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    Business As Usual
    Business As Usual
    Business As Usual
    Ebook260 pages4 hours

    Business As Usual

    By Linda Wisdom

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    About this ebook

    As acting director of Fantasy Toys, Drew Sinclair faced more than the usual problems of putting the company back on its feet. Working under her was Casey McCord, the man she had once loved and lost. How would Casey react to having her give him orders? And how would Drew keep her head when just the sight of Casey sent her blood pressure soaring?

    The answers to those questions would be very private business indeed.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherLinda Wisdom
    Release dateNov 21, 2014
    ISBN9781310380471
    Business As Usual
    Author

    Linda Wisdom

    Linda Wisdom has published more than 70 novels with 13 million copies sold worldwide including traditional, paranormal, humor, action/adventure romance, and romantic suspense. Her bestselling books have been nominated for Romantic Times awards and the Romance Writers of America Rita Award. She lives with her husband in Murrieta, California.

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      Book preview

      Business As Usual - Linda Wisdom

      Business as Usual

      by

      Linda Wisdom

      A Joyride Books Linda Wisdom Classic Romance

      * * * * *

      PUBLISHED BY:

      Linda Wisdom on Joyride Books

      Business as Usual

      Copyright © 2014 by Linda Wisdom

      Smashwords Edition License Notes

      This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author's work.

      * * * * *

      Business as Usual

      Chapter One

      A muted roar like a tiger's purr followed the sleek black Ferrari as it moved down the tree-lined street and turned onto a boulevard facing a park. The driver's shoulder-length, honey-blond hair danced loosely in the wind, alternately masking and revealing her delicate features. Her amber eyes, shaded by oversize sunglasses, were supposed to be looking straight ahead, even though there was very little traffic on the road at that early hour. However, they kept straying toward the large park, where several joggers could be seen. Her brain wouldn't accept the fact that she might be looking for one particular jogger. Then she saw him.

      He was running just ahead of her and to the left; he was tall, with the body of a man used to regular exercise. His tawny-blond hair was plastered to his head, a silent testament to his early morning workout, and drops of sweat clung even to his neatly clipped moustache. A pair of dark green nylon athletic shorts hugged his well-muscled body, and a matching bandanna was tied around his forehead in an attempt to keep the sweat from dropping into his eyes. His bronzed muscular chest gleamed brightly in the early morning sun.

      The moment the woman saw the jogger, her body jerked slightly and her foot hit the accelerator harder than she had intended. A squeal and the smell of burning rubber permeated the air as she shot down the road. The jogger paid her no notice.

      Twenty minutes later the woman parked the Ferrari in a slot marked D. Sinclair. She flashed a smile of greeting to the guard at the door and walked briskly across the lobby toward a bank of elevators. After getting off at the top floor, which housed the company executives, she made her way down the cream-colored, plushly carpeted hallway to the last set of doors, which were guarded by a large secretarial desk. She walked through the ornately paneled doors and placed her soft leather briefcase on the teak desk, then paused to look out the huge picture window. No one else would be in the building for at least an hour, plenty of time for her to get in some extra reading. There was so much for her to learn! She dropped into the high-backed soft leather chair and opened one of the desk drawers.

      When Drew Sinclair had taken the position of temporary executive director of Fantasy Toys two months ago, she hadn't realized the extensive work that would be involved. Hard work had never scared her before, though. She thrived on it the way plants thrive on sunlight. That was how she had become an expert in her field. She was a troubleshooter, working with companies that required a shot in the arm to get them back on the road to excellence.

      The pile of folders in the drawer had slowly dwindled as she studied each one carefully to familiarize herself not only with the company, but its employees, as well. Only one folder could safely remain unopened, or could it? If she studied it as carefully as she had the others, she might find out something she hadn't known before.

      Drew rummaged through the personnel folders and extracted the one marked Carstairs Langdon McCord. She looked at the name typed neatly on the label and smiled. Poor Casey, saddled with such a ponderous family name. She slowly opened the folder and began reading, although she already knew most of the information.

      Thirty-seven, six-feet-one, four years in the Navy before obtaining a B.S. degree in engineering from M.I.T., he had worked as a mechanical engineer until three years ago, when the influx of new engineers combined with fewer available jobs had meant layoffs. Casey had turned out to be one of the victims. More than willing to change fields, he had worked for the Sundance Novelty Company in Boston as part of their sales force, until Fantasy Toys, here in San Diego, recruited him as a regional sales manager. He was presently their director of sales, with a vice-presidency in the offing, judging from his outstanding work record.

