Date: Tue, 5 Dec 2000 06:37:15 -0800 (PST)
From: Orrin Rush <orrinrush@yahoo.com>
Subject: The Lifeguard - beginnings - college

         Disclaimer:  The following is a work of fiction.  If you are
         offended by graphic descriptions of homosexual acts, go
         somewhere else.

         Copyright c 2000 by Orrin C. Rush.  All rights reserved.

         Neither this story nor any parts of it may be distributed
         electronically or in any other manner without the express,
         written consent of the author.

         This is a work of fiction, any resemblance of the characters
         to anyone living or dead is pure coincidence and not
         intended.  They are all products of the author's imagination.

         --------------------------------------------------------------

                                 THE LIFEGUARD

                                   Chapter 31


         Although totally satisfied and spent, I had trouble going to
         sleep.  The image of the guy at the bar kept flashing through
         my head.  Trying to figure out what all this meant made it
         even harder to sleep.

         Naturally, I compared him to the sleeping beauty lying next
         to me.  Physically, there really wasn't any comparison.  The
         guy was kind of on the skinny side, not the sculpted
         perfection of Eric.  Their dicks were about the same, Eric's
         maybe not as thick, which I preferred.  Facially, they were
         different, both handsome, but Eric would win there too.

         There wasn't anything else to compare.  Hell I hadn't even
         talked to him, much less gotten to know him.

         It had to be the eyes.  There was something about them that
         drew me like a magnet.  I couldn't explain it, and that made
         me uncomfortable.

         Thinking more, unfortunately, I realized that in my mind, at
         least, it had been the other guy's dick I was sucking at the
         bar, not Erics.  A wave of guilt swept over me.  What the
         hell was wrong?  I loved Eric more than anything.  How could
         that guy have the effect that he did on me, and why was I
         helpless to do anything about it?

         I finally went to sleep...and dreamed about the guy in the
         bar.

                                       - - - - -

         After more than two weeks of not even thinking about
         business, I got a rude awakening when I got back to the
         office.  Everyone else seemed to be treating it as a "new
         beginning", more gung-ho than ever.

         First off, Bill hit me with the news that the new computers
         were selling faster than we were able to produce them.
         Stores had only bare-bones inventories and were screaming for
         more.  Since we were already running at capacity in those
         plants that were producing them, and if the trend continued,
         we'd be faced with the decision of whether or not to convert
         more production to the new ones at the expense of the old
         boxes, or, to expand.  As a stopgap measure, we were running
         24 hours a day, 7 days a week, but a decision would have to
         be made soon.

         Next came Tina with news that Invitations to Bid had been
         sent out for the new Office Building.  Responses on some
         phases, such as grading and excavation, were expected soon.
         More decisions.

         Annie roared in with the announcement that appraisals had been
         completed on all the major Catalina Pacific properties, and
         that the Development Analyses would be ready in a day or
         two.  She insisted that I set aside a whole day for the
         presentation that would be made by her Real Estate Guru.

         My plate was full, and I had to chuckle.  If Eric were in the
         middle of this chaos, he'd be screaming for mercy.  On the
         other hand, I thrived on it.

         There was more.  A memo from Ron requested major
         modifications of our hangar at the airport, turning it into a
         "Flight Operations Center" staffed and secure.  He pointed
         out that with the addition of the GV to our fleet in a few
         months, around a hundred million dollars worth of aircraft
         would be housed there.  He also requested permission to start
         looking for more qualified pilots.  Not only would we need at
         least two more, but reserves would soon be necessary.

         I responded to him by Email, approving his request, but
         asking to see the plans before he started building.  I gave
         him the go-ahead for more pilots, and asked him and Jason to
         come see me at their convenience.

         I wanted to talk to them about who would be in charge of
         things now and in the future.  With one plane it hadn't been
         necessary, but with three, we needed to have someone running
         things.  I hoped that one of them would accept the position.
         I knew it'd be a hard sell.  They liked to fly.

         I hate "Meetings".  They're so formal, and rarely accomplish
         much except to bore the crap out of the participants.
         Instead, I like informal, impromptu "bull sessions" with only
         the people directly involved.  I feel it's more productive
         when there aren't "presentations" and we just kick ideas
         around.  All the upper echelon at Metalco is used to this.
         Some didn't like my style, but we usually got results.

         The new computers were hot, and we needed to move fast or
         we'd lose control of the market.  We needed to look at our
         options fast, so I got on the phone.  I called Eric first to
         see if he could join us.  He estimated that his last
         interview of the day would be over by three, so that's the
         time I set for the bull session.

