Kane, Andrea by Scent of Danger

Author:Scent of Danger
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 2011-12-21T04:08:38+00:00

9:35 A.M.

Ruisseau Fragrance Corporation

The ten department heads sat rigidly around the conference room table—and around Sabrina.

As she settled herself in her chair, Sabrina assessed the group, looking around the table, one-by-one, and putting names to the faces.

Obviously, she knew Stan and Dylan, who flanked her on either side.

To Stan's left was Nelson Harte, III, chief financial officer—a go-getter, third generation Harvard Business School grad, financial genius. After that came Alfred Rowe, VP of manufacturing—the former president of Distillation Technologies Inc., a company acquired by Carson twelve years ago. Next there was Sandra Cooper, VP of sales—forty years old, the youngest company VP with the exception of Dylan, polished and savvy as they come, which was a sure-fire reason for her meteoric rise.

Directly to Sandra's left was John Baker, VP of information technology—a rare combination of technogenius, creative dynamo, and attention-to-detail fanatic. Next came Steve Hollings, VP of strategic planning—innovative, enterprising, a real roll-up-your-sleeves-and-get-it-done kind of guy. Beside him was Rita Whiting, VP of marketing—the brains behind the C'est Moi marketing campaign, sharp as a tack and exuding the energy of a thirty-year-old, despite being well into her fifties. After Rita, came Claude Phelps, the VP of research & development—hyper and eccentric, the mad scientist type, one of Carson's original staff members. Then, Roland Ferguson, the VP of human resources—who'd left the successful recruiting firm he'd started up to come work for Carson.

Finally, there was Dylan—officially titled VP & general counsel, although he'd never changed the plaque on his door to include that pomp and circumstance—and Sabrina herself, the legal president of Ruisseau Fragrance Corporation as of twenty minutes ago when she'd signed the papers Dylan had prepared, Carson had signed, and Stan had witnessed—first for Carson, then for her. She had the title, the authority—and the anonymity, until she chose otherwise. For the time being, her input would be conveyed via Stan, who'd voice her recommendations and cast her proxy votes. Her official role, as far as Ruisseau's entire staff was concerned, would be that of Carson's newly hired management consultant.

A daunting balancing act, to say the least.

Sabrina finished her perusal, having made all the individual connections, and sipped at her coffee. The tension in the room was palpable. She couldn't help but feel an immense sense of empathy. All the VPs were clearly unglued, fiddling with pens, crossing and uncrossing their legs, and looking generally freaked-out as they waited for Stan to address whatever he'd called them here for. They were exhausted from overwork, unnerved by Carson's shooting, and drained from the police interrogations they'd been through.

And now, their COO had called an unscheduled, mandatory meeting. So on top of everything else, they were edgy as hell, unsure what was coming next, and casting uneasy, curious glances at her—the unknown intruder—trying to figure out who the hell she was and what she was doing here.

Stan didn't keep them guessing for long.

"Good morning, everyone, and thanks for being here on such short notice," he began. "I apologize for the late start.

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