the boxing equipment we have for sale?"

"I'm still interested in procuring single-color box making equipment, but I haven't changed my mind about the value of your equipment. I won't pay $50,000 for equipment so badly damaged as yours appears to be."

"I've spoken to the plant manager about your offer. He needs the storage space that the machinery is taking up, but he's unwilling to sell it at the price you quoted. He says, and I quote, 'I'll stick it out in the back lot and let it rust before I accept a penny less than $15 thousand.'"

"So you're offering it for $15 thousand?" I asked calmly.

"Yes. We want to be rid of it, but we know it has at least that value."

I didn't respond for a few seconds, while I wondered if they needed the space desperately enough to accept less money despite their assertion that they wouldn't take less. They had called me, after all, and they were asking exactly double my last offer. They might be happy to settle for $10 thousand. John had wanted me to offer $100 thousand, so he obviously felt the value was there. I had just made up my mind when Mr. Stillworth said, "Are you still there, Miss Drake?"

"Yes, Mr. Stillworth. I'm thinking. I'd really love to have seen the equipment spread out in the yard to assess exactly how much damage your people did to it when cramming it into that storage area. Have you happened to view it since I was there?"

"Yes, I did. After you left, I went out there. I wanted to see for myself what kind of condition it was in. I do have to admit that they could have been more careful."

"Well, Mr. Stillworth. I suppose I'll take a chance. It's unlikely they could have destroyed it completely. Since the machines are all the same make and model, we should be able to use parts and pieces from the more seriously damaged machines to make the lesser damaged machines operational again. You have a deal, Mr. Stillworth. We'll pay you $15 thousand for the lot. I'll make arrangements to have it picked up next week. Please don't let your loading dock people move any of it again."

"They won't, Miss Drake. It's been a pleasure doing business with you. I'll look forward to hearing from your people. Good day."
"Good day, Mr. Stillworth."

'Well, John will be happy,' I thought as I hung up the phone.

The Friday meeting only lasted until lunch was over. Neither Gerard nor Ron attended, having been there for the previous meeting. Little had happened during the week to discuss, but as always, Bob gave us an encapsulated view of the health of Piermont, and then each VP gave a summary of the situation in his area of responsibility and expressed his views on events. John was excited about getting the box making equipment and immediately began to look forward to the effort of getting it operating. Bob would make arrangements for tractor trailers and John would head for Georgia with a couple of his guys to supervise the removal of the equipment from the storage building and the loading of the trailers. They would then fly on ahead and be waiting at Houston when the trucks arrived. I informed the attendees of my negotiations with Martin Llewellyn and that we're currently three million dollars apart, with the last movement being mine.

When everyone had gone, I called the pilots to inform them I was ready to leave, then called Earl. As I climbed into the limo I couldn't suppress my excitement and happiness at being on my way home. Earl even commented on my smile as he held the door for me. By my estimation, we were a third of the way to the ranch when I received a call from Nancy, the executive suite receptionist and secretary at Brandon.

"Hello, Miss Drake," she said. "There's a Mr. Martin Llewellyn, the CEO of Hollis Homes, on the line. After I told him that you'd be away for several weeks, he said that it's important that he speak to you now.

"Okay, Nancy. I'll speak with him. Put him through."

If Marty couldn't wait three weeks to speak with me, he must be more anxious to close the deal than I thought. It gave me serious bargaining leverage. I felt my pulse quickening again, but I kept my voice level.

"DD?"

"Hello, Marty. How are you today?"

"Fine. Uh, we have a poor connection. It's a little noisy."

"I'm speaking to you from my plane. I believe that we're somewhere over Ohio right now at about thirty thousand feet."

"Are you on your way to look at Abacor Shingle Manufacturing in Joplin."

"Well, I think I did mention that I was going to examine the plants of other available roofing materials producers since we didn't seem destined to reach an agreement on price."

"Perhaps that won't be necessary. The Board met last night and empowered me to reduce the price if you're still interested."

"I'm still interested in acquiring plants that produce asphalt roofing materials, if the price is right. Does Whorton Manufacturing fall inside that parameter?"

"Let me summarize the situation after our last contact. We were looking for $22 million, and I made you an offer of 21.5 million. You offered $18.5 million. Being $3 million apart, the Board agreed to split the difference and offer the company for $20 million."

At $20 million, the company was a much better deal than before, but I wondered if there was still room to play. I didn't really need the company after all; at least not nearly as much as they needed to sell. And I had Marty believing that I was on my way to examine another plant, which might lead to my losing interest in acquiring Whorton.

"I admit that you've made it a little more palatable, Marty. Perhaps after I check out the Abacor and GRP plants I'll have more interest. I did appreciate the condition of the two plants owned by Whorton, and I'm sure that the others won't be in better condition, but their asking price is considerably lower."
"Would you at least like to make a counter offer that I can take to the Board?"

That told me there was more room for negotiation.

"I'll raise my offer to $19 million, but– that's the best I can do. As I said, I was impressed with the quality of your plant maintenance. That's the only reason I'm willing to go above the $28 million dollars, which includes the $10 million in assumable debt, that we originally established as our top offer."
"I'm sure that if you could come up another $500 thousand, I could convince the Board to meet your offer."

"If things don't work out with Abacor and GRP, perhaps I'll consider it."

"I've toured the Abacor plant, DD. I can promise you that you won't be as satisfied with their level of plant maintenance."

"Perhaps not, but the difference in acquisition cost can rectify that. They're only asking $10 million, and I'm reasonably certain that they're not expecting to actually get that much. I've established the value of both the Abacor and the GRP plants at $8 million each. If I then upgrade the plant equipment at each plant by $5 million, as Whorton did at each of their plants, the total expenditure will be just $26 million. The main difference is that the upgrade is complete at Whorton and the production lines are running smoothly. I'm willing to pay the $3 million difference for that, but I can't see paying more than that." I didn't mention that Whorton had a larger and well established client base, better manufacturing locations, and room for expansion at each plant location.

"Do you always establish a price before you examine a property?"

"Yes, I do. If the asking price is too far out of line with my initial estimate based on our preliminary investigation, I don't even bother looking at the property. Of course I can always revise the top offer based on what I see. Sometimes it goes up, but usually it's pretty accurate and I hold firm."

"I've heard rumors that you never visit a plant without knowing the facts as well as the seller."

"My grandmother taught me that I must know the facts about my competitor's business as well as I know my own. My people are the very best at putting together information about an offered property– and the company or individual that owns it."

"Are you implying that you investigated Hollis Homes?"

"It's only good business, Marty. There are often reasons for selling that the seller isn't willing to immediately divulge. Knowing them helps me make a decision about the offered property."

"And what have you determined about Hollis Homes?"

"You know what I've found," I said placidly. "You've received all the approvals to begin construction of your new plant, but it's mid-June and you haven't broken ground yet. Your predecessor ran around spending money like a drunken sailor on shore leave after a year at sea. You're meeting all your current financial obligations in a timely fashion and your core business is rock solid, but– the lending institutions don't feel you can carry any more large debt. And they're right! Dumping Whorton will clear up a lot of the outstanding stuff and allow you start construction. Then you'll be able to secure new funding to complete the plant, if building the plant is still in your plans."

"We still intend to build the plant."

"Then selling Whorton will allow you accomplish that. If you don't sell Whorton, you'll have to sit on your hands while your permits expire, requiring you to start the whole process over again when you finally raise the necessary capital, unless you can sell one of the other businesses Hollis owns, and sell it quick. The reason you didn't start paying down the principal of the loan to Whorton was because you needed the money to pay Hollis' debts. It was an accounting thing, but not the way you implied it to me."

I heard Marty chuckle. "The rumors are true. You do your homework."

"I find it saves time in the long run. When someone attempts to prevaricate, I'm in a position to call them on it immediately."

"But you didn't say anything to me about knowing why we weren't paying down the debt?"

"There was no need," I said. "We were too far apart at that time. I decided that there were other plants available and allowed that Whorton could be removed from serious consideration."

"And you're still not willing to meet me at $19.5 million."

"No, I'm not. I'm already a million over the $28 million value we established early on."

"Very well," he said. "I was hoping to finalize this today."

"Perhaps we can still find a common meeting point if I don't acquire the Abacor and GRP plants. I'll be out of the country for a few weeks, so you won't be able to contact me for a while."

"Is Piermont going international?"

"Ameri-Moore is already international, and has been for decades, but until now my Piermont Division had plenty of room to grow at home. We have seventy plants in the U.S. now and the time might be right for us to turn our attention to overseas markets. If I find the right deal, there's nothing to stop me."
"I wish you luck. It's sometimes difficult to deal with foreign governments."

"Perhaps it's simply just a matter of finding the right people to manage abroad; the ones with the right contacts in the proper circles."

"That could make an important difference."

"Well, it's been nice chatting with you again, Marty. Perhaps we'll talk again in the future."

"Okay, DD. Have a good trip. Goodbye."

"Goodbye."

I don't know why I allowed Marty to think that Piermont was going international. I suppose that by allowing him to think I was going to be spending a lot of money abroad, he'd feel that there might not be enough left of our procurement funds to buy Wharton. I would have to seriously consider his latest offer. Wharton would be a good deal at $19.5 million. I wasn't sure why I continued to push for a better price on every deal. Perhaps I had started to enjoy the game too much. Was I letting myself get carried away to the point that I would allow a good deal to slip through my fingers just to keep the game from ending? Or did I subconsciously know that Marty wouldn't let go of the first serious prospect they'd found to purchase the company after a year of looking? If they didn't get the land cleared and the foundation in before the ground froze, they wouldn't be able to continue work on their new plant through the winter. It was a small point, but I felt a valid one.

We were probably over Illinois when I received another call. It was Marty again.

"Hi, Marty," I said, as Nancy connected the call.

"Hi DD. Have you reached Missouri yet?"

"No, I think we're over Illinois."

"Good. I've consulted with a few of the more powerful and involved Board members about your offer. We've decided to accept the $19 million for Wharton. You, of course, accept full responsibility for the $10 million outstanding note on their books."

"You're sure that the Board members you spoke to can speak for the others?"

"Absolutely."

"Okay, Marty. You have a deal. I'll call my office and start the ball rolling from our end."

"Will we have to wait until you return from your overseas trip? We'd love to begin construction on the new plant as soon as possible."

"No. I'll send you three copies of a letter of intent immediately. As soon as you return two signed copies, my attorneys and accountants will begin to prepare the formal transfer paperwork. If you need immediate cash, I'm sure that you'll be able to find a lending institution that will give you a bridge loan once they confirm the pending sale of Whorton through my Executive VP, Robert Warren. I'll be back in time to sign the paperwork for the loans from our bank and complete the sale."

"Wonderful. You're getting a good deal, you know. Whorton has been a solid performer for us."

"That's the way we see it, also. It's been a pleasure doing business with you, Marty. You have a nice weekend."

"Thank you. I will now. Goodbye."

"Goodbye."

As I opened my briefcase and began filling out the copies of the letter of intent I felt like I owned Boardwalk and Park Place with hotels on each, and my gaming opponent had just landed sequentially on both. I had gotten a property that I had gone after, and then negotiated the price down by three million dollars. Three million dollars! That was half a million more than I had paid for Piermont Paper when I began the Paper Division four years ago. The only problem was– I could already feel the adrenaline rush beginning to wear off.

I had copies of all the paperwork with me for the Whorton offer so I found the address where I should send the letter of intent, but I had no way of sending it. If I wanted to send it from the ranch, a courier would have to come all the way down from Dallas. I walked forward and asked the copilot where we were. When he pointed out our position on his CG-20 World Aeronautical Chart, I asked Captain O'Toole to divert to Jefferson City. The office building we had acquired from Mo Paper was only minutes from the airport. It was mostly empty, but we still had small staffs there in sales and various accounting functions. The close proximity of the office building to the paper plant, meant that almost all office functions, such as those related to payroll, personnel, paper shipments, invoicing, and materials receiving, had been handled at the office building, and still were.

I called Nancy in Vermont and asked her to arrange to have someone pick me up at the airport in Jefferson City and bring me to the office building. I also asked her to arrange for a courier to come to the office building there and pick up a letter for delivery to Hollis Homes corporate offices in Tampa, Florida. Lastly I asked her if Mr. Warren was still at the office. When she said he was, I asked her to connect me to his office.

"DD?" I heard as the connection went through. "I thought you were headed home?"

"I am, but Martin Llewellyn kept calling and Nancy called me on the plane. I made an agreement to buy Whorton. I'll be stopping at Jefferson City to send the letter of intent to Hollis Homes corporate offices."

"Did we get our price?"

"We agreed on $19 million."

"Terrific. I don't think we can go wrong for that."

"Llewellyn will return the forms to you as soon as possible because he's anxious to begin construction on his new plant. After you confirm that no changes have been made, send a notarized copy back to him. You may be contacted by his lending institution to confirm the deal so he can get the money he needs for construction. I'll be back before the formal transfer is made so I can sign for the bank note then. You'll have to arrange the usual transition team stuff, but everything should be straightforward. After I get back we'll discuss management and coordination of the plants with the Jamestown plant. I guess that's all, Bob."

"Okay, boss. I'll handle it. Have a great vacation. See you in a few weeks."

"Thanks, Bob. See you then."

When I deplaned at JC, I found Ian Thorehill waiting for me.

"Zit, I didn't want to drag you away from your plant," I said.

"When I heard you were coming, I wouldn't let anyone else have the honor," he said. "Where to, the plant?"

"The office building. I need to send a letter via courier. My secretary should have made the arrangements. I just have to wait until he or she arrives."

"Your chariot awaits, my lady," he said, gesturing towards his car.

"How are things going here?" I asked as he pulled out of the parking lot.

"Wonderful. Except for a little grousing from some of the employees who would rather be working in their home towns, everything is great."

"At least they have jobs. It's the best I can do for them right now."

"I know. And most are appreciative, but people are people after all. A couple of the more vocal ones are calling for a strike to shut this plant down until the plant in their home town is reopened."

"I hadn't heard that."