         Bill usually sat in because he was most familiar with the "Big
         Picture".  Mike, head of production, knew more about the
         capabilities of every plant we had than the Managers of
         them.  The Computer Sales Manager completed the group.

         After a kiss, Eric had to tease me. "Can't get along without
         me, huh?"

         "Sure as hell can't," Bill answered.  "Where've you been?"

         "I'm over at LR now so I can get something done.  The chaos
         around here is too much for me."

         Rita, the Computer Sales Manager, had come from Milton and
         hadn't met Eric before.  My back was turned so I didn't see
         her reaction to Eric's kiss.  Usually she was very serious,
         but that day, she was bubbling.  "We've got us a real
         winner," she said.  "Volume grew every week in December, then
         really took off the week before Christmas and is still
         growing.  Having the matching CRT Monitors did the trick."

         "Can you predict a trend?" I asked.

         "Not really," she said.  "We haven't anything to base it on.
         We can predict sales distribution throughout the year,
         though, based on the old boxes, but this is new and might not
         follow the same pattern.

         "The best indication I can give you is that everybody wants
         them.  Right now, we're only letting one customer have them,
         and the rest are clamoring.  What worries me is that they may
         go to somebody else."

         "Is there anybody else who can make them, in volume?" Eric
         asked.

         "Not really," Rita said.  "Not very fast, anyway.  It takes
         time to tool up for them, and then they have to be careful
         about patent infringement on our designs.  I'd say six months
         at least before we have any serious competition."

         "How are sales on the old boxes going?" I asked.

         "Maintaining projected levels and even growing a little," she
         answered.

         "Before we go any further, there's one big question," I
         said.  "Are we making any money on these things?"

         "They cost us about 25% more to make than the old ones, and
         we're getting double the price, giving us a gross margin of
         over 55%, which ain't too shabby," Bill answered.

         "What can we do, Mike?" Bill asked.

         "We're making them at three plants now," he said.  "We've
         been on two shifts, and we're bumping that up to three this
         week, so that'll give us about a 45% increase there.  We can
         change three more plants over, but that'll mean that we'll
         have to put the rest of Milton's plants on a triple shift to
         take up the slack on the old stuff.

         "If we start now, we can keep the old plant in New Jersey
         running for a while and buy new equipment for the new one.
         Being as big as it is, we could add a helluva lot of capacity
         there.

         "The only thing that worries me is that we'll overbuild and
         end up with overcapacity."

         "We haven't even touched the peripherals market, yet," Rita
         said.  "There'll be a huge aftermarket for printers, scanners
         and a lot of other things."

         "How about Metalco plants?" I asked.

         "We've already slipped the Monitor parts in on them," Mike
         said.  "We need more capacity there, too."

         "Are there any other companies that have what we need that we
         could buy?"  Eric asked.

         "That's a possibility," Bill said.  "I'll have an answer by
         morning.  Would you handle it for us, Eric?"

         "Sure, but no fee this time," he said.

         "How fast can you convert three more plants?" I asked Mike.

         "Sixty days with any luck," he said.  "I'll also look into
         equipment for New Jersey and let you know tomorrow."

         "If you can make 'em, we can sell 'em," Rita assured us.

         "It's nice to have everything running at capacity," I said,
         "but maybe we'd better get a few new plants on the drawing
         boards.  Looks like it's going to get kind of busy around
         here."

         "Can we shift any of this overseas?" Eric asked.

         "I'll get somebody on that, too," Mike answered.

         We kicked more ideas around for a while.  In my mind, at
         least, it was a foregone conclusion that we'd convert plants
         as fast as possible and at least double the size of the New
         Jersey facility.   Other new plants were looking like a good
         bet, too.

         "How'd your interviews go?" I asked Eric on the way home.

         "One's a possibility. I'm not too impressed with the other
         two.  One of them seems like a 'yes man' and the other
         doesn't show any energy.  I want somebody who's dynamic.
         Like we are!" he laughed.

                                       - - - - -

         As hard as I tried, I couldn't get that guy from New York out
         of my mind.  His image would keep popping up, deepening my
         feelings of guilt toward Eric.

         I tried not to overcompensate, but realized that I was giving
         Eric more attention unconsciously.  What was I guilty of?  I
         had no conscious desire to actually "do" anything with the
         guy, and certainly wouldn't, even if I had the opportunity.
         Hell, the chances of ever even seeing him again were one in a
         million.

         Those fucking eyes.  They had a Svengali like grip on me.
         Hopefully it would all fade away before I made a fool of
         myself.