      Drew knew so much more than the dry information recorded in the files. She knew that his actress mother had traveled to Montana to work in a film years before, met his father, a cattle rancher, married him and never looked back to her glamorous former life. Casey had grown up in cattle country, but had no love for ranching. His love was tinkering with machinery and working with his hands, not with the land, After deciding to learn more about his first love, he had applied to and been accepted at M.LT. He was ambidextrous, enjoyed classical music and dinners for two, and hated large parties, loud women and rock concerts -although, just once, he had overlooked that dislike. She knew that he preferred to shave with a blade rather than an electric razor, and what he looked like without his clothes.... She shook her head quickly to chase away her disturbing thoughts of the man in question while she dosed the folder firmly.

      Don't you ever sleep?

      Drew looked up at the sound of her secretary's exasperated question. The woman standing before her placed a coffee cup, with the proper amount of cream added, in front of her.

      I'll try to do some sleeping next year. Drew smiled as she picked up the welcome cup and took a sip. Urn, I needed that. Still holding her cup between her palms, she leaned back in her chair. What's on the agenda for today, Viv?

      You're meeting with the department heads at nine thirty, which will probably take all morning; you have a luncheon meeting with Mr. Wilson from Legal; and Mrs. Thornton would like to talk to you sometime this afternoon if you're free. I penciled her in at three. You also wanted to see the Christmas ad layouts if they were ready. They'll be delivered sometime after lunch. Not to mention that this is also the evening for your exercise class, if you're so inclined, and if you have the energy left to walk out of here. The gray-haired woman looked at Drew over the top of her glasses. If you don't feel that's enough to occupy your day, I can fit in a few more people.

      Drew wrinkled her nose. What do you say we run away to Tahiti, find ourselves a couple of good-looking beach bums and build ourselves a grass shack? she asked flippantly.

      When Robert Redford asks me, I'll go. Until then you'll just have to make do with the handsome men around here, the secretary returned pertly. And speaking of handsome men, Casey McCord would like to see you this morning before the meeting.

      Don't let the memories intrude, her brain warned her. She shook her head. No can do, she said firmly. If he needs to see me, tell him I'm free sometime tomorrow morning. Or am I? She raised a questioning eyebrow at the woman who ran her office so competently.

      Viv laughed. For him, I'll make room. She gestured toward the stack of envelopes on Drew's desk. I've already made notations on the ones that need your immediate attention.

      Oh, Viv, what would I do without you? Drew breathed a sigh of relief. Though she had only been at Fantasy Toys a short time, already she didn't know what she would do without the efficient woman. From the beginning the clear-thinking secretary had been her savior in times of crises. And the crises just never seemed to stop as each day passed and Drew became more involved in her work.

      Commit hara-kiri? Viv smiled. Any dictation this morning?

      Drew looked shocked. And when would I have time for that, pray tell? she demanded, mischief in her heavily lashed amber eyes. Personally, I think that's why you keep me on such a heavy schedule. You figure if I'm busy with all these meetings, I won't have any free time to put you to work.

      You got it, Viv agreed cheerfully as she walked out of the office.

      Drew finished her coffee, wincing as the hot liquid burned its way down to her stomach. All I'd need right now is an ulcer to go along with everything else, she muttered, putting the coffee aside so she could concentrate on the mail.

      When Marty Watson had called her into his office ten weeks earlier and told her that she was finally going to get her chance to prove her worth on a large-scale project, she hadn't realized what would be entailed. CHEM Corp., a conglomerate, had purchased Fantasy Toys when its owner had died and the heirs had decided they could do without the burden of running the company. That it was in financial trouble had been obvious, that it needed a firm hand, equally so. Drew was to step in as executive director for Fantasy Toys, study every piece of paperwork she could discover, and deliver her findings to the board before the end of the year. At that time a new executive director would be appointed, probably one of the vice-presidents within the company, and Drew would be sent to a new assignment. That gave her a little less than ten months. In the eight weeks she had been there, very little of the information she had seen on paper was encouraging. The sales figures might continue to rise, but even they couldn't compensate for the rapidly rising costs of labor and materials, or rising salaries. All these factors combined could very easily run a company into the ground. Preventing that was Drew's job.