"I haven't told Gerard yet. I've been trying to quell the situation, but most of the employees here are from the four former Mo Paper plants that are still closed. The agitators seem to be gaining momentum."

"If they manage to close this plant, they'll accomplish nothing. We wouldn't have to reopen the plants in their home towns. We have too much unused capacity right now. We're only operating at 52% of full capacity. Franklin has three machines that haven't been started up since they were overhauled, and we could have them in full operation within a couple of days. With Franklin producing paper at maximum, and another shift added to just one of the other big plants, we could out produce this plant easily. All a wildcat strike will accomplish is to deprive the families of the employees here of their paycheck."

Ian sighed. "I know. But sometimes people can be so damn pig-headed. I need only look at my own extended family to know that. I hope that the talk is just that, and that saner minds will prevail."

"Yes, let's hope it's just talk. But– better inform Gerard anyway."

"Okay, DD."

The office building in JC was four stories of gleaming mirror glass that reflected the sky and surrounding terrain. Viewed from the right angles, it almost seemed to disappear. It was only three years old now, having been built at the same time as the new paper plant. Ian pulled up in front and parked in the spot marked 'President.' Someone had painted over Roy Blu's name, but the black letters were still perceivable through the single layer of white paint.

"Do you have to get back," I asked, "or would you like to come in?"

"Everything is running so smoothly, they won't even know I'm not there."

"Good. Come in then. We can talk while I wait for the courier."

The security guard in the entrance foyer braced to attention and saluted me sharply as we entered. Using his left arm to point, he said, "The elevators are straight ahead, Miss Drake. You'll be met on the top floor."

Although the guards always saluted the limo when I entered the grounds of any of our plants, I had never been saluted in person before. I was unsure what to do so I nodded, smiled, and thanked him as we continued past. Both elevators were waiting with their doors open. Ian tapped the fourth floor button as we stepped into the one on the left. I noticed there was a B button also. I hadn't realized there was a basement in this building. When the doors opened on the top floor, a young woman was waiting there to greet us.

"Good afternoon, Miss Drake, Mr. Thorehill," she said. Gesturing to her right, she added, "Your office is this way, ma'am."

We followed her down several long corridors to a door with gleaming, raised brass letters that spelled 'President.' Inside, we found an outer office with a secretarial desk and eight chairs for waiting visitors. Continuing through, we found an office at least twice the size of my office in Brandon. Roy Blu certainly hadn't been stingy with the floor space. There was a large outside deck at the corner of the building, accessible only from sliding doors in this office, and windows that looked out both south and west.

"Thank you," I said to the woman who had escorted us. "What's your name and your job title?"

"I'm Ellen DeFranco. I'm the executive floor receptionist. I sit out at the counter that faces the elevators. I'm the only one still left on this floor. Can I get you anything?"

"If you have them, I'd like a cup of tea, cream or milk, and honey."

"Black or herbal tea?"

"Black."

"And you, Mr. Thorehill?"

"Coffee, cream and sugar, please."

"I'll be right back," she said as she left the office.

I walked to Roy Blu's enormous desk and set my briefcase down to remove the two sealed envelopes; one was addressed to Hollis Homes, and the other to Bob Warren. He would need an original copy to insure that Hollis Homes didn't make any changes to the three copies I was sending to them. They would keep one and return the other two notarized forms for our signatures and notarization. The third copy would let them compare the notarized copy when it was returned to them so they'd know that we hadn't made any changes during the time we had it.

"You stopped here just to meet a courier?" Ian asked.

"It's important, and if I waited until I get back to the ranch, someone would have to come all the way down from Dallas. We were practically over-flying JC anyway."

Ellen returned with the tea and coffee, and a small dish of chocolate chips cookies. After she had gone, and we had fixed our beverages, Ian and I talked about his challenges with the temporary workers in JC until the courier arrived.

With my business completed, Ian drove me back to the airport. I had called the pilots before we left the office building and the jet was warming up when we arrived. Ten minutes later we were airborne again for the ranch.

Susan and Ricardo came down to the runway to help me with my bags. Judy had reported to her new job and wasn't home, although she'd be back sometime tonight to travel to the Riviera with us. Mary had likewise gone to her summer job and would be home tonight. Auntie would be home in time for dinner.
"You arrived home early, dear," Mother said, as we sat down to eat dinner an hour later.

"It was a slow week and the Friday meeting ended early," I said.

"You couldn't find any new companies to buy this trip?" Susan asked facetiously.

"Just a small one with two plants," I said. "We need them to bolster our roofing products operations because our plant in Jamestown is doing so well. We didn't want to risk not being able to meet our commitments for product. Once the new plants are integrated into our system, the temporary loss of a manufacturing line at one of the plants won't drop us behind the eight ball."

"How much did you spend this time?" she asked.

"We only have to lay out $19 million initially, but the company is carrying $10 million in debt, so the full price is $29 million. The parent was carrying it on their books as being valued at $36 million, but they need cash for an expansion program in another area, so I got it at a good price. The two plants are profitable from day one, and will pay all interest expense on the debt as they pay off the loans. If we can increase sales and production, we can turn a nice profit besides."

"Why so much debt?" Auntie asked.

"When the parent purchased them, they replaced much of the manufacturing equipment with new. It's been kept in excellent condition and we should have years without a serious problem. When you calculate in the fact that the parent depreciated the new equipment as quickly as possible, the bottom line looks even better. "

"Thirty-six million dollars," Susan said, shaking her head.

"Only twenty-nine million dollars," I said, grinning. "The other seven million is the initial gravy."

As we prepared for bed later, Susan brought up the subject of the two roofing material plants again.

"How many plants does that make now?" she asked.

"Seventy-two, counting paper, cardboard, business forms, sawmills, and roofing products. I just updated my map again. After acquiring the former South-Core properties, I changed the regional alignment slightly. The old boundaries were primarily established to delineate sales territories, and I altered them for regional administration when the need arose to establish regional boundaries. This change evens out the territory size and therefore the management responsibility in each region. The new boundary is close to parallel 36 ° 30', so where the states of Virginia and West Virginia were once part of the Southeast region, they're now part of the Northeast region.

"After I get back, I'm going to formally create a sub-division for Roofing Materials. I should probably do the same for Business Forms. That will mean two more VP positions, but each group has three plants now and there should be someone concentrating a hundred percent of their effort towards growing those product areas. And we've gotten so big that I feel I should create a VP position for the Northeast to relieve the pressure on Bob Warren. He's handling the duties of Executive VP, which means that when I'm at school he does everything I should be doing, while also managing the region and the Brandon plant, but he doesn't want to give up any of the jobs. I think that I'm going to insist he at least give up day to day responsibility for Brandon, and appoint a plant manager there. One person can only handle so much effectively."

"You seem to be doing okay."

"Me?" I said with a chuckle. "Suz, I don't do anything except create problems for my people by acquiring new plants. They have to do the work of first integrating them, and then getting them running efficiently. I'm lucky to have so many great people. They make me look like a genius."

"When are you going to stop?"

"Stop? You mean stop growing?" When she nodded I said, "I suppose when we're as big as Alliance." Grinning at her, I added, "So I only need about three-hundred-thirty more locations worldwide."

"Are you serious?"

"No," I said, grinning. "It's never been my goal to surpass Alliance, GP, or anyone else. I was just concerned with building a division that would be a credit to Ameri-Moore. Things have moved along a lot faster than I ever dreamed. You were there at the beginning, so you know what I'm talking about. Remember our first 'master plan,' and how it didn't survive even a full year because we achieved all our goals so quickly? I was thinking about my involvement last weekend. I believe the division has expanded so quickly because I didn't have any other real duties. I could spend all my time building the company because my people handled all the day to day stuff. Since I was also going to school, I had to move quickly while I was on holiday or vacation. I don't know if I was driving events, or if they were driving me."

"I think we can pretty safely say that you were in the driver's seat;" Susan said, grinning, "the driver's seat of a runaway bus. Like you said, I was there at the beginning."

"I was doing the steering, as far as the division went, but these terrific deals kept popping up in front of me like frightened pedestrians. People kept sending me offers I couldn't ignore, and my managers kept rebuilding the businesses to where they should have been before I purchased them. As we grew, economies of scale gave us an increasing edge over smaller companies, which allowed us to flourish. If I didn't have so many wonderful people, I'd probably still be struggling to make the Brandon plant profitable." I sighed. "Those days might be over now. If I was boat captain, I'd say I sense serious weather ahead."
"What do you mean?" she asked.

"Just that a number of serious problems are beginning to surface. We commissioned an engineering survey of our plants to see which might be susceptible to flooding. We know that Mother Nature may one day open her bag of nasty tricks so wide that dams and flood control measures are unable to cope with the deluge. Although flooding by the Mississippi, Missouri, and Ohio Rivers, probably present the greatest threats, any river or tributary can overflow its banks during times of great rainfalls, or even dam collapse. We've been assured that most of our plants are safe, barring a flood that causes us to begin building arks, but four are potentially vulnerable, although only in extreme conditions. Right now, those four plants are closed, and have been since we acquired them in the Mo Paper deal. If we upgrade those plants with new or at least new-er equipment, we'll have to build a levee of some sort around them to protect them and our finished products.

"As part of the same contract, the engineering firm worked to design a sediment pool system for each plant location, and an expandable filtration system that will remove the heaviest concentrations of contaminants before the water is returned to the environment. The cost of the survey and construction plans was high, but the cost of actually building the pools and filtration systems for all fifty-one of the fifty-two paper plants that don't presently have them will be astronomical. It has to be done though, so Bob Warren will be soliciting bids from contractors to build the first ten. Brandon, Greenfield, Gorham, Concord, Norridgewock, Millinocket, Franklin, Owosso, Asheville, and Evansville should begin construction as soon as the weather breaks next spring. Our goal is to complete ten each year."

"Do you think that the construction schedule of only ten each year will allow you keep ahead of your acquisition schedule," Susan asked facetiously.
I shrugged my shoulders and replied in the same tone. "It's a start." Returning to my train of thought I said, "Then there's the matter of the fifteen plants in the northwest. I acquired most of them just to spit in the eye of Robert De Forest. He contacted me after I bought the first four plants and said that they've always considered everything west of the Mississippi to be in Alliance's backyard; the implication being that they didn't like anyone else playing there. I mentioned that neither Owosso nor Appalachian were west of the Mississippi, but he ignored the fact that Alliance had twice tried, unsuccessfully, to expand into the east. Then they instituted a pricing structure designed to kill off all the remaining competition in the Northwest, including us. Our size allows us to run the plants at lower operating costs than the independents because of volume buying with chips, chemicals, and other supplies. We break even while selling at prices that would eventually bankrupt an independent.

"I decided that if we have to operate four plants without making a profit, we could just as well operate a dozen without making a profit. Plus I figured it was the only way to bring things to a head. Fewer independent plants mean fewer targets for Alliance and less reason to prolong a price war. Alliance had so undermined the small independents that I was able to pick up the plants at a third their value. I've felt a little guilty for taking advantage, but the owners made out better by selling to me than letting the banks foreclose on delinquent notes or selling to Alliance at the price they were offering. Every one received at least a million more than Alliance would have given them. We got a hundred fifty million in assets for less than fifty million, but it'll cost us fifty million to build sediment pools and filtrations plants for each location at a time when we're barely able to cover normal operating expenses and payments on the debt we incurred to procure the plants, so they could potentially become a severe drain on the division. Lastly, my JC plant manager told me today that his employees are talking wildcat strike. They seem to believe that if they shut down the plant there, they can dictate policy to me regarding which other plants I operate."

"No!"

"Yes."

"Can they do that?" Susan asked.

"Workers can always go on strike; they're employees, not slaves. But the only thing the JC employees will accomplish is the closure of the JC plant and the loss of their jobs. We have plenty of paper making capacity. In fact we have too much. We've grown far faster than our sales people can find new customers."
"Then closing that plant might be a good thing," Susan said.

"From that one perspective perhaps, but JC is our newest plant, and its equipment is the most automated and most cost efficient to operate. It's also the only one with pollution controls already in place." I paused to sigh. "Oh, I don't know. I probably shouldn't be burdening you with these problems."
"What do you intend to do?"

"I intend to enjoy the few days we have left before we head for France by riding every day and studying the language records at night," I said smiling.
"I mean about Piermont," Susan said scowling.

"I'm going to do my best to forget about business until we return. I just hope that things remain stable while we're away. Last year South-Core released that press statement while we were away."

"Have they caused you any problems lately," she asked.

"They've been quiet– which might mean that they're up to something, or might mean they've finally decided to avoid targeting Piermont. I won't know until they either act, or I hear something from my investigator. I warned them when I took away their forestland and ten best plants that if I had to deal with them again, I wouldn't let them off so easy. I just hope they got the message. I've got too many other things to worry about."

As planned, I rode every morning for the next four days, never alone, and Judy, Mary, Susan, and I spent each night together reviewing the French language course.

On Wednesday, Grandma came over with Charles and her personal secretary. They arrived at noon so we were able to enjoy a leisurely lunch together before assembling our luggage on the tarmac by the hanger. Mother and Auntie had given Rosa and Ricardo their instructions and contact numbers, so when the jet arrived, we were ready to climb aboard. Once our luggage was stowed aboard, and we had given the pilots the pies and cakes we had baked for them, we took our seats in preparation for the takeoff. I was very afraid that this might be our last summer vacation together, but I suppressed my anxieties and put on my best smile. We waved to Rosa and Ricardo as the jet applied power and we climbed into the skies.

We stopped to refuel in Nova Scotia before making the jump over the Atlantic, then refueled again in Scotland. The jet touched down in France early in the morning.

