Message-ID: <14735eli$9808281531@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: From: "Bill Morgan" Subject: {Morgan} NEW: Six-month Turnaround 6/16 M/F Rom. lite sex Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d Content-Type: text/plain Path: qz!not-for-mail Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam Approved: X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded X-Story-Submission: X-Original-Message-ID: <19980824172340.15367.qmail@hotmail.com> Author's note: If you are looking for wall-to-wall sex, look elsewhere. This book is a romance with a business setting. Beyond that, the sex is comparable to - or less than - what one would find in almost any work of popular fiction. Permission is granted to post on any free site, as long as the copyright statement is included. Please advise the author of any such postings. Comments are welcome and encouraged. Please address me at morg105829@aol.com. I hope you enjoy the book. My plan is to post a chapter each weekday; it will take about three weeks for it all to be up. This is chapter 6 of 16. Six-Month Turnaround Copyright 1992, 1998 by Morgan. All rights reserved. Chapter 6 Cliff didn't see Sandy at her desk when he got to the office Monday morning. He smiled to himself, figuring he had worn her out. He felt very tired but wonderful. Sunday had been a physically exhausting day. She had been variously joyful, impish, questing, loving, funny, romantic, and, it seemed, all possible combinations of them. The one thing she had never done was take herself seriously after her first disclosures. He had returned to his own apartment late Sunday night. Going into his office he found Sandy sitting with her coffee, waiting for him. There was a steaming cup of coffee waiting for him on his desk. He stopped abruptly when he saw her. "How did you know I would be here right now?" he asked in surprise. "A bird at the gate told me," she answered with a warm smile. "Cliff, I'm worried about you. You look worn out. I was reading an article last night that said girls reach their peak of sexuality at sixteen or seventeen, while men do at nineteen. Now I've been saving up for nearly ten years. You, on the other hand, are over thirty! Honey, are you sure I'm not too much for you? I would hate to see anything happen to you." While the tone of her voice was very serious, he could see the impish laughter in her eyes. Cliff rolled his eyes to the ceiling. "As if it isn't bad enough in a planning session, now I have to get it in the bedroom, too! These damned kids get one thing right and it goes to their heads. Everybody's got to be an expert!" He grinned at her. "Seriously, Honey, how do you feel? You look absolutely fabulous. But how in hell can you look so good with so little sleep?" "I feel so great, it's sinful! Now I know why Jane reacts the way she does when I kid her about never getting any sleep when Steve Muller's around." She changed the subject. "I've got a couple of bankers coming in today. May I bring them by to give them the thrill of meeting our new president? It would really make their whole day, I'm sure. I'm starting to talk with our major banks as we discussed, so I wanted to check with you to be sure we're both on the same page. We intend to pick a single major bank to be our primary bank. It will get essentially all of our business. We're going to combine the five or six relationships into a single one. Cliff, I thought I would explain the idea to each of them, spell out what specific services we require, then leave the rest up to them. I'll ask them to get back to us with a specific proposal laying out what they expect from us, and what they propose to provide to us, most particularly including a line of credit. How does that sound?" He looked at her thoughtfully and responded in his most serious voice, "About what I would expect from the girl I love who's going to be the mother of my children. Speaking of which, might that process have started yesterday?" Her face saddened, "No, worse luck! I heard somewhere that birth control pills help in bust development, and I've been trying! I hope you noticed that the dress I wore Saturday night didn't fall off even once!" The phone on Cliff's desk rang, and Sandy picked it up. "Mr. Fitzpatrick's office, Miss Donnell speaking." She listened for a moment and grinned. "He's in his office. You may put Miss Simpson on." She was making excited motions, obviously relishing the telephone one-upmanship Cliff hated. "Just a moment, Miss Simpson. Mr. Fitzpatrick will take your call." It was all Cliff could do to control his laughter. Not only was Sandy speaking in her haughtiest voice, but she was going the full route, putting Stephanie on hold. He picked up the phone and punched the line button. Quickly he held the phone out at arms length as Stephanie screamed into her instrument, "Clifford Fitzpatrick, don't you *dare* do that to me again! You be on the phone when I pick it up, do you hear!?" Cliff ignored the outburst. "Hi, Steph. What's on your mind so early Monday morning? I'm surprised