      It hadn't helped to find that the department heads didn't appreciate a woman coming in to tell them how to run their company. Drew wasn't one to remain low-key for very long, and she had immediately taken steps to let them know that. Like it or not, she was there to get their company back into shape. In a job like that, feelings were taken into consideration, but the company came ahead of anyone's damaged ego. They were determined to make her odd woman out, and she was equally determined to do the job she had been sent there to do.

      Ready to face the lions in their den? Viv's voice intruded on her thoughts.

      Drew smiled briefly. Not really, but I guess now's as good a time as any. They'll do their best to smile paternally, pat me on the head and talk in that obscure masculine language that we women aren't supposed to understand. Where did Colin Wakefield dig up all these old chauvinists, anyway?

      I think they all belonged to the same Edsel club. The older woman smiled reassuringly. She knew her boss would go in there and let them know who was in charge. Drew packed quite a wallop. Because she was short, and built on slender lines, she tended to look more delicate than her steel-covered spine would ever allow her to be. People often tried to patronize her until she set them straight on the matter. No one could keep Drew Sinclair down for long.

      The oval heavy oak conference table was surrounded by the various department heads, and, as Drew had expected; they looked on her as a little girl who should be playing house instead of office. All except one.

      The blond jogger she had passed on her drive to the office sat near one end of the table. His well-toned body was now covered in a pale tan three-piece suit and a sapphire-blue shirt teamed with a complimentary tie. Even the tawny-colored hair was now tamed. When he smiled his moustache twitched slightly, as if he were secretly amused. When he gazed down the polished expanse of the long table, that same smile hovered on his lips, although it didn't quite reach his tawny-colored eyes. Jungle cat eyes, Drew used to call them. Eyes that could turn a dark burnished gold when he was angry, or warm to the color of flame when he was passionate. Either way, he was dangerous. He was a man who looked as if he could fit equally well outdoors or in an executive office. That he was good-looking was an understatement. That he exuded a virile masculinity and was sexy as hell was only a portion of the truth. That he was a man's man as well as a woman's dream come true said it all.

      Drew presented the men with a bright smile and sat down. Good morning, gentlemen. Shall we get started? She spoke in a low voice that carried clearly along-the length of the table.

      Mr. Landers, I believe you have a report for us about a new doll to be introduced for Christmas, she said several hours later. It had been a grueling meeting, and she was glad this was the last item on the agenda.

      John Landers, a short stocky man in his early fifties, looked aggrieved at having to report to a woman.

      Tandem Plastics is raising their prices thirty-five percent as of the first of next month, he informed her abruptly, after spending a few minutes discussing the doll.

      Exactly what products do they furnish us with?

      Drew asked crisply.

      Sheet plastic for the dolls, and some of the accessories for the stuffed animals, he continued in a droning monotone guaranteed to put his audience to sleep instantly.

      I certainly hope that our sales figures are rising to meet this increase, Mr. McCord. Drew's voice was its deadliest when it sounded the sweetest. She might have looked like a pushover in her coral wool suit and ruffled white silk blouse, but many men knew differently ... one in particular. Her sugar-and-spice exterior hid a spine of fine tempered steel and a temperament to match.

      Casey's eyes were cold golden chips in his face.

      They were until the Toy Faire stores cut their orders in half, he announced in a deceptively mild tone.

      Drew's smile froze. The burning sensation in her midsection wasn't helping her composure one bit. When did you find this out? she asked quietly, still smiling with her lips, but not her eyes.

      This morning, the moment I got in.

      Then I suggest we go into this in more detail. She rose to her feet, silently indicating that the meeting was over. She intended to find out why Casey hadn't given her this information sooner.

      The men rose to their feet and filed out of the room, except for Casey, who remained in his chair. Drew walked over to Casey and perched herself on the edge of the table.

      Why wasn't I told about this earlier? she demanded, barely able to keep a tight rein on her temper.

      Casey absently stroked his moustache as he tipped his head to one side and looked up at her. You were busy, he said, reminding her none too subtly of her abrupt refusal to see him before the meeting.

      She drew a deep breath. All you told Viv was that you needed to talk to me. You said nothing about this, she retorted tersely.

