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From: "Bill Morgan" <morg105829@hotmail.com>
Subject: {Morgan} NEW: Six-month Turnaround 11 of 16 M/F Rom. lite sex
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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 was to post a chapter each weekday.
Due to posting problems on ASSM, I am uploading all remaining parts
today. This is a repost of chapter 11 of 16. The original posting
omitted the chapter reference in the Subject line.
Six-Month Turnaround
Copyright 1992, 1998 by Morgan. All rights reserved.
Chapter 11
Three weeks had passed, and they were good ones for Murphy
Manufacturing. As expected, two days after the visit to Kaga, Cliff
received a firm order for production quantities. Quality of production
was even better as the crew got used to the new system. Finally, the
previous Friday they had heard that the preliminary tests on the new
piston rings were very promising.
Cliff had asked for the PA system to be set up as it had been when the
Kaga order was first discussed. He addressed the workers this time.
"Folks, I have a letter I want you all to hear. It's from the managing
director of Kaga Motors in Japan. He is writing to inform me we have
been selected as the first American auto parts supplier to be designated
a preferred provider for their company. He continues by saying this
selection is based on a number of criteria:
"The first is product quality. The trial quantity met their
specifications. The first production shipment *exceeded* them -
substantially. The second is timely delivery. He says they do not get as
good service from their long-term suppliers in Japan. But the final
criterion is attitude. Mr. Saito, general manager in Michigan, sent to
company headquarters near Tokyo the scroll you people signed and sent
with the first shipment. That's dedication, the very best possible
attitude. He wants me to tell you that he and his fellow directors in
Japan are most impressed.
"Finally, and this is the real reason for calling you all together. I am
now quoting from his letter: 'Please extend our deepest appreciation to
Mr. Jim Wozlowski of your company. Preliminary tests indicate the rings
Mr. Wozlowski fashioned may be signif icantly superior to the ones we
are now using. My technical people express their astonishment that
Murphy Manufacturing could possibly have workers who are so good and so
dedicated that they can improve on our design without even knowing the
technical specifications of our engine. Nevertheless, he seems to have
done so. Mr. Fitzpatrick, this indicates dedication to your company's
interests and to ours. This is the finest possible attitude. Needless to
say, if Mr. Wozlowski's ring is adopted, Murphy Manufacturing will be
the preferred worldwide supplier for them. In addition, we will, of
course, pay you a royalty on all rings we use made from that design
produced by any other manufacturer.'
"Folks, all Miss Donnell and I can say is, thank you. You are doing what
you set out to do. Incidentally, where's Jim Wozlowski?" Jim waved his
hand. "What are you standing there for, for chrissakes? Your plane for
Orlando leaves in only three hours, and I hope to hell you're not going
to go looking like that. As a very small expression of the company's
appreciation, we have first-class tickets for you and your entire family
to Florida and an all-expense paid trip to Disney World. And Jim, you'll
get a significant piece of any royalties the company receives. Now get
the hell out of here!" There was a great cheer as Jim ran out to his
car.
"Before you all go, there's just one more thing I wanted to say. Miss
Donnell and I recognize that dedication is a two-way street. Jim
demonstrated it, and we're trying to reward him for it. The same thing
applies to all of you. Once again, thank you all. You're really doing
the job I knew you would!"
Sandy was sitting in his office and they were drinking their coffee. "I
guess the honeymoon's really over," Cliff sad sadly, "When a guy has to
subsist on company coffee instead of a hearty breakfast."
Sandy glared at him while trying to hide a grin. "If you were closer I
would kick you, and you know where. First, it takes a damned crane to
get you out of bed, and then you sexually assault me in the kitchen
while the eggs burn. Then you have the gall to complain about no
breakfast. The nerve!"
Cliff tried to look innocent. "Now wait a minute! The reason it takes a
crane is you sexually attack me all night long! And maybe I wouldn't
assault you in the kitchen if you had more clothes on... if you had
*any* clothes on!"
They both grinned and Sandy stuck out her tongue at him. He changed the
subject. "How do you feel about coming down to Charlotte with me? There
are some bankers down there to see, and I know JL and his boys would
love to see you, too. This is the second big bet. What do you think
about the prospects for our renovated auto parts business?"
"I have my fingers crossed," she replied. "But I would love to, even
though Charlotte can get pretty hot this time of year. Do you want me to
make plans to come with you?"
"I sure do! We might as well both be hot. Sandy, this is a stupid
question, I know, but do you play golf?"
"I thought you would never ask! Yes, I play golf. And God knows, it took
you long enough to get around to it." She grinned and added, "Are you
thinking of taking up an *outdoor* sport? I thought you were... Never
mind what I thought you were. But why do you ask?"
"Because they take their golf seriously down there, and JL asked me to
bring my clubs. Do you have any to bring? If not, we can always rent you
some."