you're in the office so early." Her voice tone suddenly changed. Now she sounded like a little girl. "Cliffie, I missed you! Didn't you miss me? I was thinking about keeping you warm Saturday night, but you didn't even call. What were you doing?" "Steph, I'm glad you called. I was out Saturday night with the young lady I'm planning to marry. Obviously, it wasn't you. I'm sorry to have to tell it to you this way, but I guess I don't know an easy way to do it." He yanked the instrument away from his ear, prepared for the explosion to follow. He wasn't disappointed. "You *what*!" she screamed. "You can't do that to me! I won't allow it! Daddy won't allow it! Why that's... that's the dumbest thing I've ever heard. No one leaves me! No one! I won't stand for it!" They could both hear her start to cry - and they were obviously tears of rage. "I'm sorry you feel that way, Stephanie. I was hoping we could remain friends." He rolled his eyes to the ceiling as he said the last words, and Sandy almost choked trying to control her laughter. "There's nothing more to say except good bye. So good bye." He hung up the phone before she had a chance to respond. A few moments later the phone rang again. Sandy picked it up. After identifying herself, she listened for a moment and then said, "I'm sorry. Mr. Fitzpatrick is in conference. He is not available to Miss Simpson. Good bye." She looked at Cliff fondly. "Am I to interpret that statement as a proposal of marriage? When you said you were out with the girl you intend to marry? If so, I accept. These days, where proposals are concerned, a girl has to take whatever she can get!" "Sandy, will you marry me?" he asked. "My God! I can't believe it! Do you realize I only met you two weeks ago today, and yet I've never been as sure of anything in my life as I am about wanting you to be my wife?" She got up from the chair and went to him. He took her in his arms and kissed her softly. At least it was intended to be soft. Their love for each other just flowed between them. "Of course I'll marry you, Cliff. You have made me the happiest person alive. But I don't think we should make it official until after October 1, if that's all right with you. "I'm a little concerned about that girl, though. She went berserk! Is she in any position to cause you trouble? I mean, can she sue you for breach of promise, or palimony or something?" "Sandy, I give you my solemn word - even though you don't need it - I have *never* spoken of marriage to that girl in my life! I think I told you that she introduced me to some of her friends as her fiance, but I never talked marriage to her and never used the term. I can honestly say I thought I loved her until I met you. Then she just went in the tank. "And as for you, young lady, I have some bones to pick. First, it was nasty to play telephone games with her. It hurt her feelings. Although the way you did it was as good as I've ever seen. The other thing is, how did you know I didn't want to speak to her when she called the second time?" Sandy held her head up and spoke in the same haughty tone she had used to Stephanie. "I beg your pardon? A wife is certainly within her rights not taking calls for her husband from his former mistress. I mean... really!" Sandy left for the ladies room to change into her "treasurer's suit." Twice during the morning she brought in bank calling officers. Cliff noted that one of the major Chicago banks had sent both a senior vice president and a vice president and it was obvious they were impressed with Sandy. When the senior vice president asked if he could speak with Mr. Fitzpatrick alone, Sandy and his associate went back to her office. "Mr. Fitzpatrick, I just wanted to tell you how impressed I am with your new treasurer. I understand she's new in the job, but you certainly couldn't prove it by me. She's as knowledgeable as any treasurer I've ever met. My bank intends to make a major commitment to Murphy to get your business. Had your former treasurer, Mr. Purcell, still been in that position it would have been out of the question. We like to think we offer superior banking services to superior corporations. Obviously, there are limited avenues available to us to form such judgments, but one is the quality of the treasurer. If the treasurer is not handling his company's money wisely, you can appreciate we're not very interested in giving him some of ours to mishandle, too. We are very impressed with what Miss Donnell has accomplished in just a couple of weeks. I hope you will select us as your primary bank. We want your business and my colleagues and I are going to put together what we expect to be a very attractive proposal to get it." Cliff saw from his business card that he represented Bank of Chicago, one of the nation's largest banks, and his name was Thomas P. Morris. "Mr. Morris, thank you for your very kind comments about Miss Donnell. With your permission, I would like to tell her what you said. I'm sure she will be very pleased to receive such praise from a senior executive of a bank such as