The Lovely Chocolate Mob (22 page)

“Yeah, well…,“ said Dave, “your face is going to be known, now.”

“I’ll have to deal with that.”

“Helen once caused you a lot of grief. If she could see what you’re doing for her…”

“Helen is a victim, now.” David looked at me. I continued, “She needs our help.”

We shook hands, and he walked to his car and drove off. I shut the front door and went back to the kitchen table. Walter was still sitting, drinking from his cup, waiting for me to come back in.

“Well, you’ve got a big day tomorrow. You gonna tell that to Miss Karen Plan-
ter?”

I stopped. “How did you know my counselor’s name?”

Walter grinned over the top of his cup.

“Why should I tell her?” I asked.

“You said she’d be the first to know.”

I looked at Walter. He was still smiling. “You son-of-a-gun,” I said.

“You’d better call her tomorrow before you go to the board meeting. It might help to have a counselor’s opinion on these things…”

“Maybe I’d better,” I said.

“… even if she is just a woman,” said Walter, suppressing his laughter in his drink.

All morning I worked, but my mind wasn’t on the job. At noon, I took off for the rest of the day. The bosses didn’t complain; they knew the job would get done, and before the deadline. Sometimes it’s good to not be paid by the hour, but by the project. It was feast and famine, but it also gave me time flexibility when I needed it. But most of the time, I was there in the office, like other 8-to-5 people, there at the drawing board, so the bosses, other engineers, and designers didn’t panic. It was good to be needed.

I headed over to the medical center where Miss Planter was employed. I’d have to talk with Phyllis the receptionist, and hopefully she’d let me see Miss Planter; it shouldn’t be a problem.

I entered the waiting area, but the receptionist was gone to lunch. I knocked on Miss Planter’s office. “Come in,” she said. I popped the door partially open, and said “Hi!”

She was with another patient, but it looked as though the patient was about to wrap up; a lady was in front of Miss Planter with her purse in hand and looked as though she was poised to go out the back door. “I’m sorry,” I said, “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“We were just finishing up; I’ll be right with you, Mr. Owen.”

I shut the door, then spent the next five or 10 minutes walking around in the waiting room. I was too wound up to sit. Hopefully I didn’t cause too much of a stir in there.

Finally, Miss Planter opened the door and came into the receptionist/waiting area. I met her in the middle of the floor. “Why didn’t you call, Mr. Owen? What is it; what’s so important?”

“I wanted to tell you face-to-face, because I said you’d be the first person to know. I don’t trust phones anymore; you never know who might be listening in."

She shook her head, as though she was talking with a conspiracy theorist. “Okay, I’m listening. It’s lunchtime; I don’t have another appointment for an hour.”

“I don’t have time to eat with you; I wish I did. I’m headed up to the Lovely Chocolate Factory, and it’ll take a little time to drive in the middle of the day. I have a two o’clock appointment with the members of the board.”

“The board members at the Lovely Chocolate Factory? What on earth for?” she asked.

“I’ve got three minutes to talk to the board, hoping to convince them that Susan Lovely seeing Dr. Burke is not in the best interest of the company.”

“You hope to sway the board? How do you plan on doing that?”

“I hoped you could tell me. I have a few ideas, but this could use a woman’s touch. What would you recommend, or tell them?”

“Well, I…” Miss Planter was flustered, but also flattered that I had asked. I had come to have a respect for Miss Planter’s opinions and ideas. Maybe she could supply me some insight which might make a persuading point.

“I’ve had a lot of overstressed businessmen visit the office,” she said. “Unfortunately, the only thing that impresses their bosses and stockholders is money. How is the company doing?” she asked.

Asking how Lovely Chocolate was doing in Lovely was like asking how the Dallas Cowboys were doing while in Dallas. Everybody knows. I was surprised she didn’t, but I supposed her interests were her clients, or patients.

“This is one of the most in-demand chocolates on the globe,” I said, hoping to fill in the blanks. “Their stock is high, and they provide jobs for thousands. Everybody likes their product, if they can afford it. If you’re looking at this from a monetary standpoint, I’ve already taken that under consideration.”

