obviously hearing the sadness in her voice. “No, baby girl, you’re not. But even you’ve got to admit this isn’t what you usually do, is it?”
“No, I guess not.”
“Are you okay there, baby girl? Do you want me to come over and chat for a while?”
“Thanks, Pops, but I’m fine. I just want to know what I’m getting into.”
“I’ll call Charlie and see what he can find out.”
“Thanks, Dad.”
“So is she?”
“Is she what?”
“Is she ugly?”
“No, she isn’t ugly. She’s beautiful. Inside and out.”
“You know what, girlie? Information or not, I don’t think you have a clue what you’re getting yourself into. Night, darlin’.”
Chapter Eight
William stared at the screen, absorbing every scrap of information he had received about his daughter. Every detail of her research had been forwarded to him, and despite his reservations over her lack of ambition, he had to marvel at her intellect. He felt a tiny flicker of parental pride before he pushed it aside, replacing it with the much more familiar numbness that usually settled in the pit of his stomach. There was no room for sentimentality in his world. After all, he could hire other people to do the work she had done, and take it where he wanted it to go. Develop her work in the directions she wouldn’t take it. His disappointment was just another emotion he didn’t need and couldn’t afford. He’d found power and money were excellent substitutes for affection. He closed the file and checked his e-mails, swearing under his breath as he reached for the phone.
“Susan, get Lyell on the phone.”
“Yes, sir.” He waited until the phone rang. He cleared his throat, tugged his shirt, and smoothed his hands down the front of it before he answered.
“Mr. Sterling, how can I—”
“I am still waiting for the projections on making the quantity of Balor I want.”
“Sir, I’m still trying to locate a supplier who can get me the equipment quickly. It’s a specialized piece of machinery, and the estimates on delivery and installation time are running into months at the moment.”
“Give me a name.”
“I’m sorry, sir, I don’t understand?”
“E-mail me the details of the supplier and the equipment you need. I will see that this matter is expedited.”
“Sir—”
“I expect that information within the next five minutes, or Marissa will not be thanking you.” He paused and listened to the heavy breathing on the other end of the phone. “Are we clear, Dr. Lyell?”
“Yes, sir.”
Sterling replaced the handset and called Susan again. “Get Jack in here, now.”
“Yes, sir.”
He was pouring himself a coffee as the well-dressed young man stepped into the room. He held up the pot and poured a second cup when Jack nodded.
“Jack, we have a situation.” His e-mail program signaled the arrival of new mail. He rounded the desk and printed off the information. “This gentleman needs some persuasion to give us his best efforts. He seems to think I have the time to wait months for a piece of equipment. I expect it to be delivered and installed in Lyell’s lab by the end of the month.”
“Are there any restrictions, sir?”
Sterling sipped his coffee. “What do you have in mind?”
“Sir, it depends on the circumstances.”
“I want you to do what’s necessary.”
“Do what we’ve done with Lyell.” Jack sipped his coffee, looking thoughtful.
Sterling liked the cold steel in Jack’s eyes. He was no-nonsense and did what he was told when he was told to do it. “And if there’s only a wife?”
“I’ll encourage her to be my guest for a while. If there are children too, he may be more cooperative if we make our purpose clear with the wife and keep the children as our guests.”
“And if neither is an option?” Sterling asked, not because he really cared, but because he wanted to make sure all the options were covered.
“Money. I’ll either pay him a sizable bonus for his efforts or
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