Date: Wed, 10 May 2000 20:48:41 -0700 (PDT)
From: Orrin Rush <orrinrush@yahoo.com>
Subject: The Lifeguard 17

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.


                      THE LIFEGUARD

                        Chapter 17

On the way home, I was alternately disappointed and furious.  It
wasn't really safe for me to be on the highway in this frame of mind,
so I made a conscious effort to calm down.

It was OK to be angry, but I needed to get over that if I expected to
think rationally and find a solution.  It would take a little time,
but needed to be done.

Eric's smile went away the minute he looked at me.

"What the hell happened?" he wanted to know.

"The Miltons are at it again," I said, and went on to tell him what
we'd learned.  His reaction was much the same as mine, and for the
next hour the air was filled with expletives while we vented.

"This isn't getting us anywhere," he finally said.

"It sure felt good, though," I answered.

"We've gotta cool down and take a hard look at this," he sensibly
suggested.

"I know," I said, "enough!"

With effort, we tried to discuss the situation calmly.  We were
between a rock and a hard place, and the feeling of helplessness
wasn't very appetizing.

We weighed options, but all were soon discarded.

"How about the Japanese?" I asked.  "Maybe we could find a connection
there."

"Worth a try," Eric agreed.

I called security, and asked them to do some digging.  I wasn't the
first to ask, someone had already asked for that information, and
they were working on it.  Before I hung up, Eric interrupted, "Ask
them what they have on Sarah Milton," he requested.  Security agreed
to find out what they could on her and fax it to us.

"What do you have in mind?" I asked him.

"They can't ALL be crooks," he said.  "She's the biggest stockholder,
and maybe she's the key to this whole thing."

"How so?" I asked.

"If you were getting ripped off the way she is, wouldn't you like to
know about it?" he asked.

"Two problems with that," I said.  "First, she wouldn't believe us,
and second, we can't reveal our proof because of the way we got it."

"Maybe not," he said.  "A lot depends on her, whether she's a savvy
lady who knows a little about business, and how she gets along with
her brothers.  If we knew more about that, maybe you could approach
her directly."

"That's a real long-shot," I said, "but it's worth a try."

I called Security again and gave them more specific instructions on
what to look for, asking for top priority on this.  I also requested
that they send us even bits and pieces as they found them, not to
wait until they had a full report.

The more I thought about Eric's idea, the more intriguing it became.
This might work.

"I don't think it'd be right for us to contact her directly," I
offered.

"Who cares?" he said, "as long as it gets the job done and doesn't
set you up for lawsuits.  By the way, do you have hard copy of the
'proof'?"

"I don't know," I answered.

"Who would know?" he asked.

"Bill, probably," I said.

"Let's call him and find out, we might need it," he said.

I called the office again.  Bill was in a meeting, big surprise, but
was pulled out immediately.

I asked him about the hard copy.  "We have it," he said, "but that's
pretty dangerous stuff.  Do you really want to see it?  It isn't even
here, but I can get it for you."

"I don't want it yet," I told him.  "I just wanted to know if we have
it in case I need it.  We're working on something."

"I can bet!  You and Eric!  Want to tell me what?" he said.

"Not yet," I said.  "We'll let you know if it works out."

"They've got it?" Eric asked after I hung up.

"We can get it," I said.  "That stuff is too hot to even have around.
Bill's got it stashed someplace."

Mary came in.  "Now that you guys have stopped yelling, dinner's
ready.  Do you want it in here or the dining room?" she asked.

"How about here, in about twenty minutes?" I asked.  "I need a drink
first."

Eric made our drinks, and we started playing "What If", running
through every scenario we could think of.

We continued while we ate, bouncing ideas off of each other.

The first fax to come in was about the Japanese.  There wasn't really
much on the four pages, nothing we could use.

The next one, about a half hour later dealt with Sarah.  It was
newspaper stuff that had probably been pulled off the internet, but
was excellent background.

Sarah was 76, a widow, and one of the Grande Dames of New York
society - not the newly rich that you see in the tabloids, but the
OLD money society that shunned publicity.

Eric and I read on avidly.

