Charmingly Ruthless

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"Good God," said Mansfield, shaking his head. "And now that you've met her face to face?"

"I'm totally convinced she deserves to be short-listed."

"Oh my," Helen giggled. "I'm glad that there are seven other board members. There would be a riot in town if a woman is appointed."

"Come on, let's head off -- I'll need to put you to bed once you get a lungful of fresh air, Helen. You've over-imbibed for your restricted capacity."

"Get fucked Harold."

The two men grinned at each other, determined not to laugh loudly, knowing that would only send Helen off into unrestrained hilarity at their encouraging reaction.

Harold went back to the office to work until 7:30. He phoned Marcia Evans, head of Mayfair Employment Consultancy and told her that in all probability he was going to add a candidate to the short-list without going through the pre-screening process.

"Good God," was Marcia's reaction when told it was a woman. That's all she said but Harold suspected that Marcia would be thinking Harold was screwing the woman. Women thought like that, didn't they?

Giving Marcia Chase's name, Harold said Chase had previously worked on the Morning Star.

"Could you email your findings about her by noon tomorrow as I am lunching with her at the club an hour later. I'd like to do my assessment knowing her background in detail."

"Right, Harold. Will do. Do I add her as a sixth finalist, or knock one off of the short-list of five."

"I'd like her added as the sixth candidate," Harold said. "Helen and Mansfield know about her so I do not wish to be accused of pushing my barrow."

"Oh, I don't think anyone would ever accuse you of that," lied the hard-nosed consultant. But she didn't mind; the woman wouldn't have a chance against her two top picks and the board would probably ignore those anyway and give the job to the deputy editor because that was the tradition. Whatever, she'd be paid her fees

Harold read the email carefully:

'Chase Julia (nee Lewis) Hudson, married to Baxter, a regional manager for the Network Bank of New Zealand. No children.

Chase, an associate editor on the Morning Star where she was highly regarded, recently resigned abruptly and disappeared without even collecting her personal items or payments due including superannuation.

Recipients of many awards in newspaper journalism including Journalist of the Year five years ago and Best Magazine Editor last year for the newspaper's 'Weekender' that she edited for inclusion in the newspaper's Saturday edition.

An excellent administrator, writes and manages with a leading edge. Being groomed for a more senior appointment. Was formerly the Morning Star's political editor. Spent a year working with the Guardian newspaper group in England and six months on the Vancouver Sun before returning to the Morning Star on request to take up the position of news editor.

Interests include golf, theatre, ballet, reading, travel, kayaking and good dining.'

Harold scratched his head, wondering about the definition of 'manages with a leading edge'. Presumably that meant innovatively. It seemed pretty straightforward with only the one real question to be answered: Why did she run away from her husband?

The dining room was well filled and it did not escape Harold's notice many admiring glances were cast in their direction. The club's female membership totalled three and women guests at lunch rarely exceeded three at any one time. During lunch seven members dropped by to say hullo to Harold, eclipsing the two or three who usually performed such genteel contact. Business discussion took place in the smoking room (where smoking was now banned) over expensive whisky or brandy.

Passing the wine list to Chase and inviting her to choose, Harold was impressed rather and irritated that she chose the third priciest red -- McRae's Pinot Noir from Otago; it was his favourite red currently listed.

Later, pushing away the remains of his salmon entrée, Harold said with a smile, "Exactly why did you chose to come to Walton?"

"My best friend's husband caught my husband and his wife in the middle -- at least I think it was the middle -- of an act of adultery, so I upped and left within thirty minutes, ending that chapter of my life."

Harold had to catch himself from making an embarrassed apology for being so heartless in extracting such a personal confession.

"You look to be a survivor," was all he said.

As they both slipped down a sip of McRae's, Harold looked at Chase intently, asking himself, 'Does she look like the type of woman I would trust administering my money?'

The answer came without hesitation: 'Yes, probably after careful checks.'

That readiness to trust surprised Harold, aware that he didn't really know the woman. So quickly he asked himself another question: 'Would I trust her to preserve the noble traditions of the Evening News for the duration of her tenure?'

This time the answer was equally emphatic: 'No!'

"Are you all right, you look as if you've just had a shock?" asked Chase with concern. "Has the fish disagreed with you?"

"No, I'm fine."

Then with uncharacteristic expansiveness, Harold told Chase about the second question he'd put to himself, although not suggesting there had been another question, and what his gut answer had been.

To his astonishment Chase just smiled and almost looked as if about to pat his arm to apply reassurance. "Of course I couldn't be expected to concentrate on preserving tradition at all cost -- that's a quick way in these competitive times for a newspaper to despatch itself into oblivion. You read me well, Harold. I guess that's why you're a warhorse lawyer."

"How on earth could you know that? You've only been in town five minutes."

"I've been talking to Judith Clinton-Jones."

"You know