yours. Beyond that, I can't make any promises. I will say two things, however: First, it's clear you understand what we're looking for in a primary banking relationship. There are some bankers who don't seem to understand the concept. Second, I appreciate your comment about preparing a very competitive proposal for us. Knowing your reputation, I'm sure it will be a very good one. I'm looking forward to seeing it, and thank you for saying what you did." After showing them out, Sandy changed again and came into his office. "Sandy, that was great!" He told her what Morris had said, particularly stressing the importance of the quality of the treasurer to the bank. "Honey, you hit a home run! You were brilliant!" They were about to go down to eat when they heard a commotion out front. Suddenly, the door burst open. It was Stephanie. "Clifford, you bastard!" she screamed. "Who do you think you are!? You can't just tell me it's all over! *I* decide when it's over!" Sandy started to leave, when Stephanie grabbed her by her blouse and ripped as hard as she could. The cotton blouse was shredded from her body. "I'll just bet this is the little bitch," she sneered. She swung on Sandy, but that was as far as it went. Sandy ducked, and the force of her swing caused the bigger girl to lose her balance and fall on her face. As she hit the floor, a security officer ran in followed closely by two Milwaukee police officers. They had seen Stephanie swing at the taller girl as they came in. One of the police officers was a woman who took Stephanie in hand, putting her in handcuffs with her hands cuffed behind her back. If anything, this enraged Stephanie even more. The officer escorted the girl out of the office, screaming obscenities, while her partner shook his head. "What was that all about?" he asked. Sandy was standing wearing only her bra and shreds of her blouse. It didn't appear to bother her in the slightest. "Officer, that was Mr. Fitzpatrick's former girl friend. She's from Chicago. This morning she called Mr. Fitzpatrick who told her their... relationship... was at an end. Clearly, she's not used to taking no for an answer. She appeared a few moments ago, stormed into the office screaming at Mr. Fitzpatrick and then swung at me. I think you saw her try to hit me as you arrived. One thing you should know, officer, for your own protection: She's the daughter of the chairman of Ajax Industries. I wish to press charges for assault and battery and anything else I can cool her off with. I am Sandra Donnell, by the way. I am Mr. Fitzpatrick's assistant and treasurer of the company." "Miss Donnell, how long have you known the other woman? What's her name, by the way?" "This is the first time I've ever laid eyes on her! I'm not sure if I've ever spoken to her. Wait! I spoke about five words to her on the phone this morning. I think that's all. Her name is Stephanie Simpson." The officer took down the information and took statements from other people in the office. She went and changed clothes and returned to Cliff's office. He looked concerned. "Sandy, I'm sorry about that. It was totally uncalled for. And I just sat there like a lump while she swung at you. Are you okay?" She smiled and said, "I'm fine, except she owes me a new blouse. Good heavens! I just realized I was standing there with just my bra and some shreds of blouse. What will people think!?" "Several things," he said, seeming to be thoughtful. "First, don't mess with you... you're too quick. Second, you have a beautiful body. But anyone with eyes knew that, too. Third, they would see more of you in a bathing suit. Okay? What do you think we should do now? About Stephanie, I mean. Are you going to prosecute? I think you should, and I think we should ask for a peace bond from her. It keeps her away from us." "I guess I will prosecute," Sandy said. "I'm curious about one thing, though. How many guys has she gone through, do you suppose?" Cliff was startled by the question. "I don't have a clue," he finally answered. "But why do you ask?" "Darling, there's one thing about that girl that worries me. I think she always got whatever she wanted. Always! Today she really went berserk. I've never seen anyone so totally out of control. You may have been the first person ever to tell her to buzz off." Then she smiled, "With me it's different. I've been told to buzz off, drop dead, go play with someone else, make way for a *real* woman, etc., etc., more times than I can count. Maybe that's why I am the way I am with you. I love you so damned much I'll do anything to keep you. I think you're making a big mistake, but I'm working as hard as I can to keep you from opening your eyes." He realized she was deadly serious. He was awed. She was such a wonderful person, yet she refused to believe it. He decided he was one of the luckiest people in the world. "And you're doing a good job. If you keep it up, my eyes will never open. Whenever I'm away from you, I'll be sound asleep. Wench, you are insatiable!" "Can I change the subject?" Sandy asked. "What about the