         The hardest time for me was when we made love.  Whatever we
         did, as orgasm neared, those goddam eyes were there.  I have
         to admit, my orgasms were far more intense than usual.

         Having fantasies is commonplace, I knew.  My question was:
         Why was I fantasizing about somebody else when the embodiment
         of all my life-long fantasies was the living breathing man
         who made love to me every night?

         We all have our own concept of physical perfection, a
         collection of the attributes that we consider ideal.  Eric
         had them all.  The face, the body - muscular but not overly
         bulky, defined, wide shoulders tapering to a narrow waist - a
         hard tight butt - long strong but slender legs - and the dick
         I'd dreamed about since I was a teenager.

         Less than 2% of the male population are endowed with more
         than eight inches, and most of those that are that long are
         proportionally thick.  Eric wasn't.  At nine and a quarter,
         his was slender, by no means skinny, but in my mind, just
         right.  It got hard, too, no limp dick here, rigid enough to
         poke holes in tempered steel.

         That was all icing on the cake.  The package, so to speak.
         The contents were what really mattered.  The brilliant,
         funny, loving, caring man that came in that package was what
         I truly loved.  Those attributes far outweighed everything
         else.

         Why was that pair of eyes giving me so much grief?  If they
         didn't go  away soon, I decided to discuss it with Eric.

         Eric's interviewing was complete and he had selected two
         candidates.  Unless there was something he'd overlooked, I'd
         go along with his choice.  They were equally qualified, and
         now it was down to personalities.  Which one could we work
         with best.

         I went over to Eric's office at LR for the final interviews.
         Both had passed Bob's "Sensitivity Test", but I didn't push
         it by showing any affection.

         The first guy came in and I was introduced.  He showed self
         assurance without being agressive, and answered the questions
         Eric threw at him with ease and confidence.  It was my turn.
         I only had two questions.

         The first was "What do you expect the Company to look like
         two years from now?"

         He only thought a minute.  "In comparison to now, it will be
         unrecognizable.  Currently we're only partially exploiting
         the market that's out there for Software production, and
         there are so many more niche markets in the high-tech area
         that are just waiting for someone to step into.  Lundborg Rush
         will be well on it's way to a primary position in many of
         those markets."

         I noticed the "we".  My second was, "Where do you want to be,
         personally, in the company, by then?"

         "Titles don't mean anything.  Responsibilities and the
         authority to carry them out are important.  I get my big
         thrills and satisfaction from accomplishment."

         All very good.  He'd be a hard act to follow, but the next
         guy was every bit as good.

         "Well, what do you think?" Eric asked after the second one
         had gone.

         "I don't think you could go wrong with either one."

         "I agree, but that doesn't help me.  Come on, help me pick
         one."

         "I'm sure you're leaning toward one," I told him.  "You've
         talked to them a lot more than I have."

         "The first one, Warren, has a slight edge in the high-tech
         area, and that's what we are and where we want to go."

         "Then go for him."

         "It's settled, then?"

         "As far as I'm concerned, it is," I told him.  "I think
         you've made a good choice.  Now, I want the other one."

         "What!"

         "I want the other one to take over as Chief Operating Officer
         of Milton - if he's interested."

         "You asshole," he laughed.  "You let me do all the work, then
         help yourself!"

         "Have you talked salaries with either of them yet?"

         "That's the next step, I intend to call Warren and have him
         come back for that right now."

         I stood.  "Let's see if the other guy's left yet.  I'm going
         to give him MY pitch."

         We caught him at the elevator and asked him to come back in.
         Eric left the two of us alone in his office.

         I thought fast on how to approach him.  I decided to be
         direct, as usual.

         "You didn't get it," I said straight out.  "That is, you
         didn't get the COO job at Lundborg Rush, but I'd like to
         offer something else."

         The poor guy wilted then brightened.

         "As you probably know, I own Metalco.  Last year we bought
         Milton Manufacturing, which you also may have heard about.
         During the buyout, the old owners, who ran it, left, and we
         haven't filled any of the top slots yet.  Would you be
         interested in filling one of them?"

         "You've caught me totally off guard," he answered.

         "I know that, and I appreciate your position.  Hell you don't
         know anything about the company.  Before you decide, I'd like
         you to spend a little time with us and learn what we're all
         about.  That way you can make a good decision."

         "Of course, I'm interested," he said. "I'd like to know more,
         though."

         "Be at my office in the morning, it's right over there, 30th
         floor," I said, pointing at the building across the street.

         He was a happy but confused man.  Now, to break the news to
         Bill.