"Yes, smarty, I have clubs. I also have a handicap. I will also beat the
pants off you. Want to bet?"
"Sure, I'll bet. What's your handicap, by the way?"
"I'll tell you when we play. I don't want to frighten you off too soon."
They caught a United flight to Charlotte and were met by JL at the
airport. Jeff Stover was right. This was a big risk. In the planning
session JL Wilson and his people sounded like they knew the business and
knew their market. Everyone would soon know if they really did. With the
Kaga business, Murphy was out of the tank. But if the Southern Stores
project really bombed, they would be right back in it again. They went
to claim their baggage and JL was surprised that there were two golf
bags.
"Sandy Donnell, you've been holding out on me again!" JL said, "I never
knew you played golf."
"Come on, JL!" she replied with a grin. "A girl's got to have some
secrets."
They went to the hotel, checked in, and then went out to one of the
renovated auto parts stores. It was a unit Cliff had seen on his first
visit but now he didn't recognize it. The lighting had been vastly
improved, and was very effective after dark, giving the store a bright,
attractive appearance. JL told them they had extended the hours of
operation and were using numbers of permanent part-time people to handle
it. They walked in and were surprised at the weekday evening activity.
"How long has this place been reopened?" Cliff asked.
"We opened ten days ago," JL replied. "It sure looks good to me. How
does it look to you?"
"It looks like you're doing a land-office business. Sandy, what do you
think?"
"Hell," she said, "I'm only the treasurer. What do I know? JL, how are
the numbers? Or do you know yet?"
"Ma'am, they are just great! One of Kevin O'Rourke's guys was down and
set up our accounting system on one of those personal computers. It
works great! We're running 300 percent of last year. How does that
sound?"
"That sounds great to me," Sandy replied, "But as I said, I'm only the
treasurer. What do you think, Cliff?"
"Any time sales increase by a factor of three, I'm in favor." he
replied. "What do we do now?"
"How would you like some real Carolina barbecue? It's not like anything
you ever get up North. Care to try?" JL asked.
They both agreed, and JL took them to a family barbecue restaurant. JL
ordered for the table. What they received was barbecued pork, not the
spare ribs they had expected. There were a bunch of other dishes with
it. JL was a little concerned, with Sandy present, that the place only
served beer and soft drinks. Before she had a chance to answer, Cliff
spoke for her, "Sandy is a beer drinker from way back. Remember, she's
from Milwaukee, the home of a whole bunch of beers and a lot of beer
drinkers."
After a very pleasant evening together, JL dropped them off at the hotel
and they went up to their rooms. Then Sandy took a coin from her purse
and looked at Cliff. "Heads or tails?"
"Heads," he said.
She flipped the coin, caught it, and placed it on the back of her left
hand. Making sure Cliff was looking, she removed her right hand covering
the coin. "It's tails. You lose."
"What did I lose?" Cliff asked.
"We sleep in my bed, not yours," she answered dryly. "Get your razor,
and let's get to bed." Once in bed, Sandy molded herself to his body and
fell asleep.
They spent the next day visiting other stores in varying stages of
renovation. Two were complete, although they had not yet had their
official "Grand Re-Opening" celebrations. Sales in all the units were
going very well. When they returned to JL's office, Cliff asked him what
he thought the cause was. "Well, sir, I'll tell you. I think about 40
percent is the new merchandise assortment, 40 percent is the store
renovation and improved layout, and the last 20 percent is better
employee morale. They feel like they belong, not like they're a bunch of
step-children. I'll tell you, it hasn't been like this in a long, long
time."
They went over the sales reports for the entire Southern Division, store
by store. Finally, Cliff looked at the other two and said, "Damn! I
think it's going to work. It's really going to work! Congratulations,
JL, this is even better than we hoped for. You and your people are doing
a great job!"
That evening JL and his wife, Marlene, took them to a fine place for
dinner and dancing. During the evening, Sandy learned that Marlene was
an avid golfer. "Hey, guys!" Sandy said. "Marlene and I are taking you
on in golf tomorrow. Full handicaps, of course. JL, Cliff and I have a
little side bet, but Marlene and I will play you two in a $20 Nassau,
okay?"
"You're on, little ladies," JL answered. He looked at his wife
affectionately. "But damn! Marlene and I were counting on trimming the
damnyankees again, too!"
The next morning, JL picked them up at the hotel and drove them out to
his club. They had a nine o'clock tee time, and arrived at the club
early. Sandy and Cliff went to the practice tee to warm up. Cliff hadn't
swung a club in over a year, and was pretty sure Sandy hadn't played in
months, at least. He did some limbering exercises and then started
hitting balls, beginning with his very short irons. Meantime, Sandy had
gone to the opposite end of the tee. Cliff could have been a very good
golfer if he played more. After taking a few shots with various clubs,
he got up to his driver. He started pounding out shots that appeared to
be carrying 250 yards or more. His notorious slice seemed to have
disappeared. Then he looked up and watched Sandy. It came as no surprise
to him that she had a very graceful, fluid swing. At 5 feet 8 inches,
she was a tall girl, and she used her height effectively. She was not as
long as he was, but was far longer than any woman he had ever played
with.