She was active in charity work and was a philanthropist who gave vast
sums to worthy causes.  Her involvement didn't stop there, she
actively worked with the beneficiaries of her largess, rolling up her
sleeves and digging in.

More about her wit and humor, and her fame as a hostess.

This information, along with a few other details, was repeated in
most of the articles.  We were nearing the end when Eric let out an
"Aha!  This is one of the things we've been looking for."

It was an old article, from more than 20 years ago.  It was a
husband/wife story about the "most successful partnership" of Sarah
and her husband, Dr. Thornton.

It detailed how Dr. Thornton, a noted surgeon, was strictly a medical
man, and that his wife, an heiress, was the business brains of the
family.  The Doctor was a doctor, and Sarah ran the cash register.

The article also briefly mentioned that Sarah had inherited a
sizeable fortune, and, through shrewd investments, had amassed one of
the great furtunes of the time.

Bingo!  She knew the ins and outs of the business world!

Nowhere in any of the articles was there any mention of her family,
her brothers or Milton Manufacturing.

"What do you think?" Eric asked.

"She speaks the lingo," I offered.  "She evidently knows her way
around the business world, and might, just might, listen to us."

"Do you think it's worth the risk?" he asked.

"We won't know unless we try, or the rest of the gang comes up with
something better," I said.  "If we lay it all out, with proof, she
may go for it."

To be ready in case we decided to follow this line, I called Security
and requested that they find Mrs. Thornton's home phone number for
me.  They considered that an easy request, and promised to call me
back with it in 15 minutes.

It was nearing midnight, but I felt sure they were still
brainstorming at the office.  I called, and was put through to Bill.

"Have you come up with anything yet?" I asked.

"Not yet," he said.  "We keep running into dead-ends."

"We may have something," I told him.  "Eric had an idea and it just
might work."

"Tell me what it is," he asked.

"Paybacks are a bitch, Bill.  We'll tell you in the morning over
breakfast," I told him.  "You'll have to wonder until then.  It might
be a good idea to get all the top guys there, too.  Have somebody
order breakfast for us in my office at 9:00."

"Asshole," he chuckled.

"You made me wait overnight, now it's your turn," I told him.

"We'll be here at nine," he assured me.

After Security called with Sarah's phone number, we headed for bed.

"If this works, you can have anything you want," I told Eric on the
way.

"I just want your hot body, right now!" he answered.

                               - - - - -

We were up early.  We'd decided that around 10:00, Eastern Time,
would be the best time to call.  I rehearsed what I would say in my
head several times.

It was time.

A female of indeterminate age answered.

"May I speak with Mrs. Thornton?" I asked.

"This is she," she answered.

"Mrs. Thornton," I continued, "this is Dave Rush from California."

There was a pause, then, "Oh yes, you're the one buying Milton
Manufacturing.  How can I help you?"

"I'd like to talk to you about that," I said.

"Why certainly," she said.  "I don't know much about the company, but
I'd be glad to talk to you. When would be a good time?"

"Would you be available anytime tomorrow?" I asked.

"All day," she said.  "Would 1:00 be convenient?"

"We will be there," I told her.

As soon as I hung up the phone, both Eric and I let out a whoop.
Step one accomplished.

I called Security again to get her address, and called Ron and Jason
to tell them to gas up the plane.  We'd leave that afternoon.

My office was full of bleary eyed executives, and food carts were
lined down the side of the conference table.  We filled our plates
and sat down at the head of the table, prolonging the suspense.

"You guys come up with anything?" I asked cheerfully.

"Not a damned thing," John answered.  "You got anything?"

"I don't," I said, "but Eric does.  I'll let him tell you about it."
I sat back.

"We have an appointment with Sarah Thornton tomorrow at 1:00," he
said.

"Who the hell is she?" someone asked.

"The older sister of the Milton brothers and the majority owner of
Milton Manufacturing." He paused.  "We intend to visit her tomorrow,
and, depending on how receptive she is, lay all of our cards on the
table."

"You can't do that!" John wailed.

"I've been hearing that all my life," I piped up.  "It's time to
break the rules."