         Not surprisingly, Bill was delighted.  "We've been
         procrastinating long enough," he said. "There may be a couple
         who're pissed about us bringing in somebody from the outside,
         but if I'd felt that anybody we already have was ready, the
         job would already be filled."

         "That company has been running headless for too long," I
         agreed. "If he takes it, I think we've got a good man.  Eric
         did a good job."

         "As usual," Bill chuckled.

                                       - - - - -

         Jeff was waiting when I arrived.  We still had a sales job to
         do.

         First, I explained that Milton was a company "on the move"
         just like Lundborg Rush.  Being a lot older and more
         established, the moves weren't as flashy and dramatic, but,
         in reality were a lot larger.

         Bill joined us, fully prepared.  Jeff would be reporting to
         him, and I watched as rapport developed fast.

         They didn't stick around my office long, Bill wanted to
         introduce Jeff to more Metalco people so he could get a
         "feel" for the company.

         Eric joined us for lunch, and we all got to see another side
         of Jeff.  He was very easy-going, witty and funny.  I liked
         him already.  He also announced that he'd accept the job.
         His decision had been made overnight and the morning's
         meetings had totally convinced him.  He'd start in three
         weeks.

         Eric was jubilant.  "Can I pick 'em or what!"

         With that problem out of the way, he announced that he was
         going to work.  "Real work," he told me.  "I'm starting at
         the plant in the morning.  Not to just stand around and
         watch, but to actually get in there and do a job like
         everybody else."

         "You're actually going to do it?"

         "Hell yes," he said.  "That's the only way I'm ever going to
         learn. I want to know what I'm talking about."

         Long ago, I'd learned never to underestimate him, but for
         some reason I was a little surprised at this move.  It made
         me immensely proud that he wasn't taking anything for granted.

         He was up and dressed before I really got moving.  He was
         wearing a pair of khaki cargo pants that showed his gorgeous
         ass off to perfection.

         "Well, there goes the plant safety record," I commented dryly.

         "Huh?" he looked at me all confused.

         "Everybody'll be looking at your cute butt instead of what
         they're supposed to be doing," I laughed.

         "Should I change?"

         "Hell no!  If you've got it, flaunt it, and baby, you've GOT
         it!" I chuckled.

         He threw something at me.  "Sometimes I don't know when you're
         serious."

         "We're talkin' seriously beautiful butt here.  Just be sure
         to bring it home to me intact."

         "It'll be intact, but I'll bet it's kind of tired."

         "That's OK," I told him.  "That'll give me a good excuse to
         play with it."

         He gave me a quick kiss and ran.

                                     - - - - -

         The Real Estate presentation was scheduled for that day.  All
         day.  I hoped it wouldn't last that long and not be a lot of
         bullshit.  Annie had assured me that it wouldn't be.

         Eric hadn't felt it necessary to sit through it.  All he
         wanted was the summary and the numbers.

         What does a "Real Estate Guru" look like?  I had no idea what
         to expect, conjuring up images of a little fat man with a
         beard and long flowing hair sitting on a mountaintop
         someplace making pompous pronouncements.

         Heinrich Gibson turned out to be anything but that.  Short,
         yes, but  otherwise just an ordinary middle-aged businessman
         in appearance.

         Annie had filled me in on his credentials.  He was a
         nationally known "Land Planner", in heavy demand by private
         developers as well as government entities.  She told me that
         we were extremely lucky to have gotten him.

         He was very businesslike, but interesting.  His enthusiasm
         for the subject came across strongly and sucked me right in.

         The first project that he discussed was development of the
         raw land in the Silicon Valley.  First he described how it
         COULD be done for the quick buck, then he went on to tell how
         it SHOULD be done for maximum return and result in a
         development that would be so desirable it would sell itself.

         Saying that he hadn't had time to prepare a comprehensive
         plan, he gave us several options, all estimates, but ones he
         considered conservative.  The options covered selling the
         land as is, developing it to the lot stage, and building it
         out. The numbers were staggering.

         He went from project to project, all smaller than the first,
         but the ideas he had displayed enormous imagination and he
         never lost sight of the bottom line.

         Over lunch he told us how impressed he was with our decision
         to build such an architecturally different Company
         Headquarters.  "It's easy to build a box, but it takes real
         guts to undertake such a radical departure from the norm.
         Eventually, it'll be in textbooks, but you'll catch a lot of
         flack in the short run."

         "I wish my daughter Tina were here to hear that," I told
         him.  "She's behind the whole thing."

         "I'd love to meet her.  Working with Annie has been a real
         pleasure.  You are a fortunate father, Mr. Rush."