They went to the first tee. Cliff played to a USGA handicap of sixteen.
On this course, it became a playing handicap of eighteen. He asked Sandy
what her handicap was and was told it was a twelve on the course. He was
getting six strokes, but was giving her the distance between the men's
and women's tees. "What's our bet?" he asked Sandy.
"I'll tell you when we're done," she replied with a grin.
The men teed off from the white tees. Cliff's layoff of nearly a year
showed on his first drive. The slice that had disappeared on the
practice tee came back with a vengeance on his first tee shot. Although
he sliced it into the woods, it seemed to be close enough to the fairway
to still be in play. JL obviously played a great deal. He wasn't as long
as Cliff, but a lot straighter. Marlene hit her tee shot off the forward
tee short and straight. Then Sandy addressed her ball and swung with the
very fluid, graceful swing Cliff had seen on the practice tee. She hit
the ball beautifully. It landed just to the right of the fairway
centerline with a slight draw on it. The draw - really top-spin - caused
the ball to roll, adding to its distance. She was almost 200 yards out
in the middle of the fairway. Cliff had been watching the women tee off.
After Sandy hit, he turned to JL and said wryly, "Why is it I think this
is going to be a very long and expensive morning?"
The front nine became a match between Sandy and JL. The man was
sweating. He was far more practiced than she was, and it was his home
course which gave him another advantage. For her part, she was nearly as
long off the tee as he was, and was deadly inside 125 yards. Her short
game and putting were devastating. As they made the turn, the women were
up by two holes. "Cliff, do you feel rich and foolish?" JL asked. "How
about pressing them on the back side?"
"Let's do it," Cliff replied. "It doesn't matter if I don't have any
money to live on for the next six months. There's a lesson here
somewhere I need to learn."
The match had evened by the time they reached the 18th hole. On a par
three, Cliff had put his tee shot just a few feet from the pin and won
the hole with a birdie. On the top handicap hole on the back nine, Cliff
and Sandy both had pars, but he won it because of the stroke she gave
him. If the men won the last hole, they would be the winners. Although
they had lost the front nine, the back nine was worth twice as much
because of the press, and they would win the match. If the hole was
even, they would be even on the nine, even on the match, and down $20
for the front nine. The way the day had been going, losing only $20
would be a moral victory.
The last hole was 475 yards for men, but only 400 for the women, played
to an elevated green. The hole was a par-5, and the 8th handicap hole
for men. Cliff didn't get a stroke. During the round Cliff had finally
controlled his slice. His tee shot was his best of the day. He got his
full power into the ball and powered it over 250 yards. JL hit his usual
straight ball but not nearly as far. Marlene hit, and finally Sandy.
She, too, had her best drive of the day. Her ball traveled over 225
yards. Playing from the forward tee, her ball was ahead of Cliff's on
the fairway. As they walked down the fairway, JL was shaking his head.
"I used to say my mommy didn't raise any dumb children, but now I just
don't know. Why is it I feel this young lady is sandbagging us? You
know, Cliff, she is good - I mean *real* good! You mean to say she
hasn't been practicing all summer?"
Cliff grinned at the older man. "JL, I can assure you she hasn't had a
club in her hand since I joined the company on April 1. I wouldn't say
it to her, but it's fun watching her swing. I agree. She is very good
and beautiful to watch."
JL grinned back. "And that's not limited to her swing, either!"
It was a very warm day in July, with the temperature in the nineties.
Because they had chosen to take caddies, not carts, all four were
feeling the heat. JL and Marlene hit their second shots well, but it
didn't look like they would be in contention on the hole. It was Cliff's
turn to hit. He looked at his partner and said, "How about if I go for
it? I don't think we're going to win if we play it safe."
JL gave a rebel yell that startled some golfers on an adjacent hole.
"That's what I like to hear! Go for it!" Cliff forced himself to relax
as he addressed his ball with a 3-wood. He caught it beautifully. The
ball hit just in front of the green and bounced up moving to the right
of the pin. Sandy had watched him and then went to her ball. She also
took a wood, grinned at Marlene, and hit her ball. It, too, hit just at
the crest of the hill and bounced over, going straight for the pin.
Cliff and JL looked at each other and shook their heads. "Damn!" JL
said. "This is the last time I play against a treasurer. They just can't
stand to give up any money!"