As always, the first day was devoted to catching up on our sleep and getting our internal clocks reset. We awoke in late afternoon and enjoyed a delightful breakfast before settling onto the veranda to watch the sunset. Mostly for Grandma's benefit, we rehashed events at our respective divisions, with most of the time being devoted to a discussion of my problems since I had been until now the most active with the companies. Grandma nodded while I related recent events, and asked for clarifying information a couple of times, but refrained from offering any suggestions or advice. I knew that her silence meant she basically approved of my actions. Grandma never hesitated to offer guidance when she felt we needed it, nor praise when she felt we deserved it. Following the acquisition of the South-Core properties in September, her praise had been overwhelming. So I supposed that her silence now meant that she held certain reservations about my current management of Piermont. If she had any concerns, they had to be about my aggressive approach to the situation with Alliance. I considered bluntly asking her what she thought, but then decided not to. Grandma had a reason for every action, and if she felt that she should remain silent now, that's the way she would remain. Asking for her thoughts would give her the impression that I was feeling insecure about my position, and that wasn't really the case. I mentally shrugged off the feeling.

We arose early in the morning and headed down to the beach right after breakfast. After slathering on an abundance of suntan protection, we lay down to catch a few rays. Grandma, as always, sequestered herself beneath a large umbrella near Mother and Auntie.

With each passing hour, an increasing number of boys set up their blankets nearby. They never approached us, perhaps because Grandma was so close, but when we decided to take a dip, it seemed like half the beach emptied into the Mediterranean. At seventeen, I'm the youngest, but Susan, who looks every bit of eighteen, actually appears like the baby of the family. We all have the bodies of adult women, and I could tell that our admirers were hopeful of exploring hidden assets. Mine, at least, will remain hidden for now. Only one thing about me was inconsistent with the rest of my appearance, but that was enough to ensure my chastity.

Mary and Judy were almost shameless with their flirting, while Susan and I remained a bit more reserved. With a few boys that seemed to increase their fervor. I suppose they were the type that like girls with 'hard to get' attitudes. Mom gave us a lot more latitude than in previous years, and never once called us to the blankets where she and Grandma were reclining. I suppose that she finally felt we were old enough to make mature decisions regarding the men we met.

As lunch time neared, and the intensity of the sun seemed to increase, we headed back to the villa. As in the past, several of the young men we had been talking to tried to follow. In the past Grandma had dissuaded them, but now she left it up to us to get the point across that we weren't extending any invitations to join us either at lunch, or even to use the outdoor shower stall we have for washing the sand off when returning from the beach.

Most of our retinue took the hint when we announced that none were invited to lunch, but several continued to tag along determinedly. Judy finally stopped, turned to face them, and in French announced that she hoped they weren't going be silly about following us. She said that the boy who ignored her warning last year still didn't have the full use of the leg where one of our bodyguards shot him when he tried to get into the villa's courtyard. They laughed like it was all a joke until they realized that the rest of us were maintaining stoical expressions. Perhaps they decided not to press it further because they turned around dejectedly and walked back towards the beach. We maintained our expressions back to the villa, but we had a good laugh about it over lunch. I don't even know if Charles has a firearm available.

Following lunch we took a walk through town to do some shopping. Again we attracted a following of young men. Several even tried to buy us things that we looked at, but none of us were interested in paying the price that they would try to exact afterwards.

Mornings on the beach and afternoons spent shopping may not sound like much fun to some, but it was wonderful. I don't know if anyone recognized me, but if they did they never acknowledged the fact. We let our hair down, so to speak, with intentions of enjoying our two weeks fully.

It was on Saturday night of our second week, just two days before we were scheduled to leave, when it happened. It must have been four a.m. in the morning when I was brusquely awakened from a sound sleep. My assailant turned out to be Mary, the last person I'd expect to see up at that hour. She hadn't turned the lights on, but there was enough moonlight to see her clearly.

"Huh? What is it?" I said groggily.

"Darla Anne, wake up!" she said excitedly.

"Okay, okay, I'm awake," I said, "sort of. What is it?"

Susan was awakened by the sound of our voices and began to sleepily make her own inquires about the early morning interruption.

"It's Judy!" Mary said with considerable agitation. "She's gone!"

"What do you mean, gone," I said, suddenly more awake.

"I don't know. She's not in our bedroom. I thought she might have gone downstairs to get something to eat or drink, but she's not there either. She's not in the house."

"You've searched the whole house?"

"All except for the bedrooms of Charles and the cook. I looked into Mom's and Auntie's bedroom, and even glanced into Grandma's. She's not in the house or on the veranda, and the doors are all locked."

"Why come to me?" I said. "I don't know where she is. You should tell Mother."

"I can't tell Mother. She'd wake Grandma and then they'd want to call the police or something. We can't blow this out of proportion."

"What do you think I can do?"

"I don't know, but you're Darla Anne Drake. You're DD. You always know what to do."

"I wish that were true, but it isn't."

"Are you kidding? You're Supergirl. Everybody knows that."

The only thing I shared with Supergirl was blond hair, but I couldn't suppress a small grin as I pictured myself in a skimpy costume with my fists on my hips and a red cape billowing in the wind. The letters 'DD' were large and prominent on my chest where Supergirl had an 'S'. I should probably be glad that such a caricature hadn't yet occurred to the artists at The Paper Press. They were fond of creating symbolizations and had depicted me in a variety of ways over the years.

"Look, are her clothes still here?" I asked.

"I don't know."

"Well go look in your closet. And see if any of her suitcases are missing."

While Mary hurried out I climbed tiredly out of bed and put on my robe.

"Where is she?" Susan asked.

"I have no idea," I managed to get out before Mary rushed back into the room.

"All her suitcases and clothes are there, as far as I can tell."

"Where was she when you went to bed?"

"She was standing at the mirror brushing her hair."

"Was she in her pajamas?"

"No."

"Then she probably had plans to go out and was only waiting until you fell asleep."

"She would have told me if she planned to go out. Maybe she's been kidnapped."

Have you seen any signs of a struggle?"

"Uh, no."

"If there had been noise of a struggle, it most likely would have woken someone. If she was taken forcibly, there would be signs of that effort. And you said the house is secure. Kidnappers wouldn't bother to clean up and lock the house behind them. Ergo, she left willingly."

"But why?" Judy asked.

"What's all the commotion?" Mother asked, entering the bedroom that I shared with Susan. "Why are you all talking in the dark?"

"It's nothing, Mother," I said. "I'm sorry we woke you. You can go back to sleep. Mary was just going back to her bedroom."

"Something serious must be wrong for Mary to be out of bed at this hour. I want to hear what it is. I'm still your mother, even if you are almost grown women."

I hadn't yet reached eighteen, but Susan had. And Mary was twenty. Judy was twenty-one now and legally an adult responsible for her own actions in every country I knew of.

I sighed and said, "Mary is concerned because Judy isn't in her bed."

Mary glared at me, even though she knew that someone had to tell mother now that she was awake.

"Where is she?" Mother asked, looking at me. Why did everyone assume that I knew where Judy had gone?"

"She never said anything to me about going out," I said, "but she has seemed to spend quite a bit of time with that Greek boy that's always on the beach."

"The one I called Zorba?" Susan asked.

I nodded. "Yes. I think she likes him. And he's not just looking for a rich American. His father owns a ship-building company."

"Where did you hear that?" mother asked.

"I heard him mention his father's name. And that pinky ring he wears on his left hand has to be worth five grand."

"If it's real," Susan said.

"If it's not, it's the best costume jewelry I've ever seen. And when we left the beach this morning, I saw him climb into a brand new Aston Martin DBS. Most of the boys on the beach couldn't afford to replace his rear view mirror."

"Do you know where he lives?" Mother asked me.

"No, but that car of his won't be too difficult to find. The company will probably only make a couple of hundred this year, and no more that a couple of dozen will be Cranberry, or whatever they call that color. However, I would wait until sunrise before pursuing the matter. Judy is an adult woman now."

We were still talking about what we should do when we heard the sounds of a powerful car pulling up in front. We got to the windows in time to see Judy leaning into the car on the driver's side. She had to be kissing the driver. As we watched, she pulled out and playfully slapped at the driver's hands when he reached to pull her back in. She giggled, turned, and hurried towards the house. The driver waited until she was inside, then gunned the motor and speed away in the purple sports car.

"Looks like you were right," Mother said to me. "That was a cranberry Aston Martin, wasn't it?"

I nodded. "It looked like it. It's still a bit dark out."

"Like I said," Mary said with a grin, "Supergirl. Or maybe Sherla Holmes."

"What?" Mother said.

"If Darla Anne doesn't know what's going on, she can deduce it," Mary said.

"Let's all get back to bed," Mother said. "It's still nighttime."

But before anybody could leave, Judy came tiptoeing up the stairs. The bedroom door to the hallway was open and she stopped when she saw us all looking in her direction. She had obviously been drinking, and couldn't stop giggling as she looked back at us.

"Why is everyone up at this hour?" she asked.

"You know very well why," mother said. "You snuck out after everyone went to sleep. We discovered that you were gone and were worried about you."

"Oh, Mother," Judy said waving her hand in dismissal, "I just didn't want to listen to any lectures about being a 'proper' young lady. I spent most of the sixties with my nose stuck in a book or stuck on a ranch in the middle of nowhere, but I'm not going to miss the seventies as well. I'm going to bed. Goodnight."

With that Judy turned and walked to her bedroom. Mary followed along and closed the door behind them. Mother sighed lightly, said 'Goodnight, girls,' then left our bedroom, pulling the door closed behind her.

"And that's that," Susan said to me.

"That's what?" I asked.

"End of discussion. End of excitement. Judy's home safe and sound. Time to go back to sleep."

"I guess," I said, as took off my robe and climbed into bed. "I never expected anything like that from Judy. She's always been so– so– much like Mother. Disappearing in the middle of the night is more your speed."

"Well, I like that," Susan said haughtily.

"You know what I mean. You're much more impulsive and prone to disobey the 'rules.'"

"Apparently not, since we're all awake because of Judy."

"Mad because she beat you to it?" I asked teasingly.

"Not at all. And besides– it'll make it less terrible when I do it," she said, mischievously.

I grinned, fluffed up my pillow, and plopped my head back down, hoping that I would be able to get back to sleep. I needn't have worried.

I was having breakfast with Susan when Mother arrived in the dining room in the morning. Pouring herself a cup of tea after we exchanged greeting, Mother took her usual place at the table and looked forlornly at the two of us.

"What's wrong, Mother," I asked. "Upset about last night?"

"Tell me truthfully," she began, "have I been too severe with you girls since your father died? Have I stifled you?"

"Certainly not." I said. "Judy wasn't accusing you of anything like that last night. She's just realizing that she's twenty-one, a college graduate, and essentially going to be on her own soon. She's spreading her wings, testing the waters, or whatever other cliché you like. She may not have chosen her words carefully enough because she obviously had been drinking."

"None of us have anything but love for you, Auntie, and Grandma," Susan said. "Our lives have been wonderful, and certainly more stable and rewarding than most people would have expected after the tragedy we experienced back East. It's been our decision to keep our noses stuck in a book, and we love the lives we've had while stuck on a ranch in the middle of nowhere. Stuck is hardly what I consider it, although Darla Anne and I have traveled extensively in our roles with Ameri-Moore. Don't let Judy's outburst upset you. I'm sure she didn't mean anything by it."

Mother rose from her chair and came around behind us so she could hug each of us. She knew that our comments were totally sincere. She was just straightening up when Mary came in, ahead of Judy for a change.

"What's going on?" she asked.

"Nothing dear," Mother said. "Did you get back to sleep okay last night?"

"No problem. But when I woke up again a little while ago I couldn't get back to sleep. Judy is snoring like a drunken sailor up there."

We all giggled. Judy apparently had more to drink that we suspected. We were still giggling when Grandma burst into the room.

"Darla Anne!" she said without the usual morning greetings. "I've just received a message from my office in Dallas. There's been a fire at Piermont."
I was instantly alarmed and understood her anxiety.

"Was anyone injured?" I asked so fast my words slurred together.

"No, the fire occurred in the middle of the night."

"I don't understand. Bob Warren should have called me. I gave him the number here before we left."

"He couldn't call you. The numbers were in his office desk. He called the ranch but Rosa wouldn't give out the number here. He finally called his old office in Portland as soon as they opened, and they gave him my office telephone number in Dallas. A secretary there promised to pass on the message."

"But he's supposed to be in Brandon. Why couldn't he get my number from his des–? You're not telling me that the fire was in the headquarters building?"
"In the message, Bob says that it's a total loss."

The enormity of her statement hit me like a sledgehammer. Everything, and I mean everything, was coordinated through Brandon. I would sooner see one of the plants burn down than our headquarters building. With no information to go on other than that the headquarters was a 'total loss,' my mind reeled with aspects of the disaster. It was wonderful that no one had been injured, if that was true, but the loss of all our records could cripple us. We could probably reconstruct the invoice files from copies of manifests at our producing locations, but it would be an incredible task. And how would we ever completely straighten out payments made by customers? A nightmare of potential problems expanded exponentially in my mind with each passing moment.

[*][*][*]

---

End Of Chapter Fifty-One

To Be Continued In Chapter Fifty-Two

Texas Gal-Chapter 52-Ashes, Ashes, All Fall Down By C.Sprite Posted with author permission by Stanman63! Synopsis:David is a young boy who is forcibly introduced to cross-dressing by his sisters, and their friends. The experience quickly changes his life, as he discovers what has been missing in his short life, for so long.

[-][+][-]
"And we're just hearing about it now?" Mother asked. "It's eight o'clock here, so that means that it's about what, midnight in Dallas? Why did it take them half a day to notify us?"

"The message didn't get marked urgent and it was simply included with the daily traffic that they call with every night."

"Good grief. I could have been home already." Jumping up, I said, "I have to go. I'll catch a plane to Marseille or Nice. From there I can get an international flight to Maine, and then to Albany."

"Sit down and finish your breakfast," Grandma said calmly. "You'll get there a lot faster on our jet. You'll spend the better part of a day waiting for the proper connecting flights, and you'll travel a circuitous route of unnecessary miles to get where you're going."

"But you'll need that yourself for your trip back tomorrow."

"We'll cut short our holiday by one day and all go today."
"I don't want you to shorten your vacations."

"This is an emergency. We'll make up the missing day next year. Besides, this situation is of interest to me as well."