         He saved his obvious favorite project for last - the San Diego
         waterfront.  He'd given this one the most thought, and the
         concept he came up with was truly mind boggling.  Apartments,
         condos, offices, hotels, and commercial development made up a
         virtual city within a city that became a part of and enhanced
         the city itself.

         Tall, slender buildings with vast open space wouldn't wall
         off the bay, in fact, opening it up and providing better
         access for everyone.

         The day had flown by.  He handed us several copies of his
         report, explaining that it covered only the major projects.
         He just hadn't had time to do a proper job on the hundreds of
         smaller ones.

         "You understand, of course, that this is purely speculative.
         We have no idea, yet, if there is even a possibility of our
         acquiring this property," I told him.

         "Of course," he said.  "I truly do hope that you're
         successful and that I have an opportunity to work with you."

         "If we're successful, you can plan on it."

         After he left, Annie and I sat and contemplated for a moment.

         "What do you think?" she asked.

         "I knew it had potential, but I had no idea it could be this
         big.  It's going to take me a little time to digest."

         "It'd take an enormous commitment if we did it right," she
         said.  It's so big, so much money, that it scares the hell
         out of me."

         "Are you ready for a twenty year project?"

         "I'd have to think about that, too."

                                       - - - - -

         Eric came home late, his gorgeous ass dragging.

         "I was afraid an honest day's work would kill me, and it
         damned near did," he groaned, slumping on the couch.

         I got us a drink.  "Just so long as this is intact," I told
         him, rubbing his butt.  "How'd it go."

         He brightened fast.  "This is the only way I could ever
         really learn how it works.  It's fascinating.  I had no idea
         what was going on.

         "I was under the impression that the copiers spit out disks,
         then somebody stuffed them into a box.  Boy was I surprised!
         I just got an inkling today, and I can't wait to get back to
         learn some more."

         He told me in detail how the process worked, or at least as
         much of it as he'd seen in one day.  It was a learning
         process for me too.

         "They did exactly like I asked," he said.  "I was treated
         just like any other new employee.  No fanfare.  They started
         me on one of the slower lines with a Supervisor training me
         for a couple of hours.  It's not hard work, but it's tedious,
         fast, and requires a lot of manual dexterity.  You've got to
         pay attention or you can screw things up in a hurry.

         "I guess I caught on pretty fast because they moved me up to
         faster and faster lines.  The time just disappeared.

         "Tomorrow, I'm going to learn more about quality control and
         tracking, whatever that is."

         In the hot tub after dinner, he was still bubbling.  He was
         justifiably proud of the fact that he'd been able to "cut
         it", and realized that he had so many questions to ask about
         "why" things were done the way they were.

         In bed, I got him to lie on his stomach and straddled him for
         a good backrub.  Not much was said other than groans and
         after only a few minutes, I realized that he'd gone to sleep.

         Eric was coming out of the shower when I woke.  He sat down
         on the bed after giving me a peck.

         "I'm really sorry about last night, babe," he told me.

         "Why?"

         "For crapping out on you, and not having the good manners to
         ask how the Catalina Pacific presentation went yesterday."

         "No problem at all.  You were tired and excited.  My poor
         baby needs his rest now that he's gone 'blue collar' on me,"
         I teased.

         "How did the presentation go?"  He ignored me.

         "Annie's 'Guru' really knows his stuff.  It's Friday, so
         we've got all weekend to talk about it.  How long are you
         planning on working out there, anyway?"

         "At least another week, maybe longer.  We'll see.  Does the
         CLP thing look pretty good?"

         "Better than good," I told him.  "Wait'll tomorrow, we'll go
         over it in detail."

         I ran into Annie in the kitchen.  "Can I have a little of
         your time this morning, Dad?  I've got a lot more stuff to
         show you that Henry didn't cover yesterday."

         "Anytime, just come on in," I told her.

         Bill followed me into the building.  "Sorry I was tied up
         yesterday, how did your meeting go?"

         "I'll let you judge for yourself.  I've got a 'book' for you
         to read over the weekend," I told him.

         "It must've been good to hold your attention all day," he
         commented dryly.

         "The guy is good, and what he's come up with is rather thought
         provoking.  I'd like your opinion on it."

         "You've got me really curious now, I can't wait."

         Annie never walked into a room, at least not around the
         office.  She roared in.  This morning was no exception.

         "Hot off the wire," she said.  "It's just a rumor, but it's
         sure worth investigating."

         "What now?" I asked.

         "One of my 'sources' just let me know that there's a rumor
         that's been going around for years that CP's land out in the
         desert has undeveloped mineral resources worth millions,
         maybe even billions."

         "Oh shit," I said.  "After yesterday, I don't think I can
         take any more."

