Free Business as Usual by E. Hughes

physical relationship if I didn’t agree to a real marriage. I
wanted to see how long that was going to last. He parked his hands on my
waist and pushed me away, eyes brimming with sexual heat. But I slid my fingers
under his collar, slowly unbuttoned his shirt, and kissed him on the neck. He
froze, breath catching in his throat.
    “We’ll go over the details on our so called
honeymoon. When are we leaving?” I purred.
    “In two weeks,” he answered, fastening each
button again. I watched as he slid fit arms into his jacket, my eyes drawn to
the muscular swell of his chest. He started toward the door then turned back on
his heels like he was forgetting something, and kissed me. It was only a peck
on the lips, but a kiss nonetheless.
     
    Judging
from the determined look in Ethan’s eyes, I had a feeling he wasn’t about to
take no for answer on the meeting. So as soon as he left, I called my secretary
and told her to cancel the meeting at the hotel and to book a conference room
at the Concord Business Center. Ethan was more concerned with his designs than
staying on budget. My job as head of finance was to keep costs under control.
But after reading Ethan’s outline, and going over his blueprint for a six story
150,000 square feet building, there was no way we could build it without
spending an obscene amount of money. I was going to budget the new Gold Dust
Hotel down to the last nail, starting with its size, which I would slash from
150,000 square feet to 135,000 to get our budget down to 20 million dollars,
where it belonged.
     
    With
the blueprint unfurled and spread across the boardroom table two and half hours
later, I made a box around the area we would cut from the design with a big red
Sharpie. I passed the marker to Hirsch, a bald forty-four year old finance
executive from our Atlantic City office. As I leaned over the table I couldn’t
tell if he was cross-eyed or staring down my silk Chanel blouse. I flattened
the fabric with my hands, smoothing wrinkles away from the soft crisscross designed
top as I strutted across the room, sat on the edge of the table, crossing my
legs, listening as the team debated budget concerns over coffee and bagels.
     
    Reports
were passed to the end of the large Maplewood table where I collected them. Diane,
a bright but serious young woman in her late twenties had ascended the ranks of
the company quickly, her strict hard-working attitude making her a contender
for upper management. Her style of dress was as austere as her personality,
which made her well liked by everyone except her immediate peers. She spoke,
but only when she needed to, so I was surprised when she gave me her report,
and said,
    “I found a company in South America that could
provide lumber for half the price listed on AmeriAsia’s budget proposal.”
    “Is that in your report?”
    “On page five,” Diane answered. “I made a few
other suggestions as well.”
    “I’ll be sure to review and get back to you
after I go over your assessment with Ethan. AmeriAsia’s cost submittal does seem
a bit over-inflated,” I answered.
    “We could cut costs by several million if we
hire non-union construction workers,” Hirsch offered.
    “That’s a great idea. Of course, we’re
obligated for a number of reasons to hire union workers. But we’ll hire non-union
whenever we can as often as we can to cut back on costs. As it stands, the
current budget is so out of control, if we don’t scale back the project will go
bankrupt before we break ground. I’d much prefer to spend the bulk of our
funding on the hotel interior, where guests spend most of their time anyway. I
have a contractor bidding at half the cost that AmeriAsia and Byron Industries
is willing to pay. But again, I’ll need to run this by Ethan since he’s
overseeing the project.”
     
    Gary,
an attorney who had come from my father’s office uninvited the second he heard
about the meeting, leaned across the table trying not to wrinkle his