I knew better than to argue with Grandma so I sat back down, but my mind was in Vermont. And so apparently was my appetite because I only drank tea after reoccupying my chair.

I was preoccupied on the flight back to the U.S. but I was better off than Judy, who complained of a headache the entire way. I guess it was still more proof that she had consumed far more wine then she should have, being generally unaccustomed to drinking alcoholic beverages.

We stopped in Scotland to top off the fuel tanks before making the nighttime hop across the Atlantic, and arrived in Maine while the airport was still rousing itself from slumber. A sleepy customs team arrived to clear us through, and after filling the fuel tanks, we continued on to Rutland.

Earl was waiting with the limo when we arrived. It's a good thing that Grandma was thinking clearly because I never thought to call and have him drive up from Virginia to meet us.

Everybody wanted to come with me to the site, so we all piled into the limo for the ride. As we approached the guard booth at the entrance to the property, the guard on duty quickly raised the bar and came to rigid attention, his right arm in a formal salute.

"My word," Grandma said, as she sat up in her seat so she could glance out at the guard as we passed, "who does he think is in here, the President?"
"No, just 'a' president," I said. "They always do that when I arrive at a plant."

Grandma looked at me enigmatically and leaned back quietly into her seat. I didn't tell her that I had never ordered, or even asked, anyone to salute me because I was too busy scanning the area ahead of the car.

I suppose I was expecting to see a huge hole in the ground, but in fact the headquarters building was still standing where it had always stood. My heart leaped with excitement, thinking that maybe things weren't as bad as I'd feared. But as we came closer depression began to set in again.

As the limo pulled up in front of the building, we climbed out to get a better look. An acrid smell still hung in the air after two days. I supposed that it would linger until a good rain washed down the light ash and residue that swirled silently around us in the light breeze. There were two vehicles parked there. One had the logo of the local volunteer fire department printed on the side. Beneath that it said 'Chief.' The other was a utility style truck. On the door were printed the words 'Fire Investigation Team.'

The windows had all either been blown out or melted out and the building reminded me of the skulls used in pirate movies, the windowless openings looking like empty eye sockets. Around each were the blackened scars from flames that had licked the outside during the height of the blaze. The interior had been gutted, with walls and partitions mostly gone, except where the skeletal remains of charred framework still stood. Looking up through the windows on the second floor you could see sky, the meaning obvious. Much of the roof had burned off or collapsed onto the top floor. Either indicated that the building was indeed a total loss.

A commotion pulled my attention away and I saw a group of people emerge from one of two white construction office trailers like those you always see at large building projects. I hadn't even noticed them until then because my attention had been directly on the headquarters building. They were parked well off to the side of the area where the headquarters staff always parked. Leading the group approaching us was Bob Warren. Following him was my entire staff of vice-presidents. Even Jerry DeLuca, the new VP of the Northwest Region, was here. I hadn't expected to see him again until August, when we held the first of our new bi-monthly meetings in JC.

"Boss," Bob said, "I'm glad you're here but I'm sorry that you had to cut your vacation short."

"Just confirm what I heard. All our people are safe? There were no injuries?"

"A couple of firemen were treated on the site for smoke inhalation and immediately released. None of our employees were injured."

"Wonderful. What happened?"

By now all my officers were surrounding Grandma and myself. Mother, Judy, Mary, and Susan were standing slightly outside the ring, listening to the conversation.

"All we know for sure is that the fire started on third shift, between three and four a.m. on Saturday. The two third shifts on weekends here are used mainly for maintenance so there weren't too many people on site. A few people were taking a break in the cafeteria when someone smelled smoke. Beth, the only cafeteria worker on duty, immediately checked the kitchen and determined the smell wasn't coming from there, so she called in the alarm to the local volunteer fire department. Then everyone headed quickly for the tunnel to Plant One and pulled the fire doors closed behind them."

I knew that from nine p.m. at night until five a.m. in the morning, the cafeteria only served hot and cold beverages and snacks such as cake, pie, and doughnuts. In the winter, you could also get a cup or bowl of hot soup, but that was it until breakfast was available.

"There's no one on duty at the firehouse during the night so only one alarm goes out. When the pumper arrived, the first floor of the building was involved. The senior man immediately issued a new alarm call for every department within ten miles. He feared that the plants might catch fire. They hooked up to the hydrants and began pumping water into the building, but it was twenty-five minutes before the second truck arrived. By then the entire building was involved, but they at least got the fire somewhat under control and kept it from spreading to the plants. As other trucks began arriving, they knocked down the flames, and eventually managed to put the fire out. The response was great, for volunteer departments, and enough of the building is intact so that we've gotten some information on the cause. It was arson."

"ARSON?" I said loudly. "Are you sure?"

"The head of the fire investigation team from Rutland is pretty sure, enough to request that a special arson investigation team be sent down from the capital. They should be arriving shortly."

"Why do they suspect arson?"

"According to the lead man, the fire started in the basement room where we stored all the excess office furniture and equipment. The building wasn't that old, and all the wiring was redone to meet and exceed the current code when we installed the data center. Plus, the hottest spot was away from any electrical boxes or panels. The team from the capital should be able to determine if a fire accelerant was used, and what it was, or if the fire was a delayed action type, so that the arsonist had time to escape."

"I can't believe that one of our people would attempt to burn us down," I said.

"It could have been anybody. Although we have a guard on the front gate, and one who walks patrol, the property isn't that well protected from intrusion. The gate at the front just keeps vehicles out. Anybody who wants in can come through the woods at the back of the property. The chain link fence is porous enough in a dozen places for someone to slip under or through. And with so few people working third shift on weekends, the chances of being spotted are low if the person kept to the shadows. The upper two floors of the building are locked nights and weekends, but the basement has always been left unlocked since we built the cafeteria. You could either come in through the tunnel from Plant One or the rear stairway from the yard."

I took a deep breath and thought about what he said. The site wasn't a military complex after all and we had never attempted to make it so secure that a determined person couldn't slip through. A glance at my watch told me that it was a few minutes after ten a.m.

"We can't talk out here," I said. "Let's adjourn to the Holiday Inn. They have a couple of conference rooms. I'm sure one will be available."
Both rooms were available and I selected the one I felt would give us the greatest privacy. I ordered tea, coffee, and breakfast noshes for immediate consumption and told the manager that we would be ordering lunch later.

My management team took seats in similar arrangement to the seating positions they usually occupied at the conference table in my office; my former office I should say. There were several chairs unoccupied, so Grandma slipped into the open chair at the end of the table, directly opposite from where I sat. Mother, Auntie, Judy, Mary, and Susan chose to occupy chairs around the walls. I took time to introduce everyone before we began. Bob Warren, my Executive VP, was as always seated on my left and I could see him initially trying to decide where he should address his attention, to me or to Grandma.
I relieved him of the conflict by asking, "Do you have any arson suspects?"

"None yet."

"I suppose it could be almost anybody. We've made a lot of enemies during the past four years. There are the sales people that we've blacklisted from employment with the company because they conspired with South-Core to bring their company down; both the group who left just before I bought Piermont, and the group who did the same thing to Plymouth Paper at our Concord plant. There are the three clowns who formerly owned our Greenfield plant, and the Thorehills who expected to be paid their former salary for not working or not even showing up for work after we purchased Appalachian. There are the workers at the West Virginia plant who we blacklisted after they took over the plant we acquired from South-Core, and the sales people at Mo Paper that we had to fire for conspiring with South Core. And then there's Billy Biscum, whose fraud we uncovered in Houston. As far as I know, the Texas Rangers haven't found him yet."

"Let's not forget all the people we've had to fire over the years because they were caught drinking on the job, repeatedly picking fights, or who can't break a habit of indolence," Ron said.

"And the ones who resent the fact that we haven't opened the plant in their home towns," Gerard said. "Ian told me that he informed you about that situation when you stopped in JC."

"Most importantly, we can't ignore the possibility that it was the work of either South-Core or Alliance," Bob said.

"Or someone else with grudge that we don't know even about. Perhaps someone who wants to knock us down a peg because we're getting too big," I said. "Well, we can speculate all day, but until we get some solid proof, we're just spinning our wheels. The point is that someone out there thinks they've knocked us out of the game for a while. We're going to show them that they seriously underestimated us. What kind of shape are we in, Bob?"

"We swung into action before the fire was even out. I got the home telephone number of a guy that rents construction site office trailers in Rutland and convinced him to bring us two immediately. They were brought in yesterday morning and set up. It cost us a premium because he had to bring his guys in to work on a Sunday, but it was our first step towards reestablishing some normalcy.

"Then the telephone service guys moved in and hooked up a dozen phone lines for us. I have four receptionists handling the lines in trailer #2. All of our outside lines will roll over to one of the new, temporary lines until we're straightened out. The women are explaining that we had a fire and that the switchboard is down. They tell folks that messages will be passed on to the appropriate party as soon as possible. The sales order lines automatically roll over to the toll-free lines at Owosso, Asheville, and Jeff City when a line is busy or out-of-service so we're covered there for Monday morning. The other three sales offices can handle the load until we're back up here.

"I called our IBM sales rep and informed him that the mainframe we've been leasing has been destroyed. He said that in an emergency like this, the customer receives priority positioning in the delivery queue. A replacement system can be shipped within two weeks, where normal delivery is six months.
"Gerard, Ron, and Jerry arrived this morning. We were planning our next moves when you arrived."

"What have you come up with so far?" I asked.

"We believe that while the office trailers will be useful for getting us back on track right now, their long-term practicality is limited. We would need twenty-five or more to accommodate our entire headquarters staff, and space inside would be severely limited. What's more, once the weather turns cold, they're uncomfortable. These things are drafty and poorly insulated. In the winter the cold seeps up from below you, and when the wind blows they rock no matter how well you anchor them. We must have a building. Unfortunately, office buildings are in obvious short supply in our small town. The nearest available structures that can accommodate us will probably be found in Rutland or Glens Falls."

"If we have to be in Glens Falls," I said "it's too bad that the office in our cardboard plant is so small. It couldn't accommodate more than half a dozen additional people beyond the regular staff."

"It's too bad we needed the office space at Greenfield for the boxing operation," John Fahey, my VP of Engineering said.

"And the office space at Concord has been converted for use by the bag making operation," Tom Harris, my VP of Purchasing and Procurement said.

"All of our other plants are too far away to be considered as suitable locations for a headquarters operation," Bob said.

"Let's put the office location issue aside for a minute," I said. "Once we're situated, how long before we can restore basic services?"

"Once the computer is operational, we'll be ready to resume all accounting operations almost immediately," Bill Marshall, my VP of Finance said.

"Really? I thought it would take weeks, or even months, to assemble copies of the manifests so we can resume billing now that everything here was lost."

"Everything hasn't been lost, if the people in charge followed the procedures we established back when we only had one plant. At the end of each business day, all work documents in the Accounting Department are supposed to be placed into the fireproof vault. And when we set up the data processing department, we purchased a data safe. The IBM 2311 hard drives are supposed to be removed from the drive unit and placed into the safe every night when the computer is shut down, and at the end of each week, the files are all backed up onto magnetic tapes, which are also stored in the data safe. So as soon as the new computer is set up, we should be ready to go immediately; if, as I say, everyone followed established procedures, and if the data safe and fireproof vaults retained their integrity. If the hard drives were not put into the safe Friday, then we should at least have the backup tapes."

"The fire investigation team has told me," Bob said, "that the fireproof vault in the basement, as well as the small vault room in the Accounting Department appear intact. Also, the data safe in DP and the fireproof file cabinets in the file room outside your office appear secure."

"So then other than the building, we haven't really lost anything except furniture, furnishings, and office equipment?" I asked.

"Not exactly," Tom Harris said. "All my product catalogs are gone. The companies we buy from will be glad to send me new catalogs, but it will take time to do that. I also lost all the contracts I was working on. But my most serious loss is my rolodex. It contained all the names and phone numbers of my regular suppliers plus my industry contacts. It will probably take me a year to rebuild it."

"Although all our employee files are kept in the basement vault, recently submitted resumes are gone with no way to contact the individuals," Ben Phillips, my VP of Personnel and Employee Relations said. "And I also lost my rolodex. I feel cut off from the world without it."

"My marketing people submit all received orders to the Accounting Department throughout the day, so they should be safe in their fireproof vault," Matt Piermont, my VP of Marketing said. "Customer lists are produced by Data Processing, so as soon as the new computer is up, we can print out new ones. But all design work for new catalogs that hadn't yet been sent to Bloomington for printing is gone and will have to be redone from scratch. And we also lost our rolodexes; not only mine, but those of all my sales people here in Brandon."

"I lost literally tons of technical material, current work orders, and last week's reports from my engineers," John Fahey said, "plus my rolodex."

"Notwithstanding the loss of rolodexes, we would seem to be in better condition than I expected," I said. "We are seriously inconvenienced, and it will take time to fully recover, but it appears that our core business functions can be back up quickly."

"If we can find and prep an office building," Bob said. "We'll need desks, chairs, and a telephone system for starters."

"What about the computer system?" Gerard Deveraux, my VP for the Midwest Region asked.

"IBM will see to that once we have a space prepped," Bob said.

"No, I mean what about the prep? As I understand it, computers need special temperature and humidity control systems, plus electrical considerations."
"That will probably take the most time to complete," Bob said.

"How much time," I asked.

"Possibly two months."

"We can't be down for two months," Bill Marshall said. "If we don't send out invoices and bills, collections will dry up faster than spit in the Sahara at high noon."

"We could farm out the work until we're up," John said.

"No," I said. "I'm not going to create a situation where outsiders can get a look at our customer lists and sales information. We'll have to find an office building already set up for a computer."

"That's a pretty tall order, boss," Bob said. "Computers aren't that common, and most companies that have them, also have their own buildings. They don't have to rent. We'd probably have to go to a large urban area like Boston or New York City to find a rentable building with a computer room already in place."

"If we have to build a data center, let's at least do it in one of our own buildings," Ron Collins, my VP for the Southeast Region said. "There's enough office space at Franklin for the entire headquarters staff and a data center."

