new life was waiting for her to take command.
Joel studied the printout that lay on his desk. Everything looked solid. All the little ducks were lined up in a row waiting for him to fire the howitzers. Copeland Marine Industries was so much dead meat ready to start rotting in the fields.
He should have felt more of a sense of satisfaction, he thought. He had waited long enough to bring down Victor Copeland. Fifteen years, to be exact. In another month the business would be over and done.
So why was he feeling edgy today? Joel got up and went to stand at his office window. His problem was the impending arrival of Letty Thornquist, and he knew it. She would be here tomorrow, expecting to take over the presidential suite.
Presidential suite—the term was a joke. Thornquist Gear had never had much use for a president's office. It had never had a president who spent any time at his desk. The only thing Charlie had ever done while seated at his desk was tie flies.
Four stories below Joel the sales floor of the downtown branch of Thornquist Gear hummed with activity. The summer camping season was over and the ski season was about to begin. The annual run on ski boots was already starting.
Ten years ago Thornquist Gear had occupied one tiny shop on First Avenue. Today the company leased half a block of office space and had retail outlets on the east side and down in Portland.
The first two floors of the downtown store were retail, and the two upper floors housed Accounting, Marketing and other operations. Joel still got a surge of pride and deep satisfaction every time he walked through the front door of Thornquist Gear.
First Avenue was busy, as usual. From his window Joel could see one Thai restaurant, a sexy lingerie shop, a take-out deli that featured Mediterranean cuisine, one adult theater, and a pawnshop. Facing the building that housed Thornquist was a fine old hotel that dated back to the turn of the century. It had recently been gutted and converted into upscale condominiums.
Joel watched as a plane came in over Elliott Bay. The slice of water he could see from his window was the color of steel under a gray sky. There was rain on the way, according to the forecast. Some people had a tough time with the continual gloom of Seattle. They moved to the city and ended up leaving six months later because they couldn't take the clouds and endless mist.
Joel wondered hopefully if Letty would be driven off by long periods of overcast skies. It would certainly make the task of persuading her to sell out to him easier if she was.
With his luck she would find the rain romantic.
Behind him his secretary's firm, no-nonsense voice sounded on the intercom.
“Mr. Blackstone, there's a call for you on line two. Manford from Marketing. He says it's important.”
Joel turned toward the desk. “Thanks, Mrs. Sedgewick. I've got it. By the way, Mrs. Sedgewick?”
“Yes, Mr. Blackstone?”
“How is Ms. Thornquist's office coming along?”
“Should be ready by tomorrow, sir. And I've finally lined up a secretary for her. Arthur Bigley from Accounting.” Mrs. Sedgewick paused meaningfully. “I believe he is exactly what you were looking for. And he is thrilled with his sudden and unexpected promotion.”
“Good. Send him in here for a few minutes, will you? I want to brief him personally on his new responsibilities.”
“I understand, Mr. Blackstone.”
“Fine.” Joel punched a button. “Blackstone here. What's the problem, Cal?”
“We've got to make some decisions on the thrust of the new ad campaign before we get the agency on line. I can't hold things up much longer or we'll start missing some deadlines. We need your approval on the contract, Joel.”
“All right. Let me take one more look at it this weekend. Schedule a meeting for Monday morning.”
“Right.” Cal cleared his throat. “Uh, shall I include Ms. Thornquist?”
“There's no need to bother her with this kind of thing during her first week
Joel studied the printout that lay on his desk. Everything looked solid. All the little ducks were lined up in a row waiting for him to fire the howitzers. Copeland Marine Industries was so much dead meat ready to start rotting in the fields.
He should have felt more of a sense of satisfaction, he thought. He had waited long enough to bring down Victor Copeland. Fifteen years, to be exact. In another month the business would be over and done.
So why was he feeling edgy today? Joel got up and went to stand at his office window. His problem was the impending arrival of Letty Thornquist, and he knew it. She would be here tomorrow, expecting to take over the presidential suite.
Presidential suite—the term was a joke. Thornquist Gear had never had much use for a president's office. It had never had a president who spent any time at his desk. The only thing Charlie had ever done while seated at his desk was tie flies.
Four stories below Joel the sales floor of the downtown branch of Thornquist Gear hummed with activity. The summer camping season was over and the ski season was about to begin. The annual run on ski boots was already starting.
Ten years ago Thornquist Gear had occupied one tiny shop on First Avenue. Today the company leased half a block of office space and had retail outlets on the east side and down in Portland.
The first two floors of the downtown store were retail, and the two upper floors housed Accounting, Marketing and other operations. Joel still got a surge of pride and deep satisfaction every time he walked through the front door of Thornquist Gear.
First Avenue was busy, as usual. From his window Joel could see one Thai restaurant, a sexy lingerie shop, a take-out deli that featured Mediterranean cuisine, one adult theater, and a pawnshop. Facing the building that housed Thornquist was a fine old hotel that dated back to the turn of the century. It had recently been gutted and converted into upscale condominiums.
Joel watched as a plane came in over Elliott Bay. The slice of water he could see from his window was the color of steel under a gray sky. There was rain on the way, according to the forecast. Some people had a tough time with the continual gloom of Seattle. They moved to the city and ended up leaving six months later because they couldn't take the clouds and endless mist.
Joel wondered hopefully if Letty would be driven off by long periods of overcast skies. It would certainly make the task of persuading her to sell out to him easier if she was.
With his luck she would find the rain romantic.
Behind him his secretary's firm, no-nonsense voice sounded on the intercom.
“Mr. Blackstone, there's a call for you on line two. Manford from Marketing. He says it's important.”
Joel turned toward the desk. “Thanks, Mrs. Sedgewick. I've got it. By the way, Mrs. Sedgewick?”
“Yes, Mr. Blackstone?”
“How is Ms. Thornquist's office coming along?”
“Should be ready by tomorrow, sir. And I've finally lined up a secretary for her. Arthur Bigley from Accounting.” Mrs. Sedgewick paused meaningfully. “I believe he is exactly what you were looking for. And he is thrilled with his sudden and unexpected promotion.”
“Good. Send him in here for a few minutes, will you? I want to brief him personally on his new responsibilities.”
“I understand, Mr. Blackstone.”
“Fine.” Joel punched a button. “Blackstone here. What's the problem, Cal?”
“We've got to make some decisions on the thrust of the new ad campaign before we get the agency on line. I can't hold things up much longer or we'll start missing some deadlines. We need your approval on the contract, Joel.”
“All right. Let me take one more look at it this weekend. Schedule a meeting for Monday morning.”
“Right.” Cal cleared his throat. “Uh, shall I include Ms. Thornquist?”
“There's no need to bother her with this kind of thing during her first week
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