“We’re very interested in getting the new contract pushed through,” Stewart said, adroitly spearing an odd-looking vegetable from his plate.
“Then we’re both after the same goal,” Jared responded calmly.
Stewart smiled. “I certainly hope so. The only snags we haven’t been able to work through in preliminary talks involve the number of sick days and the exact percentage of pay raises over the term of the contract.”
“Yes,” Jared said, his face pleasant, but not reflecting much. “So my people tell me.”
Kelsey quietly chewed a bite, intrigued to see Jared in action. He’d be a hell of a poker player, that much was evident. But what fascinated her was the difference in his eyes. Jared’s eyes were normally as rich and warm as dark chocolate. A woman could drown in his eyes.
Tonight, there was nothing seductive in his glance. He smiled as affably as did Stewart, but Jared’s eyes were cool and shrewd. He gave the appearance of a gamesman, waiting for his opponent to slip. It occurred to Kelsey that she wouldn’t want him to set that mind against her.
She’d always known he had shark tendencies, but she’d never really seen him as predatory. Even when he’d arranged to get the ad space they needed to launch the new hotel early.
“We think our request of five more sick days annually is in line with—“
“Forget it,” Jared said suddenly, leaning back in his chair. “I have half a dozen five-star hotels and several lesser ones. My sick day policies are company-wide and are already twice as generous as most. If you want concessions, pick another area of the contract.”
Stewart look down at his plate, seeming surprised by Jared’s unequivocal position. “So you’re saying that the sick days are a contract breaker?”
“Only if you insist on it,” Jared said pleasantly enough, his eyes still cool. “I’m prepared to work with you on your people’s specific needs, but I’m not altering something that would spread to the entire company.”
“Of course, we aren’t concerned with all your employees,” Stewart pointed out.
“No, but I am.” Jared leaned forward. “Let’s concentrate our energies on something we can agree about. The pay increases and dismissal policies.”
“Dismissal policies?” Stewart repeated. “I wasn’t aware of a problem in that area.”
“I want the right to fire people who don’t do their job without going through a lot of union hassle,” Jared said, meeting the other man’s gaze. “I understand your union is concerned that the members are treated fairly. That’s my plan, too. But I won’t have my hands tied. Employees who don’t do their jobs don’t have a right to stay employed just because they pay their union dues.”
“The purpose of our organization,” Stewart protested, “is to require that management behave responsibly with our members. We can’t give you carte blanche to fire whomever you want.”
Kelsey listened as the conversation went back and forth, neither man giving much. The situation obviously wouldn’t be solved tonight.
Eventually, Stewart Black dropped his napkin in his plate, looking a little peevish. “I’m going to have to talk with some of our people about this, Mr. Barrett. Your position on this issue wasn’t clear before.”
“Certainly,” Jared pushed back his chair, “get back to me and let’s talk some more.”
He stood and went to pull back Kelsey’s chair.
“It was very nice meeting you, Ms. Layton,” Stewart said, no smile in his eyes. “Good evening.”
“Whew.” She gathered up her evening purse as the other man walked away. “Do you do this all the time?”
“Do what?” Jared lightly clasped her upper arm to steer her through the tables.
“Sword play over dinner.”
He laughed, escorting her toward the door.
Kelsey glanced back. “Don’t we have to take care of the check?”
“No.” Jared held the heavy wood door open for her. “It’s taken care of.”
“Mmmm. It’s nice to be rich,” she said, her voice teasing.
Jared smiled, taking her hand in his as they walked to the waiting limousine. “Money brings perks.”
“I’ll bet.”
Just then his breast pocket chirped.
Pausing on the sidewalk, Jared pulled out a tiny cell phone.
“Yes?”
Kelsey stood beside him, unsure if she should go or stay. Jared made up her mind when he reached out and snagged her hand.
“Listen, Clay, I don’t give a damn about the dismissal policy,” Jared said into the phone, his tone curt. “The money is the issue.”