“Do you know anything about the people sitting on the board of directors?” she asked. “What kind of people are they? Are they like you, with a faith reference? Are they moral men? Do they hold to a right and wrong?” Now she was making my wheels turn.

“It’s common knowledge that Cornelius Lovely was a man of faith; he may have been a Quaker, I believe. As for the board, I know nothing about them except the name of the chairman of the board, Mr. Hal Ostrander. I was finally able to reach him by phone, and he said I could speak before the board today. His work biography is listed on the internet, but I haven’t read it in depth, except that he’s spent his whole career with Lovely Chocolate.”

“Are there any women on the board?”

I hadn’t thought of that. What if there were women on the board? What difference would that make?

“What are you thinking?” I asked.

“I was thinking, perhaps if you played the family up, the ladies of the group would probably be persuaded to think about the children before the men got around to thinking about them. That sounds a little as though I’m assigning roles, but there are differences between men and women.”

“You’re saying that if I speak about the four Burke children, this will convince the ladies on the board?”

“That is my first thought, yes.”

“Thank you, Miss Planter. You’ve just given me useful information which I hope will be what I need to right a wrong situation.”

We stood there in the reception room for a moment. She looked as though she was expecting something, but I had nothing to give her. My goodness, it wouldn’t be anything for me just to lean over and kiss her face.

“I speak at two; I’ve got to go.” I turned to leave.

“Good luck!” I looked back at her, and grinned. “Oh, you don’t believe in luck, do you?” she said, correcting herself. “Well then, knock ‘em dead!”

“You’ve been a big help to me, Miss Planter. I wish you could come with me.”

“I wish I could go as well.”

This surprised me; I actually heard myself gasp. “But you’ve got an appointment, you’ll be helping somebody.”

“Yes.”

“Thank you, Miss Planter.” I left the reception room, walked down the hall, skipped the elevator, and took the stairs. On the walk down the steps to the parking lot, I was talking out loud and saying to myself, “
She
likes me. She
likes
me! She likes
me!”
putting emphasis on different words, and then I quit talking to myself suddenly when passing by the security guard, who was sitting at his station, who gave me a strange look.

I arrived at the huge company complex in plenty of time. The whole plant was built on a hill, known as Lovely Hill, on the north side of town, where it had plenty of room to expand on land it owned and maintained. I knew a little something about the layout since the company I worked for, Root and Bonham, had done business with Lovely, designing and installing drain ditches and pipes for their newer buildings. In the car, at the far end of the parking lot, I donned a wig, dark lenses, and a beard and mustache.

Outside the boardroom was a holding area with plush high-backed chairs, complete with leather cushions. Secretaries and receptionists were at their stations nearby, and made sure I was comfortable with drinks, cookies, and of course, chocolates. My stomach had became a wreck on the drive up to Lovely; I was walking into unfamiliar territory, and, not being much of a public speaker, felt like Daniel outside the Lions’ Den. “It’s only for three minutes,” I told myself, but those three minutes could make or break Helen’s family. I drank lots of water and had a few cookies, but didn’t think I could handle the chocolates. The secretaries must have thought I was important from the treatment they were giving me, or else everybody was treated as though they were important. I was used to hearing, “There’s the water fountain; help yourself.”

I watched the circular clocks and followed the second hand for about five minutes. At about a minute until 2 p.m., a receptionist came up to me and said, “Mr. Smith? The board is ready to see you.” I stood, and she opened the door to the boardroom, and walked me in. I expected her to introduce me, but the board meeting was already in session; they must have started early! Mr. Hal Ostrander, the board director, spoke first, saying, “It’s good to see you, Mr…. Smith. The board is interested in what you have to say. You may start speaking … now,” saying this while looking at his round, high-dollar watch.

I looked around the room for a moment and saw that all the board members, except for one, were men. The only woman was an older, matronly lady wearing a bright purple business outfit. I assumed she was wearing a dress, but couldn’t quite tell, since nobody stood up for me. I’d already used up 10 seconds.

