The Best Laid Plans - Sidney Sheldon

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shifts that pay overtime. Some of them put in three shifts back to back, working the whole weekend. I believe they call it “going to the whips.” We can’t afford that anymore. We’re losing money because our equipment is outdated. If we could put in new cold-type production –’

      ‘Absolutely not! The new equipment you want to put in would put my men out of work, and I have no intention of letting machinery throw my men out into the street. Your goddam machines don’t have to eat, my men do.’ Riley rose to his feet. ‘Our contract is up next week. We either get what we want, or we walk.’

      When Leslie mentioned the meeting to Henry that evening, he said, ‘Why do you want to get involved in all that? The unions are something we all have to live with. Let me give you a piece of advice, sweetheart. You’re new to all this, and you’re a woman. Let the men handle it. Let’s not –’ He stopped, out of breath.

      ‘Are you all right?’

      He nodded. ‘I saw my stupid doctor today, and he thinks I should get an oxygen tank.’

      ‘I’ll arrange it,’ Leslie said. ‘And I’m going to get you a nurse so that when I’m not here –’

      ‘No! I don’t need a nurse. I’m – I’m just a little tired.’

      ‘Come on, Henry. Let’s get you into bed.’

      Three days later, when Leslie called an emergency board meeting, Henry said, ‘You go, baby. I’ll just stay here and take it easy.’ The oxygen tank had helped, but he was feeling weak and depressed.

      Leslie telephoned Henry’s doctor. ‘He’s losing too much weight and he’s in pain. There must be something you can do.’

      ‘Mrs Chambers, we’re doing everything we can. Just see that he gets plenty of rest and stays on the medication.’

      Leslie sat there, watching Henry lying in bed, coughing.

      ‘Sorry about the meeting,’ Henry said. ‘You handle the board. There’s nothing anyone can do, anyway.’

      She only smiled.

       Chapter Five

      The members of the board were gathered around the table in the conference room, sipping coffee and helping themselves to bagels and cream cheese, waiting for Leslie.

      When she arrived, she said, ‘Sorry to keep you waiting, ladies and gentlemen. Henry sends his regards.’

      Things had changed since the first board meeting Leslie had attended. The board had snubbed her then, and treated her as an interloper. But gradually, as Leslie had learned enough about the business to make valuable suggestions, she had won their respect. Now, as the meeting was about to begin, Leslie turned to Amy, who was serving coffee. ‘Amy, I would like you to stay for the meeting.’

      Amy looked at her in surprise. ‘I’m afraid my shorthand isn’t very good, Mrs Chambers. Cynthia can do a better job of –’

      ‘I don’t want you to take minutes of the meeting. Just make a note of whatever resolutions we pass at the end.’

      ‘Yes, ma’am.’ Amy picked up a notebook and pen and sat in a chair against the wall.

      Leslie turned to face the board. ‘We have a problem. Our contract with the pressmen’s union is almost up. We’ve been negotiating for three months now, and we haven’t been able to reach an agreement. We have to make a decision, and we have to make it fast. You’ve all seen the reports I sent you. I’d like to have your opinions.’

      She looked at Gene Osborne, a partner in a local law firm.

      ‘If you ask me, Leslie, I think they’re getting too damn much already. Give them what they want now, and tomorrow they’ll want more.’

      Leslie nodded and looked at Aaron Drexel, the owner of a local department store. ‘Aaron?’

      ‘I have to agree. There’s a hell of a lot of featherbedding going on. If we give them something, we should get something in return. In my opinion, we can afford a strike, and they can’t.’

      The comments from the others were similar.

      Leslie said, ‘I have to disagree with all of you.’ They looked at her in surprise. ‘I think we should let them have what they want.’

      ‘That’s crazy.’

      ‘They’ll wind up owning the newspaper.’

      ‘There won’t be any stopping them.’

      ‘You can’t give in to them.’

      Leslie let them speak. When they had finished, she said, ‘Joe Riley is a fair man. He believes in what he’s asking for.’

      Seated against the wall, Amy was following the discussion, astonished.

      One of the women spoke up. ‘I’m surprised you’re taking his side, Leslie.’

      ‘I’m not taking anyone’s side. I just think we have to be reasonable about this. Anyway, it’s not my decision. Let’s take a vote.’ She turned to look at Amy. ‘This is what I want you to put in the record.’

      ‘Yes, ma’am.’

      Leslie turned back to the group. ‘All those opposed to the union demands, raise your hands.’ Eleven hands went into the air. ‘Let the record show that I voted yes and that the rest of the committee has voted not to accept the union demands.’

      Amy was writing in her notebook, a thoughtful expression on her face.

      Leslie said, ‘Well, that’s it then.’ She rose. ‘If there’s no further business …’

      The others got to their feet.

      ‘Thank you all for coming.’ She watched them leave, then turned to Amy. ‘Would you type that up, please?’

      ‘Right away, Mrs Chambers.’

      Leslie headed for her office.

      The telephone call came a short time later.

      ‘Mr Riley is on line one,’ Amy said.

      Leslie picked up the telephone. ‘Hello.’

      ‘Joe Riley. I just wanted to thank you for what you tried to do.’

      Leslie said, ‘I don’t understand …’

      ‘The board meeting. I heard what happened.’

      Leslie said, ‘I’m surprised, Mr Riley. That was a private meeting.’

      Joe Riley chuckled. ‘Let’s just say I have friends in low places. Anyway, I thought what you tried to do was great. Too bad it didn’t work.’

      There was a brief silence, then Leslie said slowly, ‘Mr Riley … what if I could make it work?’

      ‘What do you mean?’

      ‘I have an idea. I’d rather not discuss it on the phone. Could we meet somewhere … discreetly?’

      There was a pause. ‘Sure. Where did you have in mind?’

      ‘Someplace where neither of us will be recognized.’

      ‘What about meeting at the Golden Cup?’

      ‘Right. I’ll be there in an hour.’

      ‘I’ll see you.’

      The Golden Cup was an infamous café in the seedier section of Phoenix, near the railroad tracks, an area police warned tourists to stay away from. Joe Riley was seated at a corner booth when Leslie walked in. He rose as she approached him.

      ‘Thank you for being here,’ Leslie said. They sat down.

      ‘I

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