Susan Phillips - Hot Shot

The loudspeaker snapped on. "Attention unmarried females. Free gynecological exams are now being given in Building C. Ask for Ralph."

Susannah jumped out of her chair. "That does it! I'm going to have somebody's ass !"

Mitch looked pained.

Jack Vaughan closed his folder. "I think our meeting is adjourned," he said quietly.

She stomped toward the door. Mitch intercepted her before she could reach it with another one of his new tricks. He simply stepped in front of her and blocked her path with his body. It was nothing more than a macho power play, a completely juvenile way of reminding her that he was bigger and stronger than she was. Real tough-guy stuff.

"What do you want?" she growled, ignoring the fluttering in her stomach and the wonderful scent of his starched shirt.

He leaned down and whispered in her ear. "One more week, Hot Shot. Then I take what's mine."

She swallowed hard. He was getting to her. He was really getting to her.

Her divorce became final on a completely ordinary Wednesday. She sat through a session with her East Coast marketing people, and met with the management team that headed up their Singapore plant. Paige had called and asked if she could drop by in the afternoon, and Susannah had rescheduled a conference call to accommodate her.

She finished drafting a memo and looked at her watch. It was nearly time for Paige to arrive. She hadn't seen Mitch all day. Which was perfectly fine with her. He'd put her through hell this past month, and she planned to make him suffer for it. If he thought he could just jump in bed with her now that she was officially a free woman, she would very quickly set him straight. She might be free, but she had no intention of being easy.

Paige stuck her head in the door. "Hi."

It was so good to see her sister that some of Susannah's tension faded. Since her marriage, Paige's skin actually seemed to glow with contentment. And whenever Susannah saw Yank, he had this goofy smile on his face.

The honeymooners had settled in at Falcon Hill. The idea of Yank Yankowski serving as lord and master of Joel Faulconer's home made her smile. You might actually have liked him, Daddy , she thought. Once you got over the initial shock, of course. He's the best there is, and he's made Paige so happy .

Susannah took in her sister's pale raspberry suit, the pearls at her throat, the chignon, and the gray lizardskin pumps. "My, my. I'm impressed. Did you get all dressed up for me?"

"No. I did it for Paul. He gets nervous when board members wear blue jeans."

"Paul?"

Paige stepped aside, and Susannah saw that she wasn't alone. Paul Clemens, Cal's predecessor as FBT chairman, was with her. Susannah got up to greet him. They chatted awkwardly for a few minutes.

Realizing that this was to be more than a sisterly chat, Susannah directed them to the small conference table in the corner of her office. No sooner were they all seated than Mitch arrived.

Susannah's heart did one of those peculiar somersaults. He took the seat next to Paige.

"I didn't know this was going to be a formal meeting," she said coolly.

Paige fiddled with her pearls. "I'm the one who asked Mitch to be here. Look, Susannah, I'm sorry about this, but-"

"It's my fault," Paul Clemens interrupted. "Paige and I had a long talk yesterday and I asked her to set this up."

Susannah clasped her hands on the table. "Paul, you've been a friend for a long time, but if you're here in any sort of official capacity for FBT, I'm going to need one of our attorneys present."

"I'm retired, Susannah, although I still sit on the board. Let's just say I'm here in an unofficially official capacity."

"Hear him out, Suze," Paige said. "This is pretty important."

Susannah reluctantly agreed, and Paul began to outline the crisis FBT had been thrust into since the public revelations about Cal Theroux. The fact that a man who had been the chairman of FBT would soon have a prison term hanging over his head had made everything incredibly difficult. The more Susannah listened, the more alarmed she became. She had known that FBT was in trouble, but she had no idea their problems ran so deep. The giant corporation was, quite literally, on the verge of collapse.

Paul finished speaking, and she gazed at him with dismay. "I hope both of you understand that none of us at SysVal wanted to damage FBT. Our problem was with Cal, not the company."

"You've made that very clear in your public statements, and we all appreciate it," Paul replied. "But the fact is, the public perceives us as the bad guys in black hats, while you're Snow White. Companies don't want to do business with us anymore. It's as if we're tainted, and they're moving toward our competitors in droves. We've discontinued the Falcon 101, but that's had little effect. The price of our stock has become a sick joke. Every division of the corporation is in jeopardy."

Paige looked up from the pattern she had been tracing on the table with the tip of her finger. "Suze, this is my fault. I'm hopeless at managing my stock. When I attend FBT business meetings, my mind wanders; everything is so boring that I can't keep my thoughts focused. I never have the slightest idea how I'm supposed to vote. That's why I gave my proxy to Cal. And look what that led to."

"You didn't intend to hurt the company," Susannah said.

"But she did hurt it," Clemens interjected. "And neither Paige nor I want that to happen again. FBT has nearly three hundred thousand employees. Entire communities depend upon us. Many of the small towns where we have plants couldn't continue to exist if we closed down. And we're losing, Susannah. Everything is slipping away."

Paige leaned forward. "I want to give you my permanent proxy, Susannah. I want you to vote my shares."

"Paige, I appreciate the vote of confidence, and I want to help you, but that's one thing I can't do. It would be a direct conflict of interest. My board of directors would never permit it."

"They would if you resigned," Paul said quietly. "If you left SysVal, put your own shares in trust, and took over as chairman and CEO of FBT."

Susannah sat stunned. They wanted her to take control of one of the biggest corporations in the United States, to take her father's old position. A hand grasped hers under the table and squeezed. The solid comfort of that big hand steadied her.

Paul studied her with great seriousness. "FBT must regain moral credibility if it's to survive. Right now, you're the only one who can give it back to us."

Susannah shook her head. "I'm sorry. Truly I am. I'll help you any other way I can, but leaving SysVal is absolutely out of the question."

For the first time since he had come in to join them, Mitch spoke. "Susannah needs a few days. Let her have some time to think it over."

"I don't want time, I-"

"I don't think a few days will hurt," he said smoothly.

She wasn't going to get into an argument with Mitch in front of Paul Clemens, and so she nodded. "Very well. A few days." But even as she spoke, she knew that nothing in the world would make her leave SysVal.

She had no sooner gotten home that night than Mitch appeared at her door. He was still wearing his business suit, and he hadn't even loosened his necktie. As much as she had been anticipating this moment, now that it had come, she wanted to postpone it. The past month had been nerve-wracking, but as she stared at him standing on her doorstep, she finally admitted to herself that she had loved that primitive feeling of being sexually stalked by the man she loved.

How could the reality ever match the expectation? Mitch would be a good lover, but in her heart of hearts, she didn't believe that he would be a great one. He was too neat, too proper. As she gazed into his face, her stomach began to feel queasy. What if she shocked him? What if he liked women who were more restrained in the bedroom?