“Actually, I came out to see if the deer had left any of the summer buds. We have a terrible time with them out here. They eat everything. My wife’s coming down next week and she loves the flowers. Let’s go inside.”
He led Reed into the house and back to a spacious den. “Can I get you anything to drink?”
“No, thanks. I had dinner before coming over.”
“We’re alone here. Only one of the staff back in the kitchen. Bozin is in Atlanta for the weekend, I’m told.”
“I appreciate you comin’ down.”
“Negotiations start Monday and I’ve been wondering when we’d talk. It’s one of our rituals I so look forward to every few years. Luckily the company plane was available when you called.”
“I should have called sooner, but I’ve been fairly busy getting ready and haven’t had time till now.”
Lee doubted that observation. More likely Reed waited to the last minute intentionally, thinking his aloofness could be used as a bargaining chip. Particularly after he read the planted memos.
They both sat.
“I assume you’re going to want five years again?” Reed asked.
They never small-talked or beat around the bush. Probably because they really weren’t friends. More necessary acquaintances. But he decided to keep up the pretense a little while longer. “That’s right. Just like last time. We need those extra two years to keep things stable.”
“I was afraid of that. So what are you willing to give to get ’em?” Reed wanted to know.
Set the hook. “The more critical question is, can you deliver five years?”
“I’ve talked to the other two union presidents. I can get ’em to give you five, but it’ll cost.”
“And what if we’re not interested in paying those costs for five years?”
“Maybe I can get you interested.”
He shook his head. “You amaze me, Hank. Last time it was like pulling teeth to get those additional two years on the contract. I had to pay extra on wages and help build that union hall of yours. Now you’re saying you’ll get them for me?”
“You know I can’t take my people and walk. A strike would serve no purpose. You’d love those couple of years, you just don’t want to pay through the nose for ’em. I can get ’em… cheap.”
The plan was working. Not only had Reed found the memo, he’d believed every single word. But he decided to stall a bit more. “Why didn’t you negotiate this with Chris Bozin? He’s the one down here this time.”
Reed shrugged. “I prefer to deal with you.”
He paused and started to reel him in. “So what will those extra two years cost, assuming for the moment I’m even interested?”
“No takebacks on anything we have. Some adjustment on the medical deductible, particularly for retirees. And at least a modest assurance on overtime.”
“What do you mean by modest?”
“Enough that I can tell the membership we won the point. If you want it to fade into oblivion a year from now, you won’t get any flak from me.”
All the internal memos he’d read lately warned against guaranteeing any overtime hours. So he liked that concession. “I think that would work. Now to the meat of the coconut. What about wage increases?”
“Four percent spread over five years.”
“Two percent and you guarantee the other unions will join.”
“Three percent up front and I’ll deliver the other two unions.”
“Deal.” But he wanted to know, “How are you going to explain a five-year contract to the other unions? None of them were wild about that last time.”
“I won’t have to,” Reed said. “As soon as you see our first offer your people are going to automatically revise their offer down to three. Probably claim too much expense, the unions have asked for too much, anything just to blame us. When that happens we’ll be out of gas. Everybody knows there’s not going to be a strike. What’ll we have to bargain with? Those added two years are our only negotiating tool and they know it.”