sessions with the stores? We're supposed to start that on Wednesday. Incidentally, you've got a rare treat in store. You'll meet JL Wilson. He's from Charlotte, and is really one of the good ol' boys. The best way I can describe him is to say John Flood hated his guts, and JL didn't like Flood nearly that much. Incidentally, he really is a true Southern boy. His name is 'J' 'L'. If he were in the service, it would be written in quotes. It's 'J' for nothing and 'L' for nothing. There's a lesson here, someplace. He started work for my uncle... or my father, I guess. JL is a guy with intense personal loyalties. Whenever I see him, which isn't very often, I am reminded that his ancestors - commonly referred to as poor white trash - were the backbone of the Confederate army. If you are their friend, they can't ever do enough for you. On the other hand, don't *ever* cross 'em. They can be implacable enemies. "Incidentally, I hear that some of the accountants are getting very upset about the analysis being done on the rings and valves. They're about to cry at the thought of losing revenue. I hear the numbers are pretty devastating, though. Do you want me to do anything?" "Yes, I do," he replied, "But not about that. I think I'm going to make use of your young legs, starting on Wednesday. We old men - you said earlier today I was over the hill - have to get our rest. Seriously, Sandy, I've never seen anyone do a better job than you did last week leading the discussion on strategy. Would you work with me and help run the sessions?" "You are serious, aren't you? I would love to, Cliff, but I can't. I don't know a thing about it!" "Young lady, if there's one thing I can't stand, it's a girl who's always fishing for compliments! Your figure couldn't be more perfect, but you keep saying it's ugly and inadequate. Now, after costing me a small fortune for a dinner and an ex-girlfriend, you try to act like you're incapable of doing it. Sandra Donnell, you are the best damned natural-born leader I've ever met. That's the end of the compliments for at least the next hour, or until I want a kiss, whichever comes first." He grinned at her, and she came over, took his face in her hands and kissed him. He smiled at her and continued, "That's what gives women in business a bad name. Just when you make a great point, they come up, sexually assault you, melt you down to warm mush, and then walk away. No, damn it, I wasn't kidding! I'm using you, so you'd better be well rested. You're going to be on those little feet for quite awhile, beginning Wednesday morning! Hear?" * * * On Wednesday morning, they were back in the same hotel room. Cliff thought wryly they were also back to the same cold cuts for lunch. Many of the participants were the same, but there was a new group representing the Stores Division. Cliff began with the same introduction. Then he turned the session over to Sandy who began with a matrix of competitors by region of the country. Cliff admired the way she handled herself and handled the group. It was a replay of the previous week. But because she knew the people, she was much better than he was at inducing participation from the people in the room. A bleak picture quickly emerged. JL Wilson and his boys in the Southeast were doing a fine job. The rest of the country was break-even or worse. The company had been dealing with the stores as if they were a single entity, and it was obvious they were not. The competitive situation was dramatically different from region to region. The Southeast - roughly starting at North Carolina, then swinging southwest through South Carolina, Georgia, Alabama, and Mississippi, and west through Tennessee - seemed to be the only part of the country in which Murphy had a viable retail presence. The problems in the rest of the country appeared to be either or both of two types. Either there were a significant number of stores - the Northeast, for example - but not nearly as many as better positioned competitors, or isolated stores that couldn't be supported well from the warehouse or with affordable local-market advertising. Cliff addressed the situation. "Business strategy is closely allied to military strategy. I think what we're seeing here is an armored division that's been broken up into little pieces and scattered along a very wide battle line. We have a lot of troops, but they're so spread out they can't be effective. In fact, in all too many of the areas we're terribly exposed. We have isolated outposts. At each, there are nowhere near enough troops to attack, and not even enough to adequately defend. We just sit in place and hope the other guys leave us alone. If they don't - if competition in any of these markets intensifies - we're in trouble. Worse yet, in looking at these market areas I see a number of them where there are two or three much more important players who look like they're about to disrupt the status quo. "We're getting ahead of our story, but it seems we are competitively weak in most of the markets. Moreover, there are several in which a couple