         "Dad, did you have any idea what we were getting into when you
         started poking around in this thing?"

         "I knew they had a lot of land, but what we're finding is
         getting to be kind of scary.  It's just too good to be true."

         "Wait'll you see the appraisals on the property Henry didn't
         cover yesterday."

         "Before we do that, there are two things I'd like you to do
         for me," I said.  "First, I'd like to have you spend a little
         time with Tina and bring her up to speed on what's happening
         on this thing, then I want us all to get together Sunday for
         a 'Family Meeting' on this.  By then, Eric will've read
         everything, and we can all take a look at what we want to do."

         "I definitely want Eric in on it," she said.  "I think that's
         a good idea.  If I can drag Tina away from her Architect
         boyfriend this afternoon, I'll talk to her.  If not, I'll do
         it tomorrow."

         Annie left me a summary of the appraisals that had been made
         so far, covering about 60% of the total.  I went straight to
         page 14 to look at the total.  Another mind-boggling figure,
         and it represented only the current market value of bare land!

         I knew how appraisers worked.  Bare land was tricky to value
         unless there had been a lot of sales activity in the area to
         provide comparables, or "comps".  Positive and Negative
         features of the specific parcel were factored in, and a value
         of the property was arrived at.  That, of course, didn't
         guarantee that you could actually sell the property for that
         amount.

         I took the appraisal and one of Henry's books into my
         "working" office and built a "What if?" model.  I used only
         the "known" factors, playing with the numbers and tweaking
         them to cover various scenarios.

         My objective wasn't to find out how much money could be made
         on the deal, but how much we could pay for the company using
         the various criteria I had established.

         Under every scenario I could come up with, the amount we could
         reasonably pay turned out to be much higher than I imagined
         we would have to go.

         I had been so engrossed that I'd worked right through lunch,
         and realized it was time to go home.  I saved the enormous
         files on a zip disk so I could take them home and go over
         them with Eric.

                                       - - - - -

         He wasn't quite as exhausted as the night before, but as
         enthusiastic as ever.  After dinner, he wanted to dive into
         the CP project, but I talked him out of it.  "If we get into
         it, we'll be up all night," I told him.  "I have some better
         ideas on how to spend it," I leered.

         I was giving him another massage when he totally surprised me.

         "Hey, I've been meaning to ask you something," he said.

         "What?"

         "What was the deal with that guy and the 'eyes' thing in New
         York?"

         "I don't know," I hedged.

         "C'mon, something must have happened."

         "He was just staring at me when he got off, that's all," I
         said.

         "Got you off too, I think.  You caught me totally off-guard."

         "I guess."

         "Am I making you uncomfortable, by any chance?" he asked,
         chuckling.

         "A little."

         "Why? he was a hot guy, nothing wrong with that," he
         continued.  "Does it bother you that you got off on another
         guy?"

         "Not so much that," I told him, "It's just that I can't seem
         to get him out of my mind."

         He scooted me off and rolled on his back.  I climbed back on
         his hips, our hard dicks touching.

         He was grinning widely.  "Have we been fantasizing just a
         little?"

         "Afraid so, and I don't like it.  The asshole got to me, I
         guess."

         "He did have hypnotic eyes.  I've gotta tell ya, I've thought
         of him a time or two myself."

         "You're kidding!  You're just saying that to make me feel
         better."

         "Hell no.  We all fantasize about somebody else once in a
         while.  Don't worry about it.  I do feel sorry for the guy,
         though."

         "Why?"

         "He only got to get off on your eyes once.  I get to do it
         all the time - like right now.  Hand me the lube."

         He stroked our dicks, together, with both hands, his eyes
         glued to mine.  I saw love and understanding on that
         beautiful grinning face. Another one of my problems defused.

                                      - - - - -

         Eric dug right into Henry's Book.  He didn't comment, then
         looked at the appraisal summary.

         "I can see why you're a little overwhelmed by this," he
         said.  "I don't think any of us had an idea of how much is
         really there."

         "Frankly, it scares the hell out of me."

         "I can see why.  Have you decided what you're going to do?"

         "Sort of, but there are still a lot of 'if's.  First, I'll
         only do it if it's done right.  Then, Annie and Tina have to
         want to get involved because this thing is going to take at
         least ten, maybe 20 years.

         "It'll have to be a stand-alone entity after our initial
         investment, and I want our investment paid back in five
         years.  Any future debt taken on for development will have to
         be based on it's own assets, no guarantees from Metalco or me
         personally."

         "That makes damn good business sense," he commented.  "No way
         should you jeopardize anything else."