"You're nuts!" Bill commented.

"I've been hearing that all my life, too," I told him.  "It's the
best shot we've got."

"What if she's not receptive?" someone asked.

"We'll have to go by gut instinct on that," I said.  "If it looks like
she won't listen, we'll fold our tent and leave."

"Do you realize the legal ramifications?" Bill asked.  "If you show
her our 'proof' and it gets into the wrong hands, we could get sued
by just about everybody, not just the Milton brothers."

"That's a possibility," Eric said, "but I don't think we'd show her
the 'proof' unless we were pretty sure it would be well received.  I
think we can trust Dave to make that decision."

That statement put the matter to rest.  It was now up to us to pull
it off.

"Even though I think you two are crazy as hell, if anybody can do it,
you guys can," Bill said.  "You have my blessing, and I'll be praying
that it works."

"What exactly do you hope to accomplish?" someone asked.

"Best case scenario," Eric said, "would be that she steps in and
straightens things out.  People who've been so royally screwed
normally try to put a stop to it."

"What happens if it doesn't work out that way?" John asked.

"We turn to plan B," I said.  "We run like hell."

"At this point, that's about our only other option," Bill said.

After promising to call in a report the minute the meeting was over,
we went home to pack.

On the way home, Eric suggested that we stay at one of the Chateau
hotels.

"You got the oil?" I asked.

"Gallons," he laughed.  "We've got a lot of hotels to break in."

I got Dan busy making the arrangements.

He called back with the details.  It would be the smallest "boutique"
hotel that we owned.  "Might be interesting," he said, "you've got
the bridal suite," he added, giggling, "and they know 'who' you are,
so keep the moaning to a minimum."

"We'll try," I assured him.

The hotel turned out to be a real gem.  A four-story converted
brownstone in a mostly residential area.  From the lobby to our room,
there was warmth, enhanced by the friendly, helpful people who ran
the place.  There was no restaurant or bar, but we were told that
many excellent restaurants in the area would provide room service if
we wanted it.

We'd both napped on the plane, but decided to stay in.  Eric ordered
dinner from one of the many menus.

Kicked back after dinner, I observed that this was a lot like the
"barn" in the woods that Eric had taken us to many months before.

"That's a night I'll never forget," he said.

"Neither will I," I answered.

"Give me a few minutes to get things ready, and we'll do it again,"
he said.

We decided to forego the oil treatment.  The candles set the mood
suffiently.

Eric was gentle, stroking and warming me, but very much in charge,
like he had been the first time.  Slowly and sensuously, our ardor
grew.  He carefully prepared me for entry, and when he started his
inward journey, it felt good to me all the way.

His long strokes felt so good that I wanted him to continue forever.
I built, I could feel him building.  We were both fighting to prolong
it, but lost control as the waves of pleasure swept us away.  Our
orgasms were much more intense than the first time, lasting a lot
longer too.

                               - - - - -

Sarah answered the door to her penthouse apartment herself. For 76,
she was well preserved, looking more like 50.  The first thing about
her that I noticed was the mischevious twinkle in her eyes.

I introduced myself, and Eric as my "partner".

At this she arched an eyebrow, looked at me, then Eric and smiled.

"Come in," she said leading us inside.

After seating us, she said "Please call me Sarah, I don't stand on
formality."

Quite a change from her prissy brothers, I thought, and it was
settled that we were "Dave" and "Eric".

"I understand that you're taking over the old company next week," she
said.

"We're having some problems," I told her, "that's why we're here."

"What have those idiot brothers of mine done now?" She asked.

That is what both of us had been hoping against hope that we'd hear,
even stronger than we could have hoped for.  I glanced at Eric, who
was doing his best to contain his excitement, and decided to take the
plunge.

"They've been looting the company for years," I said.  "Last week
they made a final raid that's going to force us to back out."

"I'm not the least bit surprised," she said, "and I don't blame you.
What, exactly, have they done?"

I glanced at Eric, tossing the ball to him.