      I told Viv it was important, he said crisply. I figured that was enough.

      Damn it, Casey! Drew slammed her palm down on the table. She hadn't liked learning about this in front of the department heads, and she was going to tell Casey just that. Is this part of some scheme to make me look like a fool? Because if it is, you're doing a wonderful job of it!

      Next time, allow me to enter the inner sanctum when I request an audience. He grinned suddenly, the action drawing her attention to the rugged features that had attracted many a woman's glance his way.

      We've lost fifty percent of an excellent account, and you sit there and laugh? She ground out her accusation. I'm sure you realize how much of a loss you're talking about.

      I told Fred Travers, our top sales rep, to pull out all the stops and talk Jack Simpson of Toy Faire into not only returning to his usual standing order but increasing it by fifteen percent. If all else fails, I'll step in, but I feel Fred can handle it more than competently.

      Drew raked her fingers through her hair as she experienced a sense of deep relief. No matter what, she knew that if anyone could handle this problem with a minimum of fuss, Casey could. Then why did you have to give me a coronary with your announcement of doom? she demanded, wishing she had a pitcher of ice water to dump over the arrogantly smiling man.

      Because there are times when you need to be reminded that you're human, just like the rest of us. Casey stood up and glanced at his watch. I don't want to keep you, Ms. Sinclair, since I'm aware that you have a luncheon meeting. I'll have a report on last month's sales figures on your desk this afternoon. He walked out without a backward glance.

      Drew should have known then that the rest of her day wouldn't go any better. What had happened to the small prospering toy company of a few years ago? The word she kept receiving wasn't good.

      That evening she just barely made it to her exercise class in time. An hour and a half later she was limping out to her car. A half hour after that she struggled to hobble through the back door of her town house.

      Drusilla, is that you, dear? a woman's energetic voice called out.

      Drew winced at the use of her full name and slowly made her way into the living room.

      Kick out your boyfriend, Aunt Kate; I'm home! she managed weakly, flopping down in a chair and kicking off her shoes. I don't intend to move from this chair for the next ten years, she muttered, her head resting against the back.

      Why do you punish yourself with those classes when you come home so tired out? Kate asked with concern.

      Are you kidding? Drew laughed wryly. This is great for my health, if it won't kill me first. She stretched her legs out in front of her and winced. I think I'm too old for this, she groaned.

      Too old my foot; if that actress can do it, you certainly can. Kate's blue eyes twinkled. With her silver hair cut in short curls and her angular features, she presented the paradoxical picture of youth after sixty. The least I can do is pamper you this evening and bring your dinner in here.

      Drew grimaced as her sore muscles protested the slightest movement. I hope it's something light. I had a fairly heavy lunch today.

      The older woman's eyes narrowed. It's all this pressure you've been under these past few weeks, she announced. If you keep up the way you've been going, you'll get an ulcer, if you don't already have one.

      The food was too spicy, that's all, Drew protested. Kate's motherly lecture on stress and the effect it had on a person's health was interrupted by a high-pitched sound from a corner of the room.

      Hello, Drew; hello, Drew.

      She smiled and pushed herself to her feet, then walked over to the large square cage where a gray cockatiel hopped excitedly along its perch.

      Hello, Shadow, Drew greeted. The bird as she opened the door and watched the cockatiel climb out onto her arm, his yellow crest standing high in the air.

      Hello, Shadow, he piped back. Hi. Then he began a series of high-pitched whistles, slightly off-key.

      Drew smilingly shook her head. What's this supposed to be? She turned to Kate, who had just reentered the room carrying a tray of food.

      The older woman cocked her head to one side in concentration. Hard to tell. I think it's the theme from one of my movies. I don't think he can tell any of them apart.

      Drew rolled her eyes upward. Kate's avid interest in her videotape library was well known, including her penchant for watching certain films over and over again. It was difficult for anyone to imagine that the serene-faced grandmotherly woman standing before her preferred science fiction and horror thrillers to the more sedate films of the I940s. You'd think after hearing the music so often he'd at least get the tune right.

      Kate shook her head in disagreement as she set the tray on a nearby table. Why should he? A tone-deaf bird is more of a conversation piece.

      Kiss Casey! the bird squeaked. Kiss Casey! Drew divided her accusing glare

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