         "Over the next five years, we could sell off the marginal
         pieces to recoup our investment without doing anything else.
         According to my calculations, that would only amount to about
         60% of the land on that appraisal, selling at half of the
         appraised value."

         "I'm sure you could do better than half, more like 90% if the
         appraisers are any good."

         "I'm being very conservative," I told him.  "I just heard you
         use a word I don't like.  In fact, you used it twice."

         "What?" he was puzzled.

         "You!"  I said.  "Don't ever think for a minute that you're
         not going to be a part of this!"

         "Oh shit, here we go again!"

         "No arguments, dammit.  You're my partner and that's that.
         The girls want you involved, too!  I'll make damned sure you
         earn it."

         "Don't get excited.  Maybe a little piece."

         "We'll work it out," I assured him, laughing.  "Let's get
         back to the numbers."

         "How high do you think WE'll have to go?"

         "The market price, right now, is under a half billion for
         both the Railroad and the Development Company, but we're not
         going to get them for anything like that.  Those guys aren't
         THAT stupid.  In my opinion, we could go as high as six
         billion.  But, I think we can do it for under three."

         "Even that's a lot of money!"

         "First, let's decide if we even want it and what we want to
         do with it, then we can worry about buying it."

         We spent several hours at the computer playing with numbers.
         We tried every scenario we could think of, coming up with
         favorable results with whatever we tried.

         "There's something wrong here," Eric said.  "It's just too
         goddam good to be for real."

         "I don't think so," I answered.  "I think it's just a
         question of time and neglect.  It's just been sitting there,
         nobody paying any attention to it for years, and I'll bet
         that nobody has even looked at an inventory of the property
         in 20 years - that's if anybody has taken the trouble to make
         one up.

         "People like Edgar and Burdette know about the big stuff -
         like the San Diego waterfront and the tract in Silicon
         Valley, but the rest has just slipped through the cracks.
         Their thinking is based on those two, I'll bet.  We'll find
         out when we talk to Burdette."

         "And we're sure not gonna clue 'em in, right?"

         "Why should we?  We're doing our homework.  When we talk to
         Burdette, I think we should emphasize that the San Diego land
         is what we're interested in, and if Silicon Valley comes up,
         we can treat it as 'that, too', no big deal.  San Diego alone
         would justify the whole deal."

         "I don't consider that deceptive," he commented.  "We don't
         have to tell anyone everything we know."

         "I agree."

         "I think we can plan on Annie and Tina going along, Annie for
         sure, and I know you and I want to do it, so what's next?"

         "How about you getting together with Ryan and setting up an
         appointment with Burdette for week after next, and we can go
         from there?" I answered.

         "That'll work," he said.  "Another week at the plant should
         about do it for me."

         We spent the rest of the day kicking around ideas about what
         we'd have to do if we did put the deal together.  It was
         exciting and gave us both an opportunity to be creative.

         We met with the girls on Sunday as planned.

         Annie started the conversation.  "Can I start?" she asked.
         When we all nodded, she continued.  "Aside from the fact that
         we stand to make a killing, I'm all for going ahead for other
         reasons, but I have some conditions.

         "Only if we do it 'right', no slash and burn."

         "Your Dad and I agree with you there," Eric said.

         "It's not an ego thing," she said, "no 'monuments' to any of
         us, but something we can be proud of.  If we use the right
         people, we can accomplish that.  I'm also willing to make a
         long term commitment to stick with it, too."

         "What do you think, Tina?" I asked.

         "I'm only just now beginning to understand the size of what
         you're talking about.  I'm also realizing how little I know
         about all this.  I have a lot to learn, but I'm more than
         willing to do as much as I can."

         "Another thing," Annie added, "this may be a 'family'
         venture, but I want Eric involved in everything - including
         ownership."

         "Why?" he asked.

         "We need you," she said.  "I've seen what you've done so far,
         and we need somebody like you to help all of us with the
         problems that will, no doubt, come up.  You and Dad are an
         unbeatable team."

         I smiled at him.  My sentiments exactly.

         We spent several hours going over the financial aspects that
         Eric and I had agreed on, with Annie insisting that Henry
         look over each and every parcel before we put it up for sale.

         "He's got the capability of seeing things we may miss," she
         said, "hidden potential that we don't want to overlook."

         Tina was looking dazed.  I looked at her questioningly.

         "I feel like I'm at an Air Show," she said.  "Everything's
         going over my head!"

                                       - - - - -

         Everybody went back to work on Monday.

         Bill wandered in first thing.  "You didn't tell me just how
         interesting that reading was going to be," he said.  "I had
         no idea!"