"We've looked at their records covering the last six years," he said,
"and found a large number of employees who are paid big salaries but
don't really exist, and payments for enormous purchases of steel that
never were received.  We've traced the money to offshore accounts
belonging to Edward and John."

"And you still want to buy the company?" she asked.  "How much did
they get away with?"

"We thought we could plug the leaks," Eric said.  "During the last
six years, we estimate that $3 billion was drained from the company."

"In addition to all their other faults, they're greedy," she said.
"What was their latest stunt?"

"Last week, more than $800 million in steel purchases showed up on
the books," Eric continued.  "We're not supposed to know about that,
and since we suspect that they don't represent real purchases, are
afraid that we'll be stuck with paying for them."

"I wouldn't blame you for backing out," she said.  "I assume you have
proof of all this?"

"We have proof, but I'm afraid it won't stand up in court," I
answered a bit sheepishly.

"I'll take your word for it," she said, smiling knowingly.  "Now,
what can we do to straighten this out.  I need to think about this."

I thought we were being dismissed, but she picked up a small bell
from the table beside her.  It tinkled and a maid appeared.  "We'll
have tea," she said, and the maid disappeared.

"Give me a moment," she said, and turned to look out the window.

We waited.  The maid returned with a silver tea service that was a
museum piece.  She poured.  We sipped and waited some more in silence.

We're off the hook, I thought.  She isn't asking for the "proof" that
was in an envelope in my pocket.  I felt she believed us, and may be
able to provide the solution.

"This is a family matter," she said, "and I don't want our dirty
laundry aired in public.  There will NOT be a scandal.  I don't need
to tell you what I'm going to do, but I assure you that the matter
will be taken care of."

She sipped her tea.  "If the $800 million is removed from the books,
will you still be interested in buying?" she asked.

"Definitely," I answered.

"It can't be done by Tuesday, so can we set March 15th for the
transfer?" she asked.

"No problem for us," I said.

"I would appreciate your advising my brothers that you're not going
to go through with the purchase.  Any good faith money that you've
put up will be returned.  From now on, you will deal only with me,"
she said.

"That's fine with us," I said.  "We'll notify your brothers tomorrow."

"Also, please continue to monitor them," she said, her eyes
twinkling, "they may try something else in the next few days, and
you're in a better position to find it than I am.  Please keep me
informed."

"We'd be happy to do that," Eric said.

She rose, the meeting was over.

"Hopefully," she said, "when this dreadful mess is cleaned up, I can
see you two charming gentlemen under more pleasant circumstances."

"We look forward to that," I answered.

We walked a couple of blocks in silence before trying to hail a cab.

"You did it," I calmly stated to Eric.

He let out a whoop that got the attention of everyone in sight. "And
you still have a sealed envelope in your pocket!" he said.

"Thank God we didn't have to use it," I said.  "I'm nervous just
packing it around."

A cab slowed and we jumped in.

"I'm sure glad that lady's on our side," he said.  "As cool as she
is, I'd hate to have her get pissed at me!  I can't believe how cool
she was when I told her those assholes had screwed her out of a
couple of billion dollars!  I'd have come unglued!"

"I wonder what she's going to do," I mused.  "I'd sure love to be a
fly on the wall.  We probably won't learn much, but I'm going to have
that office put under 24 hour surveillance as fast as I can."

"Good idea," he said.  "I wouldn't put it past them to try to burn
the place down and destroy the evidence."

At the hotel, Eric called Bill with the news, then we packed our bags
and headed for the airport.

Monday afternoon, a courier delivered my letter to the Milton
brothers.  They didn't respond.

By Wednesday, the $800 million in payables had been removed from
their books.  We waited to see what would happen next.  As far as we
could tell, there were no more suspicious transactions.

On Friday, Sarah called.  "We're ready whenever you are," she said.

"How about Monday?" I asked.

"That would be fine," she said.  "10:00 at the office in New Jersey."

"We'll be there," I told her.

"Don't forget your checkbook!" she laughed.

Our delayed plan of action was re-activated and the troops would be
deployed over the weekend.  There would be no mistaking who was in
charge.

                               - - - - -

Annie and Bill joined us on the trip.  Bill, as President of the
company would sign all the papers.

