Page 8 of Negotiation Tactics
“Yes, but I want to know how stuff works. Maybe there is something that can be optimized…”
The lounge is probably my favorite room, the open space and the simple shapes and light colors making it airy and bright. I usually have it just to myself, but since my parents are visiting, they are staying over at my house so dad can give me extra guidance even when I’m not onthe clock. I… don’t mind it actually, as their company is welcome at dinner if overbearing at other times. It makes the food taste better, as silly as that might be, and the house feels cozier too, even if I want to strangle them now and then.
Maybe I should get a dog to keep me company.Or hunt down a certain green-eyed brat?
Ugh, no!
Dad nods belatedly, but I can see he’s not convinced. I hate when he does that, because I am already afraid I might disappoint him. He’s a man with very high standards, he’s achieved a lot in his life, and I always worry I might not ever be good enough or that I might do something the wrong way.
“Just remember not to give in to the Union, son, or they’ll suck my baby dry.”
Would they though, I find myself wondering. I don’t really have a basis to think otherwise, so I don’t challenge my father, but surely it is not in our employees’ interest for our company to go bust. Not that it would, I will make sure of it.
“I’ve got this,” I assure him even if I’m not fully convinced, but well, I don’t have to agree to anything concrete today, just meet the representative and see what they want.
I fumble around in the kitchen, looking for something to eat. There are no takeout containers in my fridge, as is usually the case, and instead, my mom’s homemade spinach-ham quiche is beckoning me. I don’t resist it even if it’s a strange choice for breakfast, digging in with an appetite I didn’t realize I had.
As I chew, I consider hiring a chef to make me food at home, but dismiss this quickly as it would inconvenienceme more than it’s worth as I’d have to actually get home at reasonable times. Back to take out it is, once my folks leave.
Done eating, I head out. My mother sashays out of the lounge and props a hip against the wall, watching me put on my shoes. She’s wearing the pink silk robe she takes with her everywhere, the color a perfect match for her lipstick.
“Lewis is playing golf with Santiago in the afternoon. Are you sure you don’t want to join them?” she asks, her tone betraying how much she’d like that. “Like your dad said, you have a commission in place for a reason. There’s no need to involve yourself with the Union directly.”
“I won’t make a decision without consulting them, I promise.” I couldn’t even if I wanted to, at least until I’m officially the CEO. “I just want to meet the rep and hear them out. C’mon, they can’t be that bad.”
She hums and taps a manicured finger along her chin. “I suppose. But their interests and ours tend to be different, so they can get a bit difficult. Keep that in mind. The interests of a business don’t always align with those of its employees.”
I am not naïve, I know that. But I also firmly believe that there exists a balance we can strike so everyone is happy. I’ve just not convinced my dad of that yet.
“Okay. I’ll see you later.”
With a smile, she wishes me good luck and saunters back into the room. I feel invigorated, if still a little nervous, as I grab my ‘disguise’ which comprises a hat and sunglasses that somehow magically work despite their simplicity and the Lamborghini I drive. Then, twenty minutes later, I arrive at the office.
Devon Holidays was originally founded here in Portland, which is why the main headquarters haven’t moved even if my parents no longer live on the west coast. They transferred the house we used to live in to me, so now it belongs to me. A big part of it I have already redesigned, though there are a couple of outstanding things that I didn’t manage to do before I had to leave to do my MBA in London. One is to add a pool, another to expand the garage, and finally to redo the garden. I’d love to jump right into those things, but because of my new role and the approaching appointment as the new CEO, work occupies all of my time, so I haven’t called Natalie’s architecture and interior company yet.
“Hi, Mr. Devon. Glad you made it almost on time,” Brady, my best friend and my soon-to-be COO says as he barges into my glassed-off office. Our building employs an open-plan layout, though the CEO’s and Department Heads’ offices offer a degree of privacy.
I snort, waving him off. “I was in a meeting with financials all morning after sleeping only two hours. Cut me some slack.”
“Uh-oh, someone sure is grumpy today. Upset stomach?” When I shake my head, he grins impishly. “Erotic dreams about a certain very unforgettable hookup kept you up then, gotcha.”
I growl in response. I should’ve never told him about that, but it sort of just slipped out.
Brady places his hand against his heart. “It’s okay. I can always sit in on the Union meeting.”
I glare at my best friend, ready with a snappy comeback when my phone pings with a message. It’s from Savannah. I decide to ignore it, feeling an ick in my stomach.
We met at a bar in London, toward the end of my MBA, and while we fooled around a couple of times, that’s as far as things went. We enjoyed our time together, no strings attached, and parted ways. Except she went back on her word once she found out I was loaded. The calls and texts have been non-stop since then, and frankly, I’m getting very tired of it.
Which is exactly why you need to let Pretty Eyes go and move on. It’s a done deal. In the past.
I take a deep breath and dismiss Savannah’s message notification. She’s not worth it when I have an important meeting in less than twenty minutes. I need my wits about me, and I intend to use these last few minutes to go through what I know about my enemy.And no gem-like eyes are gonna distract me from it.
Amy Lee Anderson has been the head of the Oregon Workers First Union for fifteen years. I’m sure she knows what she’s doing. But while she sounds intimidating, I’m convinced she’s not a bad person. We’ll sit down and have a civilized discussion, then resolve this issue before it becomes any bigger.
Easy.
I glance from Brady to the window. From my office, you can just about spy Hayden Island, the water around it gleaming under the spring sun. I could really go for a walk.