         "Did I give you a copy of the appraisal summary?"

         "No," he said.

         I found a copy and handed it to him.  "Just go to the last
         page," I told him.

         "I've gotta sit down," he groaned.  "This is unbelievable."

         "That's only part of it," I told him, "there's still more to
         come."

         "Do you really think you can pull this off?"

         "I don't know," I told him honestly.  "With Eric's help I do
         give us a better than 50/50 chance, though."

         "Any idea what it's going to cost us?"

         "It's not going to be cheap.  I want you to build us a war
         chest.  Between the excess cash we've got, and the banks, I'd
         like to have $3 billion available, and I'd like to have
         another $3 billion committed if we need it."

         "I don't see any problem with that," he said, "at least the
         first part.  How soon will you need it?"

         "We're meeting with Burdette next week.  That will give us an
         idea of how long this is going to take.  And Bill," I said,
         "this is going to be a family project, at first, at least.
         Everybody's involved.  Don't want you to feel left out."

         "Just let me know what's going on.  Even if you have to pay
         six billion, I think you'll be getting a bargain."

         I got a wild idea and called my personal Stockbroker.

         I asked him to buy me a hundred thousand shares of CLP
         Railroad and a like amount of CLP Development.

         "Have you lost your mind?" he asked.  "Nobody in their right
         mind would buy those dogs."

         "Don't ask questions," I chuckled.  "Just do it and keep your
         mouth shut."

         "OK," he said, "knowing you, you're up to something.  How
         high you want to go?  Hold on a minute."

         He was evidently pulling them up on his computer.

         "The Railroad's going at eleven and a quarter, and the
         Development Company is at five and a half."

         "Try to hold it under 15 on the Railroad and 8 on the other
         one.  Let me know as soon as you've got them."

         He called back in less than an hour.  "Got the Railroad at
         twelve and a half average, and the other one at six and an
         eighth."

         "Do it again," I instructed.

         Before the market closed, I'd bought 600,000 shares of the
         railroad and 400,000 of the Development Company.  That was a
         start.

         Over dinner, I told the troops what I'd done.

         Annie was surprised but delighted.  "You don't fool around,
         Dad," she said.  "But won't you give yourself away when they
         find out it's you buying up their stock?"

         "No," I explained.  "It's held by the Brokerage House in
         what's called a 'Street Name'.  I'm not identified."

         "Why are you buying the Development Company stock?" Eric
         asked.  "When we get the Railroad, we'll have control anyway."

         "Yes," I agreed, "we'll have control, but we'll still have to
         buy up all the rest of the stock if we want to take it
         Private.  I'm just pulling one of your stunts, picking up a
         few bargains."

         He just shook his head and grinned at me.  For a change, I
         was ahead of him.

         I started playing "What if?" with the Railroad stock.  From
         public records, we knew that Edgar held roughly 28%, Burdette
         another 20% and a couple of other big investors an additional
         11%.  Only 41% was in public hands.

         If we could get Burdette and the other investors on our side,
         we'd still need to buy almost half of the publicly held stock
         in order to obtain numerical control.  We'd have to go around
         Edgar.  I seriously doubted that he'd even talk to us, much
         less sell out to us.

         All of our concentration had been on the Development Company's
         assets.  We'd totally forgotten the Railroad.  There was
         value there, too.

                                   - - - - -

         Eric's week at the factory was up, and he announced that he
         wasn't going back.  Word had leaked out that he wasn't just
         another new hire but President of the Company, so he felt he
         would be given preferential treatment and not be able to
         learn as effectively.

         "I sure as hell don't know everything," he admitted, "but, at
         least now I know which questions to ask."

         We spent the weekend honing our strategy.  Burdette was the
         key.  If he went along with us, we had a chance, so our
         meeting with him was crucial.

         According to Ryan, he wanted out of CLP, but he was no
         dummy.  He wouldn't be in his preeminent position if he
         were.  How to convince him?

         Neither Eric nor I really knew him. Our only contact had been
         a social gathering and we had no idea how he approached
         business.  Eric called Ryan to try to get some clues, but
         came back with only the information that Burdette was a
         "straight shooter".

         Finally, we stopped trying to second-guess the situation and
         decided to go with the direct approach.  If it worked, it
         worked.  If it didn't, it didn't.

         To be continued.

         AUTHOR'S NOTE:  I appreciate hearing your comments on the
         story, my writing, and anything you would like to offer -
         good or not so good.  Send me a message at
         orrinrush@yahoo.com and also let me know if you would like to
         be included on my "alert" mailing list for new postings.