VELOCITY - DEE JACOB [158]
“What happened in New York?” Linda asked.
“Sorry, I can’t say anything for a few more hours, not until the official press release with the announcement goes out,” Amy told her.
Worry instantly clouded Linda’s young face.
“Is it bad news?” Linda asked. “Can you just tell me that?”
Amy stood up and wrapped her arms around her assistant, embracing her.
Then with a huge smile, Amy said, “Linda, the news this time is outstandingly, fantastically good.”
Nearly everyone on the Hi-T leadership team – the “V Team,” as Amy was calling it – remained with the company. The one exception was Kurt Konani, who accepted an offer from Winner to help turn around one of its worst operating units. It was a good opportunity for Kurt, and everyone wished the best to the Hawaiian as he departed – with Amy telling him to feel free to call any of them if he needed second opinions on anything. But Kurt moving on enabled Jayro Pepps to move up and become plant manager at Oakton, a well-deserved promotion for him. Aside from those changes, the V Team remained intact, much to Amy’s relief. And she made certain that all of them had opportunities and incentives to share in the long-term success of Hi-T.
“Mr. Tom.”
“Yes, Ms. Amy.”
“Do you realize that both of our first names have three letters?”
“Is that a fact?”
“It is a fact. Amy … Tom … three letters each. And do you know what that means?”
“I have a feeling you’re going to tell me.”
“It means,” Amy said, entwining her arm around his, “that we must be made for each other. You know, like fate. Like destiny.”
Tom raised himself up and regarded her. They were slouched on the sofa at his place. An empty pizza box lay open on the kitchen table. The March Madness college basketball tournament was in progress, and in an hour the Tar Heels would be playing a televised game. Amy, with no particular guile, but fortified by a couple glasses of zinfandel, had decided it was now or never – time to at least plant the seed.
“Where is this going?” Tom asked.
“Well, let’s put it this way: do you realize we’ve been going together now for three years?”
“And what? You’d like to try for four years? Great, so would I.”
“No, Tom, I’d like to try to make it for life!”
“Oh, good Lord.”
“That’s right. I am bringing up the ‘M’ word.”
“Why? How is marriage going to improve what we already have?”
“Let me count the ways. For one thing, we could share a house and a bedroom together.”
“We could do that now, Amy.”
“No, not with me. I have a reputation; I have responsibilities. I am a straight arrow. It has to be legitimate.”
“Amy, come on. We have a great relationship! We love each other, we have fun together–”
“When we are together.”
“That’s as much your fault as mine – if it even is a fault. I mean, yes, I have some kind of whatever it’s called … wanderlust. But what about you? If we were to get married, would you give up traveling on business?”
“Well, I couldn’t.”
“And yet you would expect me to give up things I really enjoy, things that make me happy?”
“Now, wait a minute. I’m not saying, ‘give them up.’ I’m saying–”
“Right. You’re saying, hand in your freedom.”
“I am not!”
“Amy, you are a smart, witty, green-eyed beauty of a woman, who is a workaholic, too responsible, and usually too tired to stay awake past nine thirty. You won’t go or can’t go to even half the places I want to go, or do all the things I want to do. So why don’t we just leave it the way it is, and enjoy each other when we’re together?”
“Because – you want to know the truth? It’s not good enough for me.”
“Oh! Not good enough! Well!”
“Tom, I’ll tell you who you are. You are a funny, handsome, good-hearted man, who has some kind of moth-to-flame addiction to adventure, possibly has a death wish, and is too independent and way too competitive. And you won’t commit. Just what I want in a husband. Actually, why am I even interested in you?”
“Wait a minute. What do you mean I won’t commit? I committed to the Marines! I committed to my first wife – who left me, who