"When the plant was purchased," John said, "the carpeting in the office areas had to be trashed and areas were left wide open. So there are no partitions and the floors are bare concrete."

"Partitions can be erected quickly and easily enough," Gerard said, "and carpeting can be laid in a few days. The fact is that we shouldn't be looking to rent space when we already have four locations with enough room to accommodate both our headquarters staff and a data center. In Houston we have a million and quarter square feet still available for lease; that's enough to house twenty times the staff that we have here. Like Franklin, it's wide open warehouse type space, but other than the data center, we can prepare it quickly. If we want to avoid construction altogether, we have two office buildings ready to occupy, either of which will suffice. Asheville would be adequate, although a bit tight, but Jeff City is perfect. It has four times the office space of our Brandon headquarters building, is already set up with office partitioning, is fully furnished, fully sprinklered, and it has a brand new computer room in the basement just sitting there waiting for a computer to be brought in. The room has independent heating, cooling, and humidity controls, and a raised floor. Roy Blu intended to get a computer when he began building his new headquarters, but sales started to slump before the building was completed."

"There's just one problem," Ben Phillips said. "Jeff City is twelve hundred miles away."

"Two hundred, twelve hundred, what's the difference? Both are too far for commuting."

"Who said we were going to be two hundred miles away?" Ben asked.

"Bob said that we have to go to Boston or New York City to find space with a ready data center."

"I didn't mean that we should really consider either city," Bob said, "only that it would likely be the only way we'd find office space for our headquarters staff that included a prepared data center."

"Then let's consider the issue now," Gerard said. "We already own a perfectly acceptable building with a data center. Roy Blu referred to the building as his world headquarters, and he had it built to suit that need. A third of the basement is divided into fireproof vaults for long term storage needs, and another third is devoted to an expansive data center with large storage spaces for computer forms. There's a large fireproof vault for short term storage in the accounting section, and the building is ready for immediate occupancy. All we have to do is move in."

"We can't move our headquarters halfway across the country," Ben said.

"Why not?" Ron Collins asked. "Because you'd have to move your home?"

"Because everybody would have to move their home," Ben said. "Such a move would decimate our staff at a time when we need everyone's support to get ourselves out of this mess."

"No matter what action we take, we're going to lose staff," Jerry DeLuca, my new VP for the Northwest Region said. "Although some of our staff presently commute from homes in Rutland or Glens Falls, others won't contemplate commuting from here even if we only move the headquarters to one of those nearby small cities. A permanent move can be traumatic to a family. I know of what I speak since my family is in the process of preparing for our move to Portland. But the needs of the company are of paramount importance right now. We have to get reestablished as quickly as possible. Moving the headquarters to JC is the most logical resolution I've heard yet."

"Who said it was permanent?" Tom Harris asked. "It's only for two years, until we can rebuild here, isn't it?" He looked at me as he said the last part.

"There's no sense rebuilding the headquarters here and moving again once we've settled elsewhere for two years," Ron said. "We should just put up a small building here; one that can house a cafeteria and a small accounting staff like the ones we have at every paper plant."

Until this point I had just been listening, and watching the expressions on the faces of my management team members. Both Matt and John had grown up in this town, and I knew the idea of moving had hit them harder than the rest. I could see the agony in their eyes as they thought about moving away. I'm sure they had always thought that they'd live in Brandon for the rest of their lives, once I'd rescued the ailing company. They were at the top of the industry so there'd been no reason to contemplate leaving unless they became disenchanted with the company. I decided to continuing holding my comments and let my people thrash out the topic. The final decision was mine, and I could always make my opinions known when I announced it.

Several times I glanced at Grandma, and once we'd even locked eyes for a couple of seconds. There was a strange expression on her face as she listened quietly to the debate going on around the table and I wondered what she was thinking, but my attention was quickly pulled away when Bill Marshall made a strong point that was quickly rebutted by Gerard Deveraux.

The debate continued until after one o'clock, when I called a temporary cease-fire so the hotel staff could bring in a lunch. Then we continued. Every issue, every nuance, was discussed in depth. And when the debate was over, everyone knew how everyone else felt, except me. I had maintained my silence while the issue was thrashed and re-thrashed. I called a halt at five o'clock when nothing new had been brought up in half an hour and the same arguments were being repeated and then beaten to death.

"Thank you everyone," I said. "You've given me a lot to think about. Ben, I'd like you set up a meeting with our headquarters staff for two p.m. tomorrow. Headquarters staff only; no plant personnel or family members. See if you can get the auditorium at the school, or the church meeting hall. As a last resort we can use the ballroom here, but I'd rather not be somewhere where the attendees can toss down a few drinks before we start or after we're done. No matter what the decision, someone is going to be unhappy."

"Should we have the security people on duty at the meeting?" Bob asked.

"Yes, but just to insure that only headquarters staff get in. I'm sure that I won't need protection. Gerard, Ron, and Jerry, have you arranged for rooms here?"

"Ger and I have," Ron said.

"My family is still in Concord," Jerry said. "I'll stay there until it's time to return to Portland."

"Good. Then I'll see you all at the plant tomorrow. Bob, can you stay for a while longer?"

"Of course."

"Good. Okay, everyone. Goodnight."

I prepared a cup of tea while everyone filed out of the conference room. Grandma left with the others without having uttered a word since the initial introductions. After Bob prepared a cup of coffee, we took our seats.

"Things sound better than I feared when I heard the news of the fire," I said. "I'm glad you were here. Thank you for your efforts this weekend. You must be exhausted."

"I could use a good night's sleep. Now that our recovery effort is underway, I think I'll be able to doze off."

"You avoided coming out in favor of any of the options open to us. Tell me what you're feeling."

"It's difficult. I have mixed emotions. I know that the move to JC is the logical one, but I've grown very fond of Brandon. The people are great, the mountains are beautiful, and my time here has been wonderful. I hate the idea of moving my family again. The kids love it here and so does my wife."

"You could stay."

"What do you mean?"

"We'll still need a VP of the Northeast Region."

"Are you asking me to step down from Exec VP?"

"Never. I'm offering you the opportunity to remain here in a slightly lesser capacity. I would dearly hate to lose you as my Exec VP. You've done a terrific job and I know of no one that could fill your shoes as ably as you have. But if can't see yourself moving, there is this alternative."

"Then you've decided. You're moving the headquarters to JC."

"I'm leaning that way. I'm still considering the ramifications, not the least of which is staffing. If we move, we'll need a VP here. If you're in JC, you can't properly handle that role any longer with the same degree of hands-on involvement. I was already considering creating VP positions for the forms sub-division and the construction products sub-division, and if you move we'll have to create a separate position for the Northeast Region also. You'd have more than enough to do elsewhere. The business forms sub-division is fairly static, but the construction products area has lots of room for expansion. That and expansion of the paper business into international markets is where we'll grow in future years. Bill, Ben, and Tom will have to move if the headquarters is relocated. There are no positions for them here. Even if they chose to leave Piermont, they'll have to move to where a position is available, so they might as well move with us. I hate to move people against their will, but we must consider the good of the company at this difficult time. We have to consider that Matt and John may decide to remain in their home town. Matt has enough money from his sale of Piermont so that he doesn't have to work, and he has his romance to consider. I would hate to lose him, but he doesn't have to come with us. And John can get a job anywhere. He won't have the status and paycheck that he enjoys with Piermont, but he can remain nearer to his hometown."

"There's always the possibility that Matt can remain here," Bob said. "He's been running the sales offices in Owosso, Asheville, and JC from here. As long as he has telephone service, he can continue to operate without interruption. His people outside Brandon presently Telex their sales orders directly to Accounting, and there's no reason why Brandon can't do the same. We can messenger his updated client lists produced by DP each week, just as we've been doing for the satellite offices. He'd have to travel to JC for bi-weekly meetings, as Ron and Gerard do, but he otherwise pretty much operates autonomously. And he could continue to direct the efforts of his design staff right here also. There are a couple of empty stores in town large enough to accommodate his two groups. John could likewise remain here, except he wouldn't be available when you wanted to fly off to look at a plant on the spur of the moment. While Accounting must be near the data center, John doesn't have to be at headquarters. Personnel and Purchasing should naturally remain at the headquarters."

During the meeting we had discussed the move as an 'all or nothing' relocation, but Bob had valid points. Parts of our operation were already functioning in a distributed work configuration. His idea would lessen the loss of valuable people who couldn't move, or wouldn't move.
"I like it, and it eases my mind about moving our headquarters so far away. But what about you?"

"I think that I'd like to discuss it with my wife before I give you my decision. It concerns my entire family after all."

While Bob and I were talking, my family checked into the hotel, taking two suites in addition to my usual suite that the manager had reserved for me as soon as he heard that I had arrived at the hotel. They were all sitting in my suite when Bob had left for home.

"Darla Anne, that was a most interesting meeting," Grandma said. "Do you always conduct them on such an– informal level?"

I had attended executive meetings conducted by Grandma. She always maintained a degree of control like that you might expect to find in a courtroom."
"I prefer a looser format when we're brainstorming. I told them long ago that I abhor 'yes men' and that I'll tell them when I feel they've stepped over the line, so they understand that they can speak their mind freely in closed meetings. I promised them that if they stop when I warn them, I'd never hold anything against them that was said previously. They're all friends and I've never had to warn anybody to tread carefully."

"I've told you several times over the years that your style of acquiring properties is so very different from mine, but that I couldn't argue with your success, and now I see that your management style is likewise radically different. But again, I can't argue with your success. I've never conducted an executive meeting where I felt so much passion, nor where ideas were exchanged so freely."

"Today's topic is probably responsible for the passion, but I always endorse the free expression of ideas at our weekly meetings."

Grandma smiled and nodded. "During the meeting you said very little, but never for an instant did I feel that you weren't in complete command. Respect for you was apparent in the eyes of everyone at that table. I receive such respect also, but I don't think my managers love me as yours do you. Yours work hard not because they're afraid you'll fire them, but because they want your respect and they believe that making a valuable contribution to the corporate effort is the best way to earn it and keep it. Most managers would give their right arm to command such respect."

"I suppose that my style developed out of the knowledge that I was managing people who were already professionals in their field. I knew that I couldn't, and shouldn't, tell them how to do their jobs, so I just concentrated on defining the parameters and letting them do it. My frequent absences probably had something to with it also. They've become used to doing their jobs without me looking over their shoulders."

"Whatever the reason, I was even more impressed with you today than I usually am. What are you going to do to get the company moving forward again?"
I took a deep breath and released it. "I've decided to move our headquarters to our office building in Jefferson City, Missouri, which from this day forward shall be known as the World Headquarters of Piermont Paper. The location is just a couple of hundred miles from being dead in the center of the continental U.S. so the location is nearly ideal. I'm going to rent some space in local stores or office buildings to accommodate some of the people who can't or don't wish to move, until such time as a structure can be erected on our plant grounds. The new structure will be much smaller than the building that burned."
"Do you intend to move any part of the headquarters operations back here from JC when the building is ready for occupancy?"

"No. Brandon was the location of our headquarters simply because it was the launch point for the company. The new building we will build here will mainly house a cafeteria and the plant operations office. Extra space, for those people whom I feel I should accommodate for the foreseeable future because they are necessary for the continued good health of the company, will be included, but I'll make every effort to consolidate headquarters services in JC, as opportunities give me license."

Mother, Auntie, and my sisters always held their tongues when Grandma and I discussed the Paper division, but when Grandma asked no more questions, Mother asked, "Darla Anne, have they definitely determined that the fire was arson?"

"I haven't been informed of any new findings. I'm sure that if they determine that it was arson, the police will open an investigation. If we start seeing investigators, we'll know that it was arson." When no one posed any more questions I said, "It's dinnertime. Anyone else hungry?"

During a closed door meeting with my management team in one of the office trailers the following morning, I announced my decision. An apathetic reaction indicated that they had prepared themselves for what I was convinced now more than ever was the only logical course of action to resolve the problems that faced us. I also told them of the decision to rent whatever local space we could find for the people who would remain in Brandon. I didn't attempt to pin down either Matt or John yet. I would seek their answer to a possible move when I got an opportunity to speak to them in private. Bob didn't say if he had reached a decision, and I didn't press him. I knew that he would give a hundred and ten percent during the crisis, whether he decided to come to JC or remain in Brandon.

Ben had arranged for use of the meeting hall at the church in town, so I worked on my presentation while Bob went to meet the insurance adjuster who'd arrived to examine the destruction. The state's arson investigation team was working in the burned out building, but they allowed the adjuster everywhere except the one section that was the focus of their effort. Not that I could understand what he might be looking for. The building that had been there last week was now little more than a burnt shell of its former self.

My other managers were busy on the phones, returning calls that had accumulated since yesterday morning, while the receptionists called employees and informed them of the two o'clock meeting. Except for those assigned duties in the two office trailers, everyone had been sent home. They would receive their full pay, but were subject to recall at any time so they had to be available and near a phone during all regular work hours.

At two o'clock I walked into the meeting hall just ahead of my team. Church laymen had set up seats for the audience and two tables with chairs at the front of the room. Except for the receptionists manning the phones back at the trailers it looked as if the entire staff of a hundred twenty-eight employees were seated and waiting. The noisy room fell into a silence so complete that my heels echoed as hauntingly in the large hall as if it was empty.

"Good afternoon," I said as soon as we were seated. "This weekend our company received a serious blow; serious, but not fatal– or even crippling. Our first priority now is to effect recovery from the imposed, company-wide paralysis of our accounting operations. To do that we must regain our data processing capability. In discussion with knowledgeable individuals, I've learned that if we began an intensive effort today, we could not have a new headquarters building ready for occupancy on this site for two full years. It would take that long to raze the remains of our old building, have architectural plans completed and approved, secure the necessary permits for building, lay the foundation, construct the building, complete the interior, and furnish it. But a company with seventy-two plants and locations cannot simply suspend operations for two years.