I reminded myself I’d better get started. “Board members of the Lovely Chocolate Company, my name is John Smith, and I have come to you with an issue that may prove to be trouble for Lovely Chocolates.” Nobody moved or reacted after I said this. I did hear someone clear his throat.

“My concern is for the family of a man who is involved in an affair of the heart, with someone with whom you are closely tied. He is a married man with children, and has become closely linked with the granddaughter of Cornelius Lovely, Susan Lovely.”

At this time there was a little movement, a shuffling of the feet, a little stirring, but still nobody said anything. It was as though they were trying to stifle their reactions. I guessed that this was the way things were in the corporate business world, but I wouldn’t know for sure.

“My concern is for his family, a prominent family in the community. If his family falls apart because of his involvement with Miss Lovely, his wife and children will suffer greatly. Where you and your company come in is … Lovely Chocolates has always had the reputation for being a family-friendly company. If news of Miss Lovely reaches the tabloids as being a factor in the break-up of a family, this would make poor publicity for Lovely Chocolates. Indeed, not only would its reputation suffer as a result, but quite possibly its stock and value and sales… and employees also, in the long run.”

There was more shuffling of feet. Some of the board members looked at one another. There were a little whispering and low murmurs among a few of them although I didn’t see who was talking. At this point, I was hoping for some questions, but nobody said anything. I figured my three minutes were just about up. I had to make this fast.

“I have a suggestion for the Lovely Chocolate board members, which is that you speak with Miss Lovely and ask her to stop seeing this man, so that he can resume his life with his wife and children, and so also there would be no ripples throughout the community involving the reputation of Lovely Chocolates.”

I figured that was about it; that was just about all I could do. All eyes were upon me, and you could hear a pin drop. To break the silence, I asked, “Are there any questions?”

“I have a question, Mr. Smith,” said a younger-looking board member, probably in his fifties. “What’s in it for you?”

“Nothing. Nothing is in it for me,” I said. “Just the two things I mentioned before, keeping a family together and keeping the name of Lovely Chocolates out of the mud.”

Another voice spoke up, but I didn’t see who asked; the lenses made it hard to see. It said, “So… this isn’t a blackmail situation? You don’t want money for this information, or money to keep a scandal out of the newspapers?”

“No.” I said. “I don’t want that.” I was almost embarrassed by it, but since they didn’t know me, it was a legitimate question.

The board was quiet until the lady in purple said, “Is Mr. Smith your real name?” She had a bit of a British accent.

I hesitated for a moment. I had lied my way in there, and if I said, “Yes,” this would be another, probably obvious lie. I wanted them to know I was telling the truth.

“No.”

Mr. Ostrander said, “Why did you lie about your name, Mr. Smith?”

“Because I wish to remain anonymous.”

The board members looked at one another, and with that, Mr. Ostrander said, “Thank you, Mr. Smith. That’s three minutes, as we agreed on earlier. If there are any issues concerning this information, I suppose you could contact us, since I assume you won’t be leaving your address.”

I was a bit startled, not knowing how board members handled themselves in powerful situations; I nodded and walked towards the door. That was it, no follow-up, no more questions, no more answers. I had failed, again.

Once outside the room, I looked around the waiting area. The secretaries and receptionists were busy working; it was as though I was never there. I walked out of that room and down a hallway, towards the parking lot where I had left my car, but the sickness of my pre-board jitters caught up to me. It was time to find the nearest men’s room. I looked up and down the hall, but there were no public facilities to be seen. I pushed open a door marked “Workroom Floor” and saw lots of workers in a huge, gymnasium-sized warehouse, working near conveyer belts and putting chocolate products in packages. I guessed that this was the end of the line for Lovely Chocolates; the next step was shipping.

Looking around in the warehouse/workroom floor, I saw a door marked “Men.” I headed in that general direction, trying not to look out of place, and pushed open the door, finding a locker-room environment just inside. I walked through the locker area and found the stalls off to the left. Fortunately, nobody else was in there, and I picked the middle stall.