By the time they reached the green, JL had to sink a very long putt for
a par and Marlene was playing for a six. Cliff was just past the pin in
distance, but on the right edge of the green. He had a very long putt -
60 feet or so. He lined it up and stroked it. It was long and very
difficult because the green sloped down back-to-front. He had a good
line but not quite good enough. The green broke more than he had
estimated and his ball rolled below the cup, leaving him a four-footer
coming back. Sandy's ball had rolled past the cup and was about twenty
feet away with a downhill putt. She didn't hesitate. She looked at the
line for a moment, stood over the ball and stroked it. Her putt was
perfect, rolling right for the center of the cup and dropping in for an
eagle three. She and Marlene hugged each other, and then went to shake
hands with the men. Cliff ignored Sandy's hand. He gathered her in his
arms and kissed her soundly. Then he released her, took his putter and
sank his own putt for a birdie four, even though the match was over.
"I just had to do that," he said. "It's the first time in my life I ever
had two birdies in a single round!" They walked back to the clubhouse
and went to the terrace for lunch.
"Gee, guys," Sandy said after they were seated, "I hate to bring it up,
you understand, but that's $100 you owe each of us. The way I count, it
was $20 on the front, $40 on the back, and $40 for the match. Then
there's Cliff's side bet with me."
Marlene was laughing while Sandy was speaking. JL asked her, "What's so
funny?"
"Before I answer, JL, I want to ask Sandy something. Sandy, JL
subscribes to a lot of golf magazines including one that reports on all
kinds of tournaments. Watching you today bothered me. There's something
in the back of my mind I just can't reach. Tell me, did you play
tournament golf?" Sandy nodded. "Of course! I seem to recall some
mentions of amateur tournaments in the Midwest. College, too, maybe?"
Again Sandy nodded.
Cliff watched in amazement. "Sandra Donnell! You promised me: no
secrets!" he said accusingly.
Sandy grinned sheepishly. "We were talking about the company and about
us. We never spoke about golf. This doesn't count."
"Sandy!" he exclaimed.
"Well, I played a little golf when I was younger," she admitted.
"And what's 'a little golf'?" Cliff persisted.
"I was captain of the Wisconsin women's golf team and runner up in the
Wisconsin and Midwest women's amateur championships," she said in a very
small voice.
"And your handicap? Is that real?"
"It sure is!" she said. "I didn't play much at all for the last couple
of years. You can't keep a handicap in single digits unless you play a
lot."
Cliff spoke to JL. "We were had! Remember the strategy discussions in
Milwaukee? I feel like a damn fool. I broke the very first rule in the
strategy book: Know the competition. JL, I feel I ought to pay your
share, too. It was my blunder."
"No, sir!" JL replied emphatically. "It's my fault more than yours. I've
known this girl a lot longer than you have. And I hope you noticed my
wife knew. And she knew from reading magazines with *my* name on them!
No sir! There's more than enough blame to go around!"
They ate lunch, and JL asked if they would like to go swimming in the
club pool. Everyone was in favor, but Sandy said she hadn't brought a
bathing suit. JL grinned. "This is my lucky day! We hate to let that
money get out of the state. As it happens, the pro shop sells bathing
suits, too. Now why don't you just take some of that money and buy one?
I know Marlene would love to help you pick one out." The girls went off
to the shop, while JL and Cliff went to the locker room to change. "I
wouldn't say it with the girls around," JL said, "but that was the best
damned match I've played in years. And you know what else? There's no
way I mind losing if the opponent shoots an eagle to win. Cliff, we
didn't lose. They won. There's a difference."
They went out to the pool deck and sat in the sun. Cliff closed his
eyes. He opened them again when he heard a sound, like a collective
indrawn breath, from the people on the deck. He turned and saw Sandy and
Marlene. Marlene had insisted that Sandy buy a white bikini which was
spectacular on her. With her auburn hair, green eyes, and light tan,
coupled with her perfect figure, she was breathtaking. Cliff just said,
"Wow!"
Marlene grinned, while Sandy looked like she wanted to hide. The older
woman said, "What do you two think? There's a funny side to this bathing
suit. It's been in the shop for months. Everyone has been looking at it,
but no one had the nerve to buy it. I think it's perfect on Sandy, don't
you?"
JL said appreciatively, "I think Sandy would look perfect in a potato
sack, but it sure does look great."
They swam, soaked up the sun, had a snack, and finally JL took them back
to the airport to get a late flight home. When they were seated on the
plane, she looked at Cliff, "Are you mad at me?"
"Why, in hell, should I be mad at you?" he asked, puzzled.
"Because I cheated you in the match and embarrassed you with the bathing
suit, is why," she whispered.
"You did not cheat! You just won. As far as the bikini is concerned, you
don't know much about men. You looked spectacular, honey. All I could
think of was all those poor guys eating their hearts out 'cause you're
mine. You are, aren't you?"
"Sure am!" she whispered, and kissed him softly.
--
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