of competitors have been rated Strong. Many of you were here last week for the discussion of competitive position. For those of you who weren't, a Strong position is one in which two or more competitors have a sort of shared dominance. You remember the worst possible position to be in is to be Weak when there are Strong competitors. There are people who would have you believe that when the big guys start to fight, the little guys just stand aside and watch. Unfortunately, the world doesn't work that way. When the elephants start to fight, some mice accidentally get trampled. And I mean accidentally. The big guys are going after each other, not the little guys. Unfortunately, the activities they initiate to take business from the other big guy generally results in killing us first. It has happened in the last few years in both the beer and coffee businesses. What about it folks? What do you think we should do?" Steve Muller spoke. "If I understand all this, what we have to do is concentrate our efforts. To follow your analogy, we've got a bunch of little outposts that are too weak to support us, and too far out for us to support them. We have to bring them in so we can get some market impact somewhere. It seems pretty clear to me." Cliff saw Jane, Sandy, Bill, and a few others nod agreement. Jeff Stover, the company controller, spoke up. "Wait a minute!" he said. "If I understand what you're proposing to do, you're going to chop off nearly half our sales and a good chunk of our profit. We lose a lot more in sales than we do in profit, of course, but we're still going to lose a good deal. Cliff, we can't afford it!" "Thanks, Jeff. You have just raised a very interesting point. Do you have the store financials with you, by any chance?" Stover said he did. "Okay, let's take a look at the Western Region. Steve says it's a good area to sell off." Then Cliff used a flip-chart sheet to construct a simplified profit & loss statement. He recorded data for the preceding year, starting with sales. He then subtracted cost of goods and store operating expenses to get an operating profit number. From this he subtracted a series of below-the-line costs including transportation, advertising, and general & administra tive expenses. The final line, profit, was a positive number. "See, Cliff," Stover said, "It's not a lot of money, but it's certainly something. Why should we give it up? I'll concede we're not in good shape out there if someone comes after us, but they're not doing it now. Why don't we just leave it alone and keep our fingers crossed?" "You make good points, Jeff. But let's take a look at these numbers, particularly the ones below the line. First, let's recognize we're talking allocations, not hard numbers. It's not a criticism, it's reality. To the Board and the shareholders it ultimately makes no difference. The costs are real and they're charged against revenue. But in planning, it *does* make a difference. The total may be accurate - and I'm sure it is - but the assignment to divisions can be wrong. Let's look at transportation, Jeff. How is it as signed?" "We take our total transportation bill and prorate it against sales. How else could we do it? We can't take every stinking bill of lading and assign it to a region. It would take forever, and would cost more to do than the money we're allocating!" "Okay, good answer... and good logic. But let's look closer. Is transportation really a function of sales? Or is it a function of distance and volume? I'll bet you, Jeff that we get hit two ways out to the West Coast. First, the distances from Milwaukee are enormous. That's got to cost a ton! Second, we're small out there, so I'm sure most, if not all, of our shipments are Less-Than-Truckload. I haven't looked in a while, but LTL is far more expensive per unit of shipping weight than truckload, isn't it?" Stover nodded slowly, "Yes, sir, it sure is." "So our transportation allocation to the Western Region is lower than it should be, so someone else is paying too much. I suspect, Jeff, it's the South. Distances are shorter, and volume is much larger. We're more likely to be able to ship full truckloads. Right?" "Yes, sir, that's right, too." "Okay, let's take a look at general and administrative - G&A charges. Are they assigned by sales, also?" Stover said they were. "Here we go again. First, it includes store super vision. Steve, you just got back from Spokane. What were your travel expenses for the trip running?" Steve grinned and rolled his eyes. "Sir, we've got a nasty new treasurer. If I owned a house, I would be thinking about taking out a second mortgage to cover this month's American Express bill! We think distances are pretty good here in the Midwest, but they're nothing like what you get out there! Take a look at Salt Lake City on a map sometime. That's *nowhere*. The nearest city to the east is Denver, and that's nearly 400 miles in a straight line. Only you've got to get across the Rocky Mountains that stand in between! Cliff, I didn't figure out my travel cost on a per-store-visited