"At some of our locations we have excess space where we could set up temporary office operations. But we have none within a reasonable commuting distance. We've discussed a number of options, but every viable plan involves establishing a headquarters away from Brandon. Since we must operate from elsewhere, I've decided that the office building in Jefferson City, Missouri that we gained when we acquired Mo Paper, offers us the best alternative. It's available for immediate occupancy and meets all of our prerequisites for space and equipment requirements."

I had started off strong because I didn't intend to soft-soap the situation. I knew what an impact my decision would on the lives of everyone in the hall and they had a right to the truth. I paused while a murmur of noise percolated through the crowd, and didn't resume until it was quiet again.

"This decision was difficult, and only made after many hours of discussion, during which we examined all the alternatives. My officers and I love Vermont and its people, but we've been left little choice in this matter. The move will not affect operations in the plant here. They will continue as before, so the economic health of the area should only be lightly impacted. Brandon will continue as the headquarters for the Northeast Region, but our office personnel needs here will naturally be minimal.

"My officers feel as I do that our people are our most valuable resource. Everyone from Brandon who wishes to transfer to Jefferson City will be welcome there. The company will pay all normal moving expenses, will assist you in finding a new home, and will assist you in selling your old home.
"Even if you do not wish to relocate permanently, we need temporary help getting our operations reestablished. The company will arrange for travel and lodging, including a meal allowance for anyone who doesn't have kitchen facilities, for anyone selected to join us in pursuit of that objective. If you wish to either relocate to JC, or temporarily assist our effort there, notify Mr. Phillips no later than ten a.m. Friday. At that time we will begin processing the paperwork for all others, except the people retained for the regional headquarters, so that they may apply for unemployment benefits."
"We're being fired?" I heard an astonished voice say but I couldn't identify the speaker.

"No!" I said emphatically, then added sadly, "No one is being fired. But the loss of our headquarters building means that most of the jobs that you formerly filled here, are now– gone. I sincerely wish that wasn't the case. I love this plant, this town, and all of you. This plant formed the core of our company as we made additional acquisitions. Our entire company is named Piermont because this plant is the heart of our company. Although Piermont has seventy-two plants and locations, and I'd be lucky to name even the managers among our many thousands of employees, I can name almost everyone in this hall. When I learned of the fire, I rejoiced that no one was hurt– but then I began to think about the impact that the loss of our building would have on your lives and the community. Our company isn't just buildings, it's people too. And we're trying to do the best we can for both you and the company as a whole. We have four paper plants that produce no paper at all, while here at Brandon we operate 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. As we acquired more plants, and our capacity to produce paper exceeded sales, we did everything we could to minimize the impact on our existing plants first. We refused to reduce operations at our currently producing plants to begin operations elsewhere, even though the people in towns where our plants are shuttered have pleaded with us to open their plant. There, as we are doing here, we offered to help them relocate, either temporarily or permanently, to places where Piermont jobs were available. Relocation is about as far from an ideal solution as you can get, but it is a solution for many. Anyone here who has a spouse, or significant other, working in the plant, and who wants to relocate, can be assured that we'll find a position in the JC plant for that other individual as well if he or she also wishes to relocate.

"But anyone who doesn't wish to relocate, or isn't among the people that we'll need to continue the limited headquarters services provided here, will have to be furloughed. Furloughed employees always receive first consideration for any positions that open up in their town or anywhere else in the Piermont operation. For example, at this time there is no work for cafeteria employees, but they will be needed once a new building is completed here. So if any remain interested in employment with Piermont when we again have need for their skills, they will be immediately rehired, with a continuation of previous benefits and salary levels."

"When the new building is completed," one of the attendees asked, "will our headquarters return to Brandon?"

I recognized the person asking the question as one of the data entry operators from the DP department.

"Presently, Pamela, the plan is for the new building to house a cafeteria, a small office to support plant operations, and the regional headquarters. Data processing, as you know it, will not be returning here once we get the department set up in JC. The necessity of having a stable environment for our DP department, with its temperature, power, and humidity considerations, is a prime consideration in my decision to relocate our headquarters to Jeff City. It's not the sort of operation that you can simply pick up and move easily. And since the DP department will be in Missouri, the accounting department must be there as well. The inter-dependability of each department on others was determined before a final decision was made. Although some departments, or even sections within a department, can operate remotely, most must be in close proximity to others for our headquarters to operate cohesively."
"Will the sales office here continue?" a person who I recognized as a salesperson asked.

"A decision has not been made about that yet, Lenny. There is a sales office currently in JC, and any sales people relocating will join that office."
"Will there be any promotions for people relocating," another person asked. I didn't know his full name, only that his first name was Edward. I knew that he was fairly new to the accounting department.

"Everyone who has been with the company for any appreciable amount of time knows that we prefer to promote from within, Edward, if we have a qualified individual available. As much as I'd personally love for everyone here to relocate, I know that won't happen. Family commitments and other considerations will prevent it. So it's reasonable to assume that promotional opportunities will exist for the people who do relocate. But at this point, Edward, I can't tell you what those positions will be, or if there'll be one for which you're qualified.

"The choices are limited," I said to everyone. "You can relocate and remain in your current position, or possibly a more advanced position, or, remain here and be furloughed unless you're fortunate to be placed in one of the few jobs that will have to be filled. This move is not a capricious decision. It is necessitated by the fire."

When no one else spoke up, I ended the meeting with, "You must make your decision by Friday ten a.m. I wish I could give you more time, but we haven't got the time to spare. We must find people to fill the slots that remain empty because some people don't wish to relocate."

I knew that two and half days was not much time for a person to make a decision that would perhaps affect their entire future, and that of their families, but it was the best I could offer. We had to get the new headquarters set up and operating, and we had a lot of preliminary work to do. We had to make travel arrangements for those coming to JC, arrange for their temporary living accommodations, and plan the reconstruction of our headquarters infrastructure.
I wished that I could walk around the hall and commiserate with the people whose lives my actions were impacting so dramatically, but I knew that there might be a lot of pent-up emotions and even anger, so it was best that I just leave. As I walked out of the hall, I thought about the situation from a personal standpoint. I was facing the sure disintegration of my family as my sisters left home to follow their dreams, and now I was facing the disintegration of what I had come to see as my extended family at the workplace. It suddenly seemed like my entire world had begun to collapse around me.

[*][*][*]

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End Of Chapter Fifty-Two

To Be Continued In Chapter Fifty-Three

Texas Gal-Chapter Chapter Fifty-Three Jeff City By C.Sprite Posted By Permission By Stanman63! Synopsis:David is a young boy who is forcibly introduced to cross-dressing by his sisters, and their friends. The experience quickly changes his life, as he discovers what has been missing in his short life, for so long.

[-][+][-]
Following the meeting on Tuesday, we returned to the ranch. Over the years there had been many times when I was bored and anxious to return to the ranch so that I could be with my family, but this was the first time I could remember that I would have been content to go anywhere, simply to get away from Brandon. Once home, I wanted to play 'ostrich' for a few weeks, sticking my head in the sand as often as possible so I could try to forget about the situation in Vermont. But that wasn't possible, so on Wednesday morning I said goodbye to my family and headed for JC when the company jet arrived to pick me up. The trip to JC was just an hour and half from home. That was the one personal advantage to having our headquarters located there.

A pool car from the plant had been left at the airport for me, with the keys being left in the FBO's (Fixed Base Operator) office. The woman at the counter hesitated when I requested them. She had been told that the company president of Piermont would be picking up the keys and she looked around to see who else was with me. It was refreshing to encounter someone who didn't know who I was. In the limited circles in which I traveled, it didn't happen often. I told her to call either the plant or the office building and ask for a description of me if she didn't believe that I was the president of Piermont. She finally turned over the keys after disappearing into a back office for a few seconds and checking with her supervisor. I didn't get angry because I appreciated that they were careful not to give out the keys to just anyone.

There were two cars with the Piermont logo in the lot. The last three digits of the license plate matched the numbers on the key tag and I had no trouble with the vehicle. The other vehicle was for Bob and Bill, who would be joining me here sometime today. Earl had returned home after I left and I was fully capable of driving myself around JC for a few days rather than having him drive an all-nighter to get to Missouri in time to meet me.

The guard in the lobby was the same one whom I had met when I stopped there to meet the courier a few weeks earlier. I hadn't had a chance to check the personnel files to learn his name, but I promised myself to do just that as he came to attention and saluted me as I entered the lobby. I would have felt pretty silly returning the salute, so I said 'Good Morning', smiled, and nodded as I walked towards the elevators.

I guess that the guard in the lobby called upstairs because Ellen DeFranco, the executive floor receptionist was standing at the elevator door when it opened at the fourth floor.

"Good morning, Miss Drake," she said. "Welcome back to Jefferson City."

"Thank you, Ellen. You've heard the news, I'm sure, that this is to be the new headquarters of Piermont Paper?"

"Yes, Ma'am. Mr. Phillips called yesterday. Everyone here is very excited."

"I wish it were happening under different circumstances. I'm as distressed over the loss of so many jobs in Brandon as I was when we had to furlough the headquarters employees of Mo Paper."

"Yes, ma'am. That does diminish our excitement a little, but I know a few former employees who will be delighted if offered the chance to return to work here."

"Mr. Phillips will be contacting former personnel first once we determine our needs."

"Yes, Ma'am. Can I get you anything? A cup of black tea, with milk and honey, perhaps?"

"That would be nice. Thank you."

"I'll bring it to your office. You remember the way?"

"Yes, thank you."

I followed the same corridors to the office that we had followed the last time I was here. The way was lined with doors of solid Oak stained to a Light Honey finish, surrounded in frames and trim coated with black, glossy paint. Thick and thin accent lines in various colors traveled along the wall near the ceilings, in places dropping to the floor at irregular angles. My association with the lumber business had given me an appreciation of wood products, and an understanding of quality wood material. Roy Blu certainly hadn't spared any expense in the executive suite and the wood products in evidence were made from the best product available. The carpeting was a royal blue, and seemed to get deeper and thicker the closer I got to my office. I wondered if the color had been selected because of Roy's name. Whether it had or not, the color schemes of the walls, carpeting, and accents worked perfectly.

When I came to the gleaming, raised brass letters that spelled 'President,' I knew that I was at last at my office. It seemed farther than it had the last time, perhaps because I walked slower to appreciate the construction. My outer office was just as I remembered it, with eight visitor chairs just waiting for occupants. I had never had to make a visitor wait for me at Brandon, perhaps because I had so few and because I was there so seldom.

The inner office was also just as I remembered it. Twice the size of my office in Brandon, it seemed large enough to get lost in. I had checked out the outside deck on my last visit, and I took the time now to examine my bathroom and small kitchen. The conference table could seat sixteen comfortably in the heavily padded swivel chairs waiting there, and probably double that number if normal straight-backed chairs were substituted.

In the past I had spent so much time sitting and laying on the sofa in my office that the informal area of my office tugged at me to inspect the sofa and chairs. I know that some people love leather sofas, and they are exceedingly easy to clean and maintain, but I find them generally uncomfortable. The black leather sofa in my new office was top quality, but I determined to either replace it or supplement it with a comfortable fabric sofa at my earliest opportunity. There was certainly room to add another sofa, or even six more if I so chose.

A knock at the door signaled Ellen's arrival and I said loudly, "Come in." Ellen entered, looked around to identify where I was, then brought the tea to where I was sitting. As she placed the tea on my coffee table I wondered how long it would be before the surface was so covered in trade magazines that a cup wouldn't fit there.

"Is there anything else you need, Miss Drake?"

"Not right now, Ellen. Thank you. If Mr. Warren and Mr. Marshall arrive before I finish my tea, please send them in. After that I'm going to take a walk through the building starting with the basement."

"Yes, Ma'am. I'll tell them when I see them."

"Thank you, Ellen."

My tea had cooled considerably by the time I finished it. I'd been hoping that Bob and Bill would arrive before I went exploring, so I'd sipped at it very slowly. I'd spent the time thinking about the problems of getting the new headquarters on line.

Ellen smiled at me in acknowledgment as I arrived at the elevator bank and pressed the button to summon a car. As the door opened, I moved towards the car and almost bumped into Bob Warren as he was coming out.

"Bob, welcome to JC," I said before noticing that Bill Marshall and Gerard Deveraux were about to follow him out. "Hi Bill. Hi Ger. Welcome all."

"Hey, greeting is my job," Gerard said smiling. "This is my region after all."

"Hi boss," Bob said, "Ger decided to come out with us in the G1 and then fly up to Owosso tonight or tomorrow," Bob said.

"Great. I was just about to take a tour, starting with the basement. Did you want to grab a coffee first?"

"No, I'm good," Bob said. "We must have drank three pots on the way out. Having the galley immediately behind the cockpit keeps the aroma of freshly brewed coffee uppermost in your mind when you're flying." Smiling he added, "Bill kept my mug filled the whole way, so I was able to satisfy my caffeine addiction."

"We've lived on the stuff since Saturday morning," Bill said. "I'll probably sleep for a week when I wean myself back to my normal consumption."

"Then you'd better stay as you are until this headquarters operation is established," Gerard said jokingly.

"God, by then I'll have a case of coffee nerves that will keep me shaking like San Francisco."

"I hope that it won't take that long," I said. "I'm counting on being up and running within thirty days."

"It all hinges on IBM and their delivery of the new computer system. And their ability to get it set up quickly so they can turn it over to our people. I contacted them yesterday and told them to ship the new system to us here."

"Has Stan given any indication of his plans?" I asked.

"He'll definitely come here to work until we're set up," bob said. "We'd be in a real mess if we lost our DP Director before we got the department back up and running. As to whether he'll relocate, he hadn't decided before we left. He might want to see if he likes the city before he makes a commitment. He's unmarried and rents his house, so there's nothing to keep him in Brandon now."

"That's fair," I said. "Under the circumstances, I'd want to see where I'll be spending a good part of my life before I moved there. Shall we begin our tour?"