Sarah was waiting for us, and greeted us warmly.  Edward and John
were conspicuous by their absence.

After introductions, she explained that she was President, Secretary
and a whole bunch of other things, but only long enough to complete
the transaction.

She got right down to the matters at hand.  She signed everything
first, then handed them to Bill who added his signature.  When
everything was signed, Bill handed her a copy of the bank
instructions.  Our bank would be transferring the funds to their
bank.  Their bank would then distribute the funds to Milton's
shareholders in whatever manner they had been instructed.  Who got
what was none of our business.

She rose and walked over to me.  "Congratulations, Dave," she said.
"You now own it.  I wish you all the luck in the world."

"Thank you, Sarah," I said.  That was it.  It was a done deal,
accomplished in record time despite all the snags we'd encountered.
In one fell swoop, Metalco had grown by almost 25%.

Sarah then pulled me away from the others.  "I was serious the other
day," she said, "you'll be spending a lot of time here, now, so let
me know when you and your charming 'partner' are in town."

I promised to do that.  The meeting was over.  Sarah left, and we
were alone in what used to be Edward and John's office.

"I'd like to look around," Bill said.

"Me too," Annie piped up.

The Plant Manager took us on a tour.  It was huge, consisting of a
lot of four story brick buildings covering a lot of land.  I
recognized Metalco people everywhere, passing out letters to Milton
employees explaining the situation.  This would be happening across
the country at every Milton plant.  Metalco plants, around the world,
would be going through the same process.

Payroll procedures for the next pay period would be
changed for all Milton employees.  There would be no direct
deposits.  Metalco people would be physically handing out
checks - to only living, breathing people who were on the job.
This might cause some inconvenience, but would eliminate
the "phantoms" and save us about $7 million a month.  The
leak-plugging process was underway.

The offices were abuzz when we got back there.  They'd learned about
the takeover, too, and it appeared that most were happy with the
change.  In our letter, we had done our best to dispel any fears
about the upcoming changes, promising that there wouldn't be mass
layoffs.

Things were proceeding as planned.  Our people had done their job
well.

On our way back to the Plaza, one of Bill's comments was "I know our
production people will want to shut that plant down as soon as they
can.  They'll want to get everything on one level for efficiency."

"Don't even think about tearing it down," Annie chimed in.  "It'd be
perfect for a shopping center, like Ghirardelli Square in San
Francisco.  If you move out, can I have it?"

"You're way ahead of me," I said.

Back at the hotel, Eric and Annie went shopping, Bill and I talked.

"We owe Eric a lot for this one," he said.  "Was it his idea to go to
Sarah, or was it really yours?"

"His entirely," I said.  "He's young and ballsy, not like us old
farts.  He gets full credit, and I want you to know I'm not throwing
any praise his way that isn't totally deserved."

"God, how I wish we could talk him into working with us on a
full-time basis," he said.

"He only has about three more months of school," I said.  "We'll have
to wait and see what happens then.  As I've told you, I'm not going
to pressure him.  I love him too much to ever try to make him do
anything."

"I'll say it again," he said.  "He's the best thing that's ever
happened to you."

"I know," I said, "and I won't do anything to ever try to change him."

"He's going to get a really fat check for this one," he continued.
"It's hard to put a price on what he's done for us, but I'll try."

"Don't tell me how much," I told him.  "Surprise us both."

We had dinner at Trader Vic's, an old hangout of mine.  We were a
jovial bunch, happy and maybe a little boisterous after having more
than our share of the wonderful rum drinks they made.

                               - - - - -

On the plane ride home, Annie reminded me that Tina would be coming
home in a few days.  Annie had already made most of the arrangements,
but wanted to be sure that I was home when they arrived from Palm
Springs.

Even though he was enthusiastic about the addition to our "family",
Eric wanted to be on the sidelines when Tina arrived.  He felt it
important that I get to know her without him in the middle of
things.  We had argued about this, but he insisted that it would be
temporary, and that this was an important time for Tina and me.  It
wouldn't take long, he assured me, maybe only a few days.  He'd be
there, but wouldn't monopolize my attention.

