“Oh, that’s festive,” Kerry had teased.
Dar chuckled wryly. “Calculated plan of attack. I’ll wear it at the meeting tomorrow, under my jacket.” Her eyes twinkled wickedly. “Good psychology.
This Disney crowd’s an odd lot. They’re businessmen, but there’s still a strong element in there of the old, family-centered franchise. They’re very loyal to the brand name, and they like to see some enthusiasm for their product.”
“Hmm, interesting.” Kerry considered that as they’d walked out. “What Tropical Storm 177
do they consider their product to be?”
Dar had looked at her. “If you had asked Walt Disney, dreams.”
NOW, SHE SETTLED back in her seat and stretched out her legs, resting them on the bench facing them. They were almost alone in the car, and the train had several stops to make before it went the entire circuit and ended back up at the Floridian. They passed through the Contemporary, a huge block canyon of a place, and the Hawaiian-style Polynesian, before they slowed to a stop at the stately white Grand Floridian. “This is our stop.” Dar stood and stretched, then ducked out the door and entered the lobby.
People were still milling around, mostly near the bars, and the elevators were fairly crowded as they made their way up to their rooms. Dar slipped her door open and ambled over to the dresser, depositing her bag of goodies before she turned and noticed the message light blinking on the phone. “What the hell is that?” She pulled her cell phone from her belt and checked it. “No, I thought this was on. Who in the hell would leave me a message here?”
She shook her head as she sat down and started pulling at her sneakers with one hand while lifting the receiver with the other and dialing the operator for the message. “Yes, this is Dar Roberts, I have a message?” She wrote down the name and number on a scratch pad left by the phone and thanked the operator, then hung up. “Well, John…” She picked up the receiver and dialed again, listening as it rang. It was picked up on the fourth ring. “Hello, John, you said to call when I got the message, so…”
“Oh. Oh, Dar. Yes. Thanks.” The man’s voice sounded harried. “I was just putting the last bit of a new proposal together. Listen, I’m glad you’re here.”
That’s new. “What’s up?”
“They’ve asked us to come in with a bid tomorrow, but they’re bringing us and the team from IBM in at the same time. Kind of like a face-off.”
“Oh, really.” Dar pulled off her other sneaker and rubbed her toes.
“That’s different. They expected us to arm-wrestle it out or something?”
“I don’t know,” John answered with a sigh. “But I’ve been getting my tail kicked by their team leader. I understand you know him?”
“Oh yeah.” Dar chuckled. “You could say that. He certainly won’t be glad to see me, let’s just put it that way.” She unbuttoned her vest and stood up.
“Listen, mail the proposal over to me, and I’ll take a look at it. What time’s the meeting tomorrow?”
“It’s at ten, at the admin center,” he answered with audible relief.
“Michelle Graver’s in charge of their negotiating group. Dar, she’s vicious.”
He cleared his throat. “In today’s session, she brought up every major failure we’ve had in the last ten years. Not sure where she got the info from.”
“Probably from Jerry Andrews,” Dar replied as she pulled off the vest, and then unzipped her briefcase. “So it’s that kind of dirty pool, eh? All right.
I’ll give the office a call and see what reciprocal dirt I can dig up. They’ll be loaded for bear tomorrow.” She paused. “Do they know I’m here?”
“Not that I know of. Unless they track our corporate bookings in their central res system,” John replied, sounding a good deal more cheerful.
“Damn, I’m glad you’re here, Dar. Tomorrow it’ll be like walking in with an 178 Melissa Good Uzi under my arm.”
Dar snorted. “Thanks.” She plugged in the laptop and connected the modem cord to the spare jack on the side of the phone. “Actually, make sure there’s room for two more. I have my new assistant with me as an observer.”
“Oh? Great!” John replied. “Even better, we’ll outnumber them, then.”
He hesitated. “And it’ll make a better mix on the team. I’ve only got guys on this one, I think that’s annoying Michelle.”
“What about them?”
“Are you kidding? At this level bid? All guys, all blue suits, all white shirts, black ties, black shoes, and IBM tie tacks.” The account rep chuckled.
“At least we’re wearing different colored underwear.”
“Should be fun.” Dar sighed. “Send it over. I’ll be dialed in.” She waited for him to hang up, then replaced the receiver and instructed her laptop to complete a connection.
“Problems?” a soft voice asked, and she looked up to see Kerry in the adjoining doorway, dressed in an overlong T-shirt with a large, obnoxious Tweety Bird on it and not much else. “I heard that start to connect.” She pointed at the laptop.
Dar got over her gut-level response at seeing her assistant in her underwear and shrugged. “Could be. Apparently the IBM team is playing dirty pool. Not that we wouldn’t if we could, of course, but they’ve given the people here some inside info about us, and John’s having a rough time of it.”
She glanced at the screen, and then waved Kerry inside the room. “Sit down, he’s sending me over his new bid to look at.”
Kerry willingly did so, curling up on her side on the bed and handing Dar a piece of the fudge she’d been nibbling on. “What kind of inside info?”
Dar checked the download indicator. “Damn, I must have a meg of mail.
We’ve only been gone for seven hours, what’s going on down there?” She ate the fudge, then licked her fingers. “Mmm, that’s pretty good.”
“I don’t know, I left my laptop picking up. I had a bunch too,” Kerry advised her, as she handed over another piece.
“Hey, that’s yours,” Dar protested, but took the fudge anyway. “The inside info was screw-ups of ours—times when we promised something we couldn’t deliver, or had to void out of a contract due to non-performance, that kind of thing.” She started a terminal session and typed in a request. “C’mon, c’mon. Goddamn analog piece of shit lines.”
Kerry muffled a grin. Dar had taken off her sneakers and vest and tugged her shirt out, and it was appealingly rumpled-looking. “What are you going to do?”
“Get some dirt on them,” Dar replied absently, sending a bot out searching the huge database Programming had custom written for them. “Fire with fire, and all that.”
Golden lashes fluttered. “Why not just put in the best bid?” she inquired.
“Or is that an incredibly naïve question?”
Dar’s blue eyes lifted and twinkled. “Well, not naïve, just a little too, um…optimistic.” She placed the laptop on the bed and stood, stripping out of her shirt and reaching for her bag. “In an ideal world, we’d all be judged on our merits. This isn’t an ideal world.” She glanced at Kerry, who was Tropical Storm 179
studiously looking elsewhere, and managed a wry grin.