Descending to the basement, we stepped out into near darkness. Other than the light provided by the elevator car, just one dim light, reminiscent of emergency lighting, lit the corridor near the car opening. Fortunately, Gerard had been down here before and he managed to locate the light switch quickly. Florescent lights in the corridor began to flicker on until it was as well illuminated as the hallways on the top floor. A long, wide corridor stretched out in front of us, while another led to the left and a third led to the right.

The corridor to the left eventually brought us to a door marked 'Power Room - No Admittance.' It was locked, but Gerard, as Midwest Regional VP, had picked up a set of master keys during his last visit.

Inside, the monotonous hum of heavy-duty machinery filled the room. We looked around the enormous room briefly but there wasn't much to see except pipes, boilers, and control panels. Another door near the back led to an electrical distribution room. Again the room was filled with a hum, but this time it was the sound of power transmission.

As we retraced our steps back up the corridor, I stopped at the only interruption in the wall between the elevators and the power room.

"Is this another elevator?" I asked Gerard, while pointing at polished steel doors.

"Yes," he said. "It's a freight elevator."

Pulling out his keys he inserted one into a small panel that would normally contain a button for the elevator and turned it. The door opened to reveal a darkened interior. As he stepped inside and flicked a switch on the car operation panel, the interior lights came on. The car was huge. Where the entrance doors to the regular elevators were perhaps three-and-a-half-feet wide when open, the entrance to this elevator had to be six-feet wide at least. And the interior looked to measure eight-feet square with a ceiling height of ten-feet.

"After a half-hour of non-use, it comes here to the basement where it sits until summoned by someone with a key. The shaft is close to the loading dock at the rear of the building, so that makes it easy to move furniture or equipment in and out."

My curiosity about the doors satisfied, we continued up the corridor past the two passenger elevators until we encountered a door marked 'Records Storage.' It was locked, but again Gerard was able to open the door with his keys. Inside, we found a large room with several empty, heavy-duty utility tables. On the far wall was what looked like a bank vault door. If it had been locked, we couldn't have opened it with dynamite, but fortunately all Gerard had to do was turn a large wheel that looked like something from a ship, a large ship. The action retracted steel bars inside the door that locked the door and sealed it tight. Gerard and Bill then tugged on it until it swung away to reveal a cavernous storage room that was virtually empty. The concrete ceiling in the room, supported by massive concrete posts, had to be twelve feet high, and the far wall had to be a hundred feet from where we stood at the entrance. Along each wall on both left and right sides of the storeroom were half a dozen steel doors. We discovered that each led to another storage room, albeit considerably smaller than the main room. They were probably designed to further separate records for different departments or sections. Only one of the smaller rooms, whose steel entry door was locked but yielded to Gerard's keys, contained file cabinets and cardboard boxes of records on steel shelving.

"This doesn't make sense," I said. "The door where we entered appears to sit at the point where the building's foundation should end. So this area would seem to be outside the building's framework."

"That struck me as odd also," Gerard said, "when I first saw it, so I checked the building plans with the senior engineer over at the plant. This storage area is completely outside the building foundation. It actually sits under the grounds and parking lot in front of the building. That's the reason for the massive concrete columns. If the building here caught fire and collapsed, it still wouldn't endanger the records storage. You'd simply have to dig down and break through the concrete roof. Of course, it will probably take you a week to get through this roof unless you use dynamite."

"Good God," Bob said, "what was Roy Blu afraid of, a nuclear attack? Nobody builds like this, except maybe the government– or perhaps the casinos in Las Vegas– or the big banks in New York."

"One thing is for sure," I said. "We needn't ever worry about losing anything stored in this area to fire."

"If the Russians ever attack," Bill said grinning, "I'm going to find a reason to work late down here. Maybe we should fill one of the smaller rooms with food and water."

"The trouble is, the door locks on the wrong side for this to make a good fallout shelter," Bob said, getting into the spirit of the banter.

"It doesn't have to be locked," Gerard said. "You can just pull it closed and seal it. There's a wheel on the inside that will engage or disengage the steel bars in the door. And if the door is locked from the outside, you can still get out."

"But why is this area so large?" I asked. "You could store the records of a thousand companies in here."

"Roy Blu certainly wasn't stingy with space," Gerard said. "He envisioned this as his world headquarters, so perhaps he wanted to impress visitors. He did seem to go overboard in everything associated with this building. Look at your office size; you could hold a small convention in there. Bob's office is about the size of your office in Brandon, and the other offices sizes are definitely– generous. Or perhaps Blu simply wanted to insure that he only built his headquarters once as his company grew."

"Impress visitors?" I said. "With what, his waste? I don't need an office as large as our aircraft hanger in Brandon. And this storage room, as magnificent an engineering feat as it is, will remain mostly empty as far as I can see." I paused to sigh. "Okay, we've determined that we have a wonderful fallout shelter. Let's look at the rest of the space in the basement."

"The only thing left is the DP department," Gerard said. "There's the computer room, a data entry room, an office section for the programming staff and operations managers, and rooms for forms storage and peripheral operations."

"How is it for space compared to what we had at Brandon?" I asked.

"No comparison. The space here is at least three times what we had before."

"Figures," Bill said.

"He definitely had grandiose plans," Bob said. "But he was just a bit short on sagacity. That's why four of the paper plants we acquired in the Mo Paper buyout are still shuttered. I can't imagine what he was thinking when he purchased them. I wonder what he paid for them. Whatever it was, it was too much."

"Since we bought the company, and not just the assets," Bill said. "I'm sure that information is contained in our records. Remind me once we're set up again and I can look it up for you."

Since it had never been utilized, the data processing area was pristine. Gerard hadn't exaggerated when he said it was at least three times the space we'd had in Brandon. I would have put it closer to four. It was another example of Roy Blu allocating more space than was necessary, or perhaps it was simply poor planning. My understanding of computers was that they continued to shrink in size with each new generation. I had seen pictures of the first computers, built for the military in the 1940's. Their vacuum tube processors, far less powerful than the average computers of today, consumed entire buildings. Subsequent generations shrank the size tremendously, while increasing capability. The invention of transistors allowed a giant leap forward, and the current crop of computers, with solid logic technology made the first transistor models as outdated as dinosaurs. The way things were goings, people would probably be carrying computers around in their pockets or pocketbooks one day.

After finishing in the basement, we continued our tour with the first floor. In one office section we discovered a crew of salespeople busy at work on the telephones. We received a few surreptitious glances as we walked through their area, but no one challenged our right to be there.

In the Accounting office on the second floor, half a dozen people were industriously working in one small section. They were the people handling the paperwork for the JC plant. Roy, generous to a fault with space in the office building, hadn't allocated any at the plant for the required accounting effort. Messengers carried a steady stream of paperwork back and forth between the plant and the headquarters building as employee timekeeping records, product orders, shipping manifests, and packing slips were prepared by the small staff here. We encountered another vault door, but this one only secured a fireproof room about ten by fifteen-feet in size. It was for overnight, secure storage of documents currently being processed, and for bookkeeping items used daily, such as ledgers.

The third floor, devoted entirely to office space, was completely deserted. Fortunately for us, it was also completely furnished and ready for use. We finished our tour on the top floor, and I had an opportunity to see all the offices reserved for the top executives. Roy had remained true to his generous use of space there. The office for the Executive VP was, as Gerard had said earlier, as large as my office in Brandon had been. It was located in the Southeast corner of the building, and while only half the size of my new office, it had an outside deck comparable to mine. In Brandon, the office of the Executive VP was directly next to mine, so Bob could pop over in a few seconds. Here, the walk through a maze of corridors would probably take several minutes.

If Roy Blu's intention in building this headquarters had been to impress visitors, I would say that he succeeded. I was certainly impressed by the size and grandeur of the building. But it was probably one more reason why his small company foundered. In his defense, I'm sure it was designed, and construction begun, while he was still riding high from Appalachian Paper's downward slide towards oblivion. I felt a momentary twinge of guilt for being the one who'd absorbed his small empire, but it passed quickly. I hadn't set out to do him in, as South-Core had, just as I hadn't created the system that perpetuates the business jungle law of 'eat or be eaten.' It was true that, as with the situation in the Northwest, I had taken advantage of another's economic woes, but I hadn't intentionally caused the woes. I merely beat someone else to a casualty whose doom was assured in the international economic game. It was just Parker Bros. Monopoly, played on a global scale. But in this game, real lives were dramatically affected.

Ellen brought a freshly brewed pot of coffee to my office while I heated water for tea in a small tea kettle I discovered in my kitchen. She also provided the teabags, milk, and honey. I found a little sugar and several coffee mugs in a kitchen cabinet.

During the hours that followed we allocated space to each headquarters department. The Accounting Department received the entire second floor, even though it consisted of far more space than they required. Entire sections would be sealed off until needed. Nearly two thirds of the third floor would remain vacant and sealed, even after the Purchasing and Personnel Departments moved in. Space was allocated for Matt's Design Department, but I didn't know if they'd ever occupy it. Since we had so much room, we even assigned offices on the top floor to our Regional VPs for those times when they were at the headquarters building.

Before Ellen left for the evening, I asked her to make reservations at a nearby hotel that she recommended. When we finally wrapped up our discussion we drove to a 'surf and turf' restaurant Gerard had visited previously. The food was excellent.

On Thursday I contacted a realtor who specialized in rentals and arranged for him to send me a list of available furnished apartments in the area. I also collected information from local hotels and motels and negotiated rates if we leased blocks of rooms. Bob arranged with Ian for the loan of a few people from the paper plant. They moved desks and office equipment from the third floor to the previously empty Data Processing Department. He also had an engineer from the plant verify that electrical service would meet the demands of the new IBM mainframe and ordered a new data safe. The one at Brandon wouldn't be of any use if it had successfully resisted the effects of the fire, and certainly couldn't be used if it hadn't. Bill spent his day laying out floor plans for accounting so that people were grouped according to their job functions. Gerard took an early flight to Owosso. I don't know where the day went, but the hours slipped away.

On Friday, Bob and I drove around the city to check out the available hotel/motel establishments. A few, the ones that looked like the kind of places that rent rooms by the half-hour, were immediately crossed off my list. The ones that passed the drive-by test were subjected to a room inspection. If they passed, they were rated on a sliding scale from livable to preferable. I still didn't know how many of our people were coming, but we had to be prepared. After lunch we drove around and looked at the neighborhoods where furnished apartments were available, striking off those that didn't meet my criteria. The effort helped give me a good 'feel' for the city. I had Bob stop at a former apartment complex that had just 'gone condo' when I saw an 'open house' sign in front. They were selling studio, single bedroom, and double bedroom units. The double units each had two baths, with both bedrooms listed as 'master' size. The complex was located in a nice neighborhood, had plenty of underground parking, an indoor pool, and a sauna. Bob and I toured the open apartment, spoke briefly with the sales agent, and took offered literature which listed the units still available and the condo rules. The price on the double units was $45,999. It seemed a bit stiff, but I had to remind myself that it was 1972 now and I couldn't expect to find 1960's prices.

Bill spent his day working alongside the people from the plant that had worked with Bob on Thursday. They reconfigured the desks and office equipment on the second floor according to Bob's prepared floor plans.

On Saturday, Bob, Bill, and I were discussing moving arrangements when Ben called from Brandon. I put the phone on speaker so we could all talk.

"Good morning, Ben," I said. "How's it going in Brandon?"

"We're making progress, DD. The arson team completed their work yesterday and turned the building back over to us so we can begin recovery of our data files. There's a huge crane in the parking lot that will be used retrieve the fireproof file cabinets from outside your old office. The top floor is too badly damaged to get the cabinets out in the normal fashion, so John hired this crane from the local junkyard. It has a huge electromagnet that will literally lift the file cabinets out through holes in the roof, once they're widened a little. Then it will lift the data safe out of the data processing department once holes are made that give it a clear upward path."

"What about the files in the vaults?"

"Greg Lissum, our Comptroller, has had people working inside the upstairs vault all morning. The door was jammed, but John and his guys got it open somehow. Then Greg took over. To reduce contamination, the people in the vault are sealing everything in plastic boxes before bringing it out. Greg's in the vault, personally supervising the work to make sure that everything is itemized, stored properly, and sealed with tamper proof tape. As the boxes come down, they're being placed into a truck that will leave for JC as soon as it's loaded. John wants to clear both vaults before they start weakening the structure further to remove the file cabinets and data safe. The basement vault appears to have suffered little damage, but he wants to shore up the hallway ceiling before they begin work down there. We want to make sure that nobody is injured by falling debris."

"Yes, definitely. Safety first. We can wait an extra day or two."

"Actually, we can't. There's a hurricane coming up from Florida. It's expected to hit in two or three days. We have to get the stuff out as soon as possible because parts of the structure might collapse in high winds and even get flooded out since it's open to the elements."

"Then we'll pump it out and clear the rubble out after the hurricane passes. No one was seriously hurt in the fire and I don't want anyone hurt in the data recovery effort. Tell John I said 'safety first.'"

"Okay, boss. Safety first."

"Ben, have you got a list of the people that plan to relocate?"

"Uh, yeah, but it's a short one. Only six people have signed up to move to JC."

"Six? Just six out of a hundred-twenty-eight?"

"That's it so far."

"Good lord," I said. "I'm almost afraid to ask who signed up. Please tell me that it's not just the cleaning crew and cafeteria workers."

Ben chuckled. "No, we got lucky. Our DP Director, Stan Clark, is one, and Greg Lissum is another. It makes sense because neither man will find a comparable job in this area with headquarters gone, and so will have to move anyway. The others are two accounts clerks, a data entry clerk, and your executive suite receptionist, Nancy Pollack. All valuable members of the team."

I felt a little better than I had a minute earlier, but only a little. Six people out of a hundred-twenty-eight wasn't a very good average, but asking people to overturn their lives and move a thousand miles from home with less than three days notice was a bit much to expect.

"Yes, you're right. At least we'll have a solid core from which we can begin to rebuild our headquarters staff."