When Annie brought Tina home, I was waiting.  They unpacked and
settled Tina into a bedroom next to Annie's.

"Finding your way around? I asked when they emerged.

"It's almost like this is the first time I've been here," Tina said.
"I was really little the last time I spent any time here.  That was a
long time ago."

"Just Make yourself at home," I told her.  "This is your home now,
too.  Have you met Mary yet?  She runs the place."

"Annie introduced us," she said.  "She seems real nice.  Where's
Eric?"

"In his study, working on his homework," I said.  "He'll surface
later."

She sat down on the sofa next to me.  "There are a few favors I need
to ask, Dad," she said.

"Anything I can do," I told her.

"I don't know how familiar you are with NA and AA," she said.
"That's the recovery program I'm in, and I'll need to go to a lot of
meetings."

"That's no problem," I told her.  "Where are they?"

"The Clinic gave me a list, but I don't know my way around this town
at all," she said.

"We've got a garage full of cars that you can use anytime," I said,
"but until you're comfortable by yourself, one of us can take you."

"That'd be great, but I don't want to be a bother," she said.

"Absolutely no bother!" I said.  "We're your family and we're here to
help in any way we can."

"If it's OK, I'll get a city map and learn my way around while you
guys are at work," she said.  "I'll get lost, but Annie gave me a
cell phone, and with a map, I should be able to find my way home."

"Take one of my cars," I suggested, "they're the first two on the
left, and the keys are always in them."

She agreed, then went on to tell me about the programs of Alcoholics
Anonymous and Narcotics Anonymous.  They are virtually the same, one
dealing with alcohol addiction and the other with drug addiction.
These groups held "meetings" to discuss their common problems and
solutions.

Tina had attended many of these meetings at the clinic, and wanted to
continue with the program.  Even though her addiction was to drugs,
she said that she was welcome at AA meetings too, and preferred
them.  Addiction was addiction, she said, and in her opinion, the
Alcoholics had a stronger program.  Actually, NA was copied from it,
almost verbatim.

She also suggested that once she had found the meetings, and if I was
interested, I could go to one with her and learn what it was all
about.  I readily agreed.

In a matter of days, Tina was fully assimilated into our household.
I spent a lot of time talking with her, as did Eric and Annie.  She
was quick to learn her way around, and attended meetings every day,
and would often excuse herself in the evening to attend another.

                               - - - - -

The media had paid little attention to the Milton buyout, only a
paragraph hidden in the Wall Street Journal and the same in the local
paper.  I guess only the mega deals get much press coverage, but this
was fine with us.

A couple of Sundays later, Eric held up the Business Section of the
local paper.  "Somebody's talking," he said, handing me the paper,
pointing to an article written by a nationally syndicated Business
guru.

I read.  The writer had obviously done his research, and had had a
little inside help.  The article was an in-depth look at Metalco, and
the recent moves we'd made.  It was totally flattering to both
Metalco and me.

Virtually all of the information was public, but buried, and had
required a lot of digging.  Then one surprising paragraph had stated,
in effect, that our "unorthodox acquisition methods were the
brainchild of Eric Lundborg, Dave Rush's closest advisor."  It went
on to congratulate Eric and warn Wall Street Lawyers and Investment
Bankers that this could be the wave of the future.

"Somebody talked," he said when I'd finished reading.

"Obviously," I said. "But that's the only 'inside' tidbit.
Everything else is available if you know where to look for it."

In spite of his serious demeanor, I could tell he was pleased.

"Come over here," I said, and gave him a big hug.  "Do you know that
there are ten thousand CEO's out there who would love to get a pat on
the back like that? Particularly one coming from that guy."

"Aren't you worried about the leak?" he asked.

"Not really," I told him.  "If it had been some sensitive
information, I'd be upset, but hell, this is wonderful publicity for
you!"

"It is kinda nice," he giggled, grinning from ear to ear.

"You'll be known from coast to coast," I said.  "The Bankers and
Lawyers will hate you, and businessmen will love you.  Enjoy it,
you're famous!"

