Kiss Me Twice. Geri Guillaume
me that you can be a bit difficult when you want to be.”
“Mr. Thibeadaux,” Phaedra said crisply, clamping down on her words. “Is there something that you need to tell me? Something before we meet on Thursday?”
“What do you mean?”
“For someone who claims to need my help, you don’t seem very accommodating.”
“You mean willing to fall over and let you shove your hand into my wallet? That’s what you consultants do, isn’t it? Rattle off some crap trying to convince your clients that you’re needed. Then inflate the hours on the invoice to charge ridiculous fees. Or skip out before finishing the work?”
“I have no intention of putting my hand anywhere near your wallet,” she assured him. “That’s what electronic transfers are for.”
Here we go again, Phaedra thought to herself. Another one who didn’t trust her profession.
“How about making my first consult free for old time’s sake? PV alum-to-alum,” he eased the question by her smoothly. He was trying to get by with something for nothing. Well, her services didn’t come cheap. There was true value to what she did.
“What value do you put on the safety of your employees, Mr. Thibeadaux?” Phaedra responded to his question with one of her own.
“There isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for them if it’ll keep them from getting hurt or killed.”
“I’ll tell you what, Mr. Thibeadaux. Because Solly suggested that you speak with me, for old time’s sake, my first consult will be free. It won’t cost you anything for me to listen. So, let’s meet. I’ll listen to you. You listen to me. And if I can’t convince you that I can help, then we’ll go our separate ways.”
“Then, I’ll see you Thursday at two o’clock. Anything I need to do to prepare for the meeting?”
“Yes, I need you to gather all of your employee incident reports for the last two years. Especially those related to accidents and those involving lost work time.”
“I’ve got copies of most of them sitting on my desk.”
“An excellent start. And I need access to your documented policies and procedures.”
“Most of that information is passed on through on-the-job training, Ms. Burke-Carter. Some of my employees can barely speak English. Others might have finished high school. It’s extremely physical, repetitive work. Nobody’s got time to plow through a bunch of dusty books that are out of date the minute you print them. But I’ll gather what I have.”
“I can assess how effective your procedures are when I see you on Thursday.”
“You’re not going to take our company secrets and sell them to your other clients, are you?”
“I’ll sign whatever nondisclosure agreements or confidentiality contracts you have.”
“Don’t you worry your head about signing NDAs,” he said smoothly. “We may be a Southern, family-run business. But some of the old ways still work for us, Ms. Burke-Carter. Like that quaint, turn of the century practice of sealing a business deal on the trust of a handshake. Keep your NDA. I’ve learned from personal experience that they’re not worth the paper they’re printed on.”
“You don’t trust consultants, do you?” It wasn’t really a question. Phaedra was only letting him know that she recognized his hostility but was still willing to deal with him.
“And it only took you fifteen minutes to figure that out. I’m already impressed with your expertise,” he retorted, then hung up on Phaedra before she could beat him to it.
“You should be,” Phaedra muttered to the dead phone line hum that echoed in her ear.
Chapter 4
B astien hung up the phone with mixed feelings. He couldn’t count the number of times he’d reached for the phone, started to call Phaedra Burke-Carter and then hung up again before it could ring. It was worse than being in grade school, trying to make that first phone call to his first preteen crush.
It wasn’t that he doubted Phaedra’s abilities. Solly had recommended her, and Solly wouldn’t do it unless he thought she could help. When he’d left the bowling alley Monday night, he’d stayed up until four o’clock in the morning researching her. By the time he made himself call her, he was already fighting a stress headache. Knowing that he had a full day at work before him didn’t put him in the best of moods, and he knew that bad attitude came across on the phone. Bastien had contacted her impressive list of clients. They gave her excellent references. Enough to convince him to go ahead and call her.
What Bastien doubted was his ability to convince Remy that the company needed to spend the money to bring her on board. In Remy’s eyes, bringing on an outside consultant meant that somebody inside of CT Inspectorate wasn’t doing their job. And that somebody had better get their act together quickly, or that somebody would soon be out of a job. Bastien didn’t have to read between the lines. Remy made it clear. Bastien was the one who was at risk.
Holding Phaedra’s card between his fingertips, Bastien gently, distractedly tapped the card against the page in the yearbook that held her picture. She’d been a junior then. According to Solly, she’d attended the same parties that he went to. Still, he didn’t remember her, and it frustrated him that he couldn’t. Solly teased him and told him that was one of the effects of getting old, and for his birthday he would buy him a case of ginkgo biloba to help with his memory. In response to Solly’s “getting old” cracks, Bastien made Solly’s son cover his ears while he told his friend what he could do with that case of herbs.
Bastien compared Phaedra’s school photograph with the one posted on the Web site for her consultancy firm. The years had certainly been kind to her. More than kind. Generous. The girl in the college annual was just that, a girl. A girl trying to look more mature than her nineteen years. Her thick, dark, curly hair was teased for volume and ballooned around her head. Large dark eyes were hidden behind wide-rimmed glasses. The blouse she wore was bright pink with an obnoxiously frilly bow that fell in ribbons down the front with bright pink lipstick to match and large plastic hoop earrings.
The woman on the Web site was considerably more polished. Sophisticated. She wore her hair sleeker now. A long bang swept across her forehead from left to right and the rest was smoothed into a french roll. She still wore glasses, but they were modern and accented her eyes, rather than dwarfing them. Her dark eyes stared out cool and assured, giving the impression of confidence and competence.
“Is it safe to come in now?”
Bastien’s cousin Chas swung the door open and stepped through before Bastien gave him permission. Chas didn’t really need permission. As the company’s chief finance officer, he could come and go as he pleased. But Chas didn’t operate that way. Not like Remy, Bastien thought sourly, who used every opportunity to remind everyone of his position. He wore his title like some kind of cape, smothering the employees with it when he thought they weren’t giving him the proper respect.
As Chas came in, Bastien quickly closed the college annual and slid it into a desk drawer. If Chas noticed his hastiness, he didn’t say anything about it. Instead, he flopped into the chair facing him.
“Alonzo tells me that you’ve been holed up in your office all morning.”
“Alonzo needs to stop worrying about where I’ve been and worry about his own business,” Bastien said testily.
“Everything all right?” Chas asked. Bastien was edgy and not doing a very good job of covering it.
“Sure…everything’s fine.”
“Uh-huh.” Chas wasn’t convinced.
“I’m just under a little pressure right now, Chas.”
“When are we not under pressure in this place?” Chas commiserated.