"I do have some good news. I signed up thirty-three people from those who expressed interest in temporary employment in JC. As we discussed, I didn't accept any receptionists or secretaries unless they had special involvement with our systems that make their regular skills more unique and valuable. Most of the temp people coming to JC are accounting clerks. With this help we should be able to reconstruct everything and get the systems rolling again. If we can infuse some new workers in with them, we'll be in decent shape when the Brandon group complete their temp assignments and return home."

"Yes, that is good news."

"When do you want them to arrive?"

"The data processing people aren't needed until the equipment arrives from IBM. Everyone else is needed as soon as possible. From what you've said, it sounds like we'll have the files from the vaults in a couple of days, and we should start receiving new paperwork from the plants on Monday. Bob said that he notified the post office to forward all mail here, so we'll need people pretty quick now."

"Okay, I'll make arrangements to send them out on a Tuesday flight. A number of them want to drive out so they have a car available. I've agreed to give them mileage reimbursement, up to the cost of a airline ticket. I'll telex you a list on Monday with the names of who to expect. Have you arranged for housing?"

"Bob and I spent yesterday working on that problem. Since we didn't know who or even how many would be coming, we didn't finalize any arrangements. We'll do that Monday, once we have your list."

"Sounds good. As soon as I have access to the files in the vaults I can begin contacting workers furloughed after we bought Mo Paper to see if they're interested in returning to work for Piermont. If they are, I'll set up interviews. If not, I'll place ads in the local papers and advise employment agencies that we're hiring."

"Great. Good work, Ben. We'll look forward to seeing you out here next week?"

"Okay, DD. Have a good weekend and don't work the entire time. You'll need stamina for next week when you get deluged with people who have to be settled into an unfamiliar city."

"Okay, Ben. You'd better get some rest also. We don't want you getting sick on us. We need you too badly right now."

"Right, boss. See you next week."

"Well, some good news and some not so good," I said to Bob and Bill as I hung up the phone.

"It's going to be a real chore training new people to handle all our systems," Bill said. "We've had enough experience retraining people to use our reporting systems when we've acquired new plants to know how badly people can screw up even the simplest forms. The people we had working for us at Brandon were great at detecting errors in submitted data. We're going to have to set up some additional data checks for a while, to lessen the errors that slip past new people during this transition."

"I'm a little disappointed that we only have six people relocating," I said. "I was hoping that we'd get at least ten percent of the hundred-thirty-eight."

"We may get more," Bob said, "once they have a chance to see the city. I've found myself warming to it more each day."

"Have you made a decision yourself?" I asked. Bill knew what I meant so I didn't explain.

"I'm ready," Bob said, "but I told my wife it's up to her. I've loved this job, and I'd hate to give it up, but I can't be selfish. My wife is weighing all the input, from both of us and from the kids. Naturally, the kids don't want to move, but we have to consider that they'll begin leaving the nest in a few years as they head off to college. And Jeff City definitely offers them better educational opportunities as they move into high school. The Brandon schools are good, but the smaller population there limits what coursework the high school can offer."

"Okay, Bob," I said. "I'm not going to push you. You know how much I'd like you stay on as my Executive VP, but I understand what you're going through on the home front."

"Thanks, boss."

"Okay, so we can expect the data from the vaults early this coming week. What do we do with it?"

"The files from the basement vault can go straight into our basement vault here," Bill said. "We just have to verify that everything arrived, that no tampering took place during the trip, and then organize it in one of the storage rooms down there. The files from the upstairs vault will also be checked, first for tampering, and then for completeness. Then it can be spread out and assigned to the people who normally handle it so we can begin processing. At the same time, we'll have new material arriving by mail and messenger. That will enter the regular work flow. The bottleneck will be data processing. As soon as we have data entry people we can send our data for keypunch and verification, but then the cards decks will sit there until the computer is up."

"Yes, I know," I said.

"Our IBM sales rep wanted me to upgrade our system," Bob said. "Since we're getting emergency positioning in the delivery queue, we could get the newest hardware now, rather than waiting for a normal delivery position. But I was afraid that there might be some compatibility problems with new hardware, so I opted to get an almost exact replacement for what we had."

"Almost?"

"I ordered a high speed printer to replace the slower unit we had. It's shouldn't affect the system adversely, and we'll get substantially faster throughput."

"Have we outgrown our system?"

"Not yet, but we're heading in that direction. The 360 series is incredibly slow compared to the new 370 systems. The unit we'll be getting is actually a refurbished computer, formerly leased by a customer who upgraded. They no longer produce the older models."

"You made the right decision. We can't change horses in mid-stream. If we need a system upgrade, order the new system to establish a delivery position. We'll be back on track long before we have to face compatibility issues that could cause processing delays. The computer room is so large that we can run two systems simultaneously until we're sure that the new system is as dependable as the old."

"That room is large enough to place four systems," Bill said.

"Let's take a planned conversion into consideration when we establish positioning of the hardware," I said. "Leave the most accessible space open for the new machine. The one we'll be getting now can go into the back of the area."

"Right," Bob said.

"Well, I can't think of anything else we can do before we have the files, equipment, and people to do it," I said.

"There is something that occurred to me while Ben was on the phone," Bob said.

"What's that?"

"He said that Nancy Pollack has declared her intention to relocate."

"Yes. Do you have a problem with Nancy?"

"Not at all. It's just that we already have an executive suite receptionist with Ellen DeFranco. We don't need two."

"That shouldn't be a problem, Bob. Pick one to be your secretary. Such a position has to be considered an upgrade so the individual shouldn't be displeased. And whomever you pick can sub for the executive suite receptionist when the desk would be uncovered."

"Both have good personalities. Which has the better secretarial skills?"

"I know that Nancy is skilled. I don't know if Ellen would make a good Executive VP secretary. Pull her personnel file and check her background. When you've made a decision, offer the job to the candidate. Unless you'd rather not have either one."

"Either would be acceptable, if their work is accurate."

"Nancy is fast and exceptionally accurate. I haven't had occasion to use Ellen for secretarial work. Why not give her some typing to do on Monday and see how she fares?"

"Okay, I will. I have some notes on the fire. I'll give them to her to type up for me."

"Uh, perhaps you could find something else."

"Why?"

"We haven't yet acknowledged that the fire was arson. I'd like to keep the water cooler talk about it to a minimum for a while."

"If you say so, boss. But this could provide us with a good opportunity to see if she can keep information private. The fact that arson is suspected as the cause will be released soon anyway."

After rethinking my position I said, "Okay, Bob, let her do it. But to be perfectly fair to her, remind her that any information she overhears or reads in the executive suite must remain in the executive suite. This information would make juicy gossip, so if it then makes the rounds before the fire officials release it, we'll know that we can't trust her in the future."

Sunday afternoon found us back at the office building. We hadn't scheduled a work session; it just wound up that way. I was working at my desk when the phone rang.

"Hi boss," I heard Bob say. "I figured you'd be in your office. Busy?"

"Just working on plans to house our people when they arrive this week," I said.

"Mind if I drop over?"

"Never."

"Okay, I'll be there in a few minutes."

I had time to prepare another cup of tea before Bob arrived. A light knock at the door preceded his entrance.

"Good afternoon," he said as he entered. "Gorgeous day, isn't it. It's the kind of day that makes you forget all your troubles."

"It is nice," I agreed as I glanced out the window. "Want to sit on the deck?"

"Sure."

I picked up my tea and walked to the glass door, but I couldn't get the latch to release one handed. I stepped back and let Bob do it. He was carrying his coffee mug, but he had better luck. There was a hexagonal wrought iron table on the deck, painted white, with six wrought iron chairs. I guess that Roy Blu used it for small conferences. The chairs each had thick, comfortable cushions. I set my tea down on the glass surface of the table and took a seat that allowed me to look out at the horizon. Bob took a seat two places over that allowed him an excellent view as well. Since the deck was on the corner of the building, there really wasn't a bad seat at the table. Even one that faced the building offered a good view with just a turn of the head to the left or right.

"Greg Lissum called Bill this morning," Bob said. "Once they got the basement vault open they worked non-stop with rotating groups until everything was out. The first truck from Brandon should arrive tomorrow. It's coming straight through, with a two car escort. The stuff loaded last came from the basement vault, so we have to get through that to get to the current stuff, but that's no problem. We want to get it into the basement vault here as soon as possible anyway. Greg will be flying in tonight so that he's ready to direct the unloading whenever the truck arrives. I've made arrangements for a second guard to be on duty here whenever the building is open. Because the staffing was so light, all deliveries came in the front, but now that we'll have a lot of people coming and going, deliveries, other than hand carried materials, will only be accepted at the loading dock at the rear of the building. We'll need a second guard so we don't have to pull the one away from the front lobby. It'll mean one less guard at the plant until Ben can replace him, but they always have at least three on duty anyway."

"You said 'the first truck from Brandon' is arriving tomorrow. How many trucks are coming?"

"Just two. The first one is a tractor trailer and only has records. The second is a long single body. It has files loaded in the front, and is carrying your fireproof file cabinets and the data safe from the Data Processing Department at the back. John decided to leave the safe intact during the shipment to guarantee the protection of the contents. We won't open it until the new safe arrives and is placed in our new DP area in the basement. There's an area on the loading dock inside the building where we can put it until then. It only has a five by five footprint, so it won't be in the way."

"Good. I'll rest a lot easier when our files arrive and are safely stored in the vaults here. I'm pleased that you and Bill were so farsighted as to establish proper disaster recovery procedures. We'd be in fine mess if the data was lost."

"I just hope that everyone followed the procedures," Bob said. "We won't know for sure until we actually get things flowing again and have a chance to examine the information."

"True. The human factor is always the weakest link. Maybe we should have a disaster preparedness inspection a couple of times a year, to make sure that people are following procedures. I realize that this new building is fully sprinkled, and is safe from any flood short of the one that Noah endured, but other things can happen, such as tornados, earthquakes, etc."

"That sounds like a good idea. It might help keep people who think we're being overly concerned, from taking shortcuts."

"I'll plan on making that proposal at our first meeting after the present crisis is dealt with," I said.

"Uh, I spoke with Helen last night. Actually, we were on the phone for about an hour."

"Problems at home? Are the kids okay?"

"Everyone's fine. We were discussing whether to stay in Brandon, or come to JC."

I nodded, but didn't reply.

"Neither of us really wants to move. We've been happy in Brandon. But in talking I realized that a lot of my happiness is because of the role I've had in helping to shape the company's future. If I stepped down, I'd feel less involved, and subsequently feel less happy. The weather is a bit milder here than in Brandon, and that's a consideration, but we'd be further from my family. I think you know that I'm originally from Maine. Lastly, my wife dislikes city life and prefers a smaller community, so Brandon has been ideal. But JC is nothing like Portland. It's a city, but doesn't have that big city feel or attitude."

Again I just nodded, allowing Bob the time to explain his decision, whatever that decision was.

"So we've weighed all the pros and cons and come to a decision. Helen will call the realtor we brought the house through and list it for sale tomorrow. I'll get an apartment until we can find something here."

I smiled. "I'm glad," I said. "It just wouldn't be the same without you. I feel a lot better now, knowing that you, Bill, Ben, and Tom will be remaining with the company and continuing on at headquarters."

"It's too bad that Matt and John won't be here."

"Have you heard something?" I asked.

"No, I'm just assuming that they won't move. They have far closer ties to Brandon than the rest of us. I'd be very surprised if they decided to move."

"You're probably right. From a personal standpoint, Brandon is a terrific area, but from a corporate standpoint, there are some minor compensations by having our headquarters more centrally located in the continental U.S. Ron is two-hundred miles closer and Gerard will save almost a hundred when he comes here. Jerry is now eight-hundred miles closer to headquarters, so he'll be able to attend our meetings at last once a month now instead of every two months."

"There are other compensations as well."

"Are there?"

"Yes, most definitely," Bob said. "We had about outgrown the old headquarters building, and would have had to consider either an addition or a new building. Now we have enough room for many years of growth. This building is ideally suited to being our world headquarters without any hint that we'll suffer from lack of space."

"That's true."

"And it's not only more centrally located in the U.S., it's near the most congested area of Piermont's industrial base. In the event of a serious problem, I can travel to any plant in the Midwest or Southeast Regions in far less time than if we were still in Brandon."

"Also true. But losing most of our headquarters staff and having to reconstruct our accounting systems is a stiff price to pay for the gains; not to mention the disruptions in the lives of our people."

"Yes. If the intention of the arsonist was to disrupt our operation, and quell your acquiring additional resources for a while, then I'd say he succeeded. If the intention was only to create a major headache for us, then I'd also have to say he succeeded. If it was anything else, then I have to reserve judgment until I know who did it and why."

"Based on the order of your surmises," I said, "it would appear that you believe either South-Core or Alliance was behind the deed."

"Well, it was the one-year anniversary of your last problem with South-Core. Maybe it was their way of celebrating the last time they attacked us."

"If it had to be one of them, my money would be on Alliance. South-Core still hasn't fully recovered from the last drubbing I gave them."

"Which might be all the more incentive for them to strike at you and us now, when people would be less likely to suspect them. We know that they certainly haven't forgotten or forgiven."

"Perhaps," I said.

"But you think Bobby De Forest is behind it?"

"I wouldn't actually go that far. But, strictly within the confines of the parameters you established, I would have to answer affirmatively. He has to be upset that we acquired fifteen paper plants he was intent on gobbling up at– forgive the expression, fire-sale prices."

"But would he go so far as to become involved in a serious crime to assuage a bruised ego?"

"Mrs. Moore has told me that some people, when they reach the level that he has, begin to believe that the law can't touch them. They believe that their lawyers can protect from any allegations, or even criminal charges. He wouldn't be the first to resort to illegal activities when he couldn't legally acquire what he felt was his due. Maybe he believed that we'd suffer financial difficulties that would force us to divest ourselves of properties that are, at best– marginal."

"Assuming that he was behind it, do you think that he'll be satisfied, or should we expect more troubles?"

"Your guess is as good as mine," I said. "Was this intended as a single attack, or is there an entire campaign? I think we should hope for the former, but be prepared for the latter."

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End Of Chapter Fifty-Three

To Be Continued In Chapter Fifty-Four