"I guess I've hit the 'Big Time', just like you," he said.

"Only, you did it all by yourself," I said.  "I inherited it."

                               - - - - -

Monday, the article was the main topic of conversation around the
office.

I told Bill that if he'd leaked the part about Eric, it'd backfire on
him.  Everybody would be after Eric, and we wouldn't have a chance of
getting him.

I was right.  On my way out that evening, Nancy handed me a pile of
phone messages for Eric.  I put them in an evelope and took them home.

Before I could give them to him, Eric, bubbling with excitement, had
to tell me about his day at school.

His professors had congratulated him, in class, in front of his
fellow students.  He had been pulled out of one class by the Dean,
who suggested that they should be giving him an Honorary Degree in
addition to the one he was earning, and strongly hinted that it would
be nice if he mentioned the College, by name, whenever he could.

I waited until he had calmed down, then handed him the envelope.
"Here's some more," I said.

"Oh my God!" he said as he ruffled through them.  "These people want
to talk to ME? This is too much!"

He started reading off names, some I recognized, some I didn't.  The
ones I did were REALLY big names, the movers and shakers of American
industry.  Very impressive!

"What should I do?" he asked, really excited now.

"Maybe find out what they want," I ventured.

"Not a bad idea, smartass," he said, grinning and sliding over to put
his arm around me.  "Without you, none of this could've ever
happened."

"Yeah, and whoever leaked," I said.

"Seriously," he said, "I make a few suggestions to you, you use them,
and here I am, the big 'know-it-all'."

"Yes," I said.  "We paid attention to what you said.  It was obvious,
but we couldn't see it.  You cut to the core of the problems and came
up with the simple solutions.  It saved us a bundle of money, too.
You have that ability to see what none of the rest of us do.  I hope
you never lose it."

"I hope I don't either," he said.  "Maybe I've found a career!  But,
only after I finish school."

"It's worth looking into," I offered.

He pondered a few moments, then continued.  "There's only one way
I'll follow up on this, and that's if I'm positive it won't change
anything between you and me."

"Just don't help out my competition," I said, laughing.  "That's all
I ask.  This is a wonderful opportunity.  I'd certainly investigate
it."

"I will," he said, "but only with your blessing."

"You have it," I said.  "Now, get on the damned phone!"

"Tomorrow," he said.  "Tonight is ours."

The next day between classes and after school, Eric returned calls.

When he told me about them that evening, he was serious, but, I could
tell, delighted.

"There were a few who thought I 'had my head up my ass', as they put
it, things just didn't happen like that," he told me.  "Then there
were those who thought my idea of cutting out all the middlemen was
brilliant.

"The ones who support my idea all want to talk to me.  According to
them, they could use my talents."

"That's what Bill and I have been telling you," I said.  "Now do you
believe us?"

"I'm not taking myself seriously," he said, "regardless of what you
guys say."

"Did they make any offers?" I asked.

"Nothing specific," he said, "but the ones who weren't local offered
to send their planes, or first-class plane tickets."

"But," he continued, "I told them all that I'm still in school, and
everything had to wait until I graduated.  Most were agreeable with
that."

"One other thing," I said.  "Leave two weeks in August open."

"Whatcha got planned?" he grinned, sliding closer.

"How about a cruise of the Aegean in a private yacht?" I asked.

"Just the two of us?" he asked.

"Sure," I said, "or we could take along a few kindred souls.  We'll
need a history professor to tell us what we're looking at."

"Know a queer one?" he asked, chuckling.

"Shouldn't be too hard to find," I said.  "I think most of them are."

"Great idea! I'd love to go," he said.

"You've got school and a career to worry about right now," I said.
"Don't let this distract you.  I just wanted to let you know about it
before you committed yourself."

"I'm committed already," he said. "To you."

To be continued.

Author's Note:  I really appreciate the suggestions I've been
receiving from you guys.  I'm using most of the ones I receive.
I answer all mail, and love to hear from you, and don't mind getting
bashed when I make a mistake.  orrinrush@yahoo.com

If you would like to be alerted when new chapters are posted, please
let me know.