basis, but I could. The number I would come up with would make Sandy's hair turn white!" "Jeff," Cliff continued, "you see the point. We're allocating on sales, but expenses aren't incurred that way. Moreover, because of the problems in the Western Division, I'll bet it gets a far higher proportion of management visits than it's proportion of our Store Division sales. Right?" Again heads nodded. "Guys, I don't want to sound like I'm picking on Jeff and his people. As he said earlier, the costs are real and they have to be assigned somewhere. The way he's doing it is reasonable. However, it can produce some pretty poor management decisions. Now, Jeff, what do you think about the profits in the Western Region? How much do you think we're going to lose?" Stover smiled and raised both hands in a sign of surrender. "I give up. The profit number is so small to start with that any swing on the expense allocations we've been talking about would cause it to disappear and turn into red ink. I can also see that we've been systematically understating Southern Region profits. What do you want us to do now?" "Jeff, I would appreciate it if you could have one of your guys take a crack at last year's numbers in light of the discussion we've just had. Let's see if we can come up with some better numbers in time for the next session. And I mean approximations. I certainly agree with your earlier comments: I don't want your people going over every bill of lading and expense account. Okay?" The group broke for lunch, and Cliff took the opportunity to talk with Sandy. "I'm going to take advantage of your good nature," he said with a smile. "I want you to lead a discussion of warehousing. Since there's going to be a lot of shooting, I would rather they shoot at you. Besides, if worse comes to worse and they take it out on us, they're less likely to shoot a woman." "Golly," she said with a grin. "I can hardly wait! Are you prepared to notify my next of kin? Although, come to think of it, I don't have any!" Her eyes warmed suddenly, "I may get my revenge, Clifford Fitzpatrick. You're my heir, as of Saturday. I finally wrote a will, so if anything happens to me, this whole mess gets dumped in your lap... permanently. Then won't you be sorry?" Cliff sat in the back of the room as Sandy led the warehousing discussion. As he suspected, it emerged there was a sort of staff mentality present at headquarters. Essentially, there was an unexamined belief that people in the field couldn't find their way to the bathroom unless there was a staff memorandum on the subject. By the time she had finished, there wasn't a single good reason left for centralizing purchasing and distribution in Milwaukee and dozens of reasons for moving the activities to the field. Without asking Cliff, Sandy moved ahead to what became a rather funny discussion of computerizing point-of-sale activities. One of Kevin O'Rourke's people, Jamie Carothers, responsible for data processing in the Stores Division, said it was unaffordable. Sandy, drawing on her knowledge of new personal computers and off-the-shelf software, didn't understand why. Jamie acknow ledged that the software existed, but that wasn't the problem. The problem was the cost of telephone line charges. "Line charges?" Sandy asked. "What line charges?" "The line charges to link all the point-of-sale computers to the mainframe in Milwaukee," Jamie replied. "Why do they need to be linked?" "How else can we know how much they're selling, and of what?" he answered. "Jamie, I think we just agreed central warehousing doesn't make sense. Even if it did, why do we need a minute-by-minute report of sales? What would we do with it?" "Well!" he began. "It permits us to... to... monitor..." He grinned. "I'm sorry, Sandy, it must be that staff mentality you referred to. As a matter of fact, if we were updated once a day, in the middle of the night, we'd be far better off than we are now. Frankly, I'm not sure we need to know here in Milwaukee more often than once a week, if even that often." Everyone laughed when he added, "Where do I get one of those Kick Me signs to hang on my back? I'm sorry!" Sandy led the meeting on to a discussion of strategy. Sandy said, "It looks like the strategy is pretty simple. We're closing out all the regions except the South. I guess that's Market Rationalization. Distribution Rationalization covers the new Southern warehouse idea. Finally, we have Methods and Functions Efficiency covering the new point-of-sale computers. It looks to me like we've got a lot to do before the next session. Anyone have anything else? No? We're adjourned." That evening, after another one of Sandy's lovely dinners, Cliff massaged her feet and legs while she lay face down on the bed. A short time later, she awakened as he reached more interesting places. Again that night they didn't get much sleep. -- +----------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `--------------+ | | | | Archive site +----------------------+--------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ | ----