Another Monday already, how do they come around so darn fast? I'm running as fast as I can and it's still not fast enough. Every time I think I see light at the end of the tunnel something else pops up. What's with that?
Here's this weeks story. Hope it leaves you hankering for more because it's not finished yet, that's why it's named
The Challenge
Wendy Thurston arrived in the office earlier than usual on Monday morning. She wanted to be sure she had all her ducks in a row for the meeting. Brian Sanderson, the nephew of Eugene Sanderson, the company founder, was meeting with her to discuss the situation.
Sanderson Manufacturing started out as a small company but had steadily grown over the years as their product became more and more necessary. Wendy had been with the company almost from the start. She was part of a work-study program and when she graduated, Eugene Sanderson kept her on. She knew the business from the ground up and became Gene Sanderson’s right hand.
The last couple of years, Gene’s health began to fade and he was absent more than he was at work. He trusted Wendy implicitly and gave her full reign to run his company. All the employees knew Wendy was in charge. She was a woman running a manufacturing company with mostly male employees and she did it very well. She lived and breathed Sanderson Manufacturing and assumed that someday she would be the official CEO of the company.
Enter Brian Sanderson. Gene Sanderson took a trip to the Bahamas and never returned. The plane he was on to ferry him between islands went down taking Gene, his wife and the pilot with it. Wendy worked through her grief and kept things running as smoothly as ever at the company.
One day, not long after the funeral, which she handled with her usual efficiency, she received a call from the law firm handling Gene’s estate. The news shocked her. Gene and Marjorie had never talked about any other family. Apparently, Gene had a sister with whom he had been estranged for years. Gwen Sanderson, never married, had a son.
When she received the call from Brian Sanderson, the nephew above, stating that he intended to step into his uncle’s shoes, Wendy was devastated. “How could Gene do this to her?” She worked her fingers to the bone for Sanderson Manufacturing only to have the rug pulled out from beneath her by some upstart who had no knowledge of the company he was coming to take over.
She was sitting at Gene’s desk when Brian Sanderson sauntered into the office. Impeccably dressed as if he were going to some high-powered corporate meeting, Brian Sanderson had that air of privilege about him and raised Wendy’s hackles immediately.
“I’m Brian Sanderson and I believe you’re sitting in my chair,” he said in a clipped British accent.
“I’m Wendy Thurston and I have been running this company from this chair for quite some time.”
“Wendy Thurston, happy to meet you,” and extended his hand as he stood next to her waiting for her to vacate ‘his’ chair. To take his hand, she knew she’d have to rise from the chair and she had to fight with herself to do so. The minute she stood to shake his hand, he moved her over and took the seat.
“Sit down, Wendy. We have some things to discuss.” He said and waved her to a chair on the other side of the desk. ‘How dare he,’said the little voice in her head. She went to the other side of the desk but remained standing.
“Sit down, Wendy.”
“I have things to do right now. I’ll be back when I’m finished.”
“Wendy, Sit Down. Whatever you have to do can wait a few minutes.”
“How would you know that you’re not familiar with our operation.”
“No, but I intend to become familiar and that’s what we need to discuss,” he said in a tone that was both authoritative and sexy as hell.
“I can imagine this is difficult for you but let me assure you your position here is secure, but I am the CEO now and I will make all the final decisions. Your authority extends only as far as I allow. I don’t plan to undermine you to the employees, but I have my own ways and I will expect you and others to adhere to them.”
The whole time he spoke she concentrated on his mouth, not his words. He had perfectly straight white teeth behind lips that were almost ringed with a rosier shade than the inner portion.
Wendy continued to hear sounds coming from him, but she was not listening. Instead, she was concentrating on his physical attributes. He had one of those aquiline noses and eyes that were like cold steel beneath thick brows that almost knitted together. His dark hair was stylishly cut and had just the slightest wave. She imagined if he allowed it to grow longer, he would have almost curly hair. She was thinking of running her fingers through those locks when she heard his raised voice.
“Wendy, have you heard anything I’ve said?”
“Hmmm”
“Have you heard anything I’ve said?”
“Yes, yes, I’m listening.” She hoped he didn’t ask any questions because she hadn’t heard a word.
“I don’t think you are and I hope this isn’t an indication of your work ethic.”
“How dare you come in here and question my work ethic? The fact that you have a job and a company is because of me. Gene Sanderson taught me everything and trusted me with his company. Although he recently died, he was gone more than he was here. This company kept going and growing mainly through my efforts.”
“Obviously, I’ve touched a nerve, I apologize,” he said in that clipped accent that sent shivers up and down her spine. He may have spoken the words, but his demeanor told her he didn’t mean a word of the apology.
The smoldering look she sent him would cower a lesser man and for a moment he thought about how she would look with her hair undone and draped over his knee. He would love to see some of that heat directed toward him and not in the way it was now. He wanted to tame some of that passion – spank some of that sass right out of her. The thought traveled from his brain to other parts of his body and he shifted in his chair. ‘Don’t be a bloody fool,’ he told himself.
“So do you agree with my proposal?” he asked.
Wendy had no idea what he proposed, she hadn’t paid the slightest bit of attention as he talked.
“Let me think about it,” she said as she turned to walk out of the office.
“Ms. Thurston, we are not finished.”
“Yes, we are.”
“Why that cheeky little vixen,” he said to himself. He felt a sudden itch in his palm and slapped his hand down hard on the desk. He couldn’t help but think about how good it would feel to apply his hand to that saucy little bottom as it swayed its way out of his office. The sting didn’t do anything to deter his thoughts. ‘Damn his uncle for not preparing her for this.’ Based on what Brian had learned from the attorney, it was his uncle’s plan to slowly bring him into the company and see how he and Wendy worked together. If things went as planned, they would each be offered each a fifty percent stake in the company. The more he thought about it, the more he suspected his uncle had other reasons for what he’d done. Unfortunately, his unexpected death had put a wrench into things and now Brian was left figuring out how to make it work.
He sat back in his ‘new’ chair and thought about Ms. Thurston. He hadn’t known what to expect when he walked in that morning. The attorney hadn’t given him a clue other than that his uncle thought highly of her as evidenced by the plans that had never been fully formalized. He never expected the sixty-three inches of dynamite and sass he’d met this morning. He was a sucker for strawberry blonde hair and freckles and Wendy had them both. It was the green eyes that did him in though. That and that attitude. He had a feeling he was in for big trouble and somehow he had to keep the upper hand, but it wasn’t going to be easy.
See you later for more Aimless Ramblings.
