Welcome To My Family. Roz Fox Denny

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СКАЧАТЬ job. Is that your normal work attire?” Almost before the remark was out of Slater’s mouth, he cursed himself for saying a word.

      Kat laughed. She couldn’t help it. The family had coerced her into wearing a suit and he didn’t like their choice. “At the resort, I generally wore sweats. Weather permitting, shorts.”

      “No shorts,” Slater sputtered. “This whole notion of play at work is ridiculous. I don’t know what possessed the other automakers. It only lengthens the overall workday when you give longer lunches and extra breaks to accommodate recreation. Don’t workers want to get home to see their wives and kids anymore?”

      “Have you talked to staff at Motorhill? Or plant managers in Detroit? Absence goes down and productivity up where they have recreation programs. I interned at a facility where they started a new program. I can personally vouch that it did make a difference.”

      Slater declined comment. He leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers against his lips. “What equipment would you need to get something minimal going?”

      Kat was extremely glad she’d climbed out of bed last night to draw up a list. She extracted it from her purse and pushed it across his desk.

      As Slater perused it, his straight brows almost met over his nose.

      Kat chewed her lower lip again and waited for him to throw the list in his wastebasket.

      But when he spoke, Slater sounded calm enough. “Space isn’t an issue. I’ve got an empty warehouse and plenty of ground to grade for a ball field. Equipment is something else. I think it’s only fair to tell you, Ms. O’Halloran, I have an attorney checking for loopholes in the proposal our workers presented to the board. The minute he finds one, your program is history. Surely you understand my reluctance to invest in equipment.”

      Kat steepled her fingers in a gesture exactly like his. “Do you work out?” she asked bluntly, knowing he had to in order to remain so lean and trim.

      “Every day.” He glanced up. “I’d go crazy if I didn’t. I don’t, however, exercise during work hours. I belong to a twenty-four-hour gym.”

      “Which costs you two thousand bucks a year. Right?”

      He shrugged. “More or less.”

      “More would be my guess. However, the men and women who work here probably didn’t hatch from a long line of CEOs. Surveys show blue collar workers eat too much bread and too few fruits and vegetables. Heading in this morning I passed a score of people who were overweight. Exercise lengthens life. That, Kowalski, is fact. Exercise also sharpens mental acuity.”

      “I’m not disputing the merits of exercise. I just have more important things to worry about. Like if we don’t produce cars around here, those same people won’t even have bread on the table.”

      “Then Flintridge is in a financial bind.”

      “Who told you that?” He catapulted from his chair, smacking both hands flat on the desk.

      Kat shrank back into the oversize chair. “I heard there’s a rumor to that effect floating around Motorhill.”

      “Dammit,” he swore, slamming her folder closed. “Squelch it,” he ordered.

      “Me?” She leaned toward him. “I’ll admit I have family working at Motorhill. But they didn’t start the rumor. And I sure didn’t.”

      He eyed her coldly in what became a fierce glaring match that lasted until his intercom buzzed. Shifting his attention to a console on his desk, Slater flipped a switch. “Yes, Hazel, what is it?”

      “Have you forgotten you were meeting…someone for lunch?”

      He spared a glance at a wafer-thin watch. “Yes. Is she on the phone?”

      The response was affirmative.

      “Extend my apologies and tell her to order our salads. I’ll have a chicken Caesar.” He severed the connection with the confidence of a man assured that whatever he commanded would be done.

      Kat stood. It would be a cold day in hell before she ordered any man a salad via secretarial request. Or if she did, he’d be wearing it when he did manage to show up. “Does this conclude our discussion?” she asked. “Or shall I return after lunch?” She led the way to the door.

      “Let’s resume at three. Meanwhile, I’ll have Hazel show you the office I’ve assigned you. It’s directly below on level nine.” He opened the door and beckoned his secretary.

      “If you ask me,” Kat muttered, “you take darn long lunch hours for someone who doesn’t approve of recreating on company time.”

      Hazel Carmichael rushed up to meet them just then, so Kat missed the crimson tide that flowed up Kowalski’s neck.

      “Take Ms. O’Halloran to room 910 before I get into trouble with the employees for firing her, Hazel. I want her back at three, so please clear my calendar.”

      “Very good, sir. Enjoy your lunch with Ms. Bellamy.”

      Ms. Bellamy. Kat wondered what she did for a living since she had time to lunch all afternoon. The notion of him dallying with some do-nothing socialite while she twiddled her thumbs, sitting around waiting for his instructions, stuck in Kat’s craw. Then, disgusted to think she cared what he did and with whom, she swept all images of her arrogant boss aside and dutifully followed his secretary. She didn’t envy Mrs. Carmichael having to choreograph Kowalski’s love life. It seemed a demeaning task.

      “Here we are, dear.” Mrs. Carmichael unlocked a door. “I didn’t know precisely what supplies a recreation specialist might require, so I ordered the usual pens, pencils, tape and such.”

      Kat stepped inside. “At the resort, I had a fourth of this space, a host of kayaks, paddles, five bags of assorted sports balls, a desk and two file cabinets.”

      The secretary looked horrified. “No one mentioned sports equipment, Ms. O’Halloran. I’m afraid nothing’s been ordered.”

      “Call me Kat. And don’t worry. Kowalski has my equipment list. I would like a roster of personnel, broken out into shifts with lunch and break times, if possible.”

      “I’ll call Wendy after lunch and tell her you need it first thing in the morning.” Slater’s secretary jotted herself a note.

      “Lovely,” Kat murmured. Just what she needed, another visit with the company fashion plate. Especially since she’d be wearing sweats tomorrow.

      Mrs. Carmichael homed in on Kat’s remark. “If Wendy gives you trouble, call me. I’ll collect the list for you.”

      Kat smiled. So she hadn’t imagined the friction between those two.

      The woman suddenly checked a watch hanging from a slender neck chain. “It’s our lunchtime, too, Ms….er, Kat. If you haven’t got any plans, you’re welcome to join me in the cafeteria.”

      “Thank you, I’d love to join you for lunch. Let me stow this packet in the desk and I’ll be set to go. Will I need to wear my badge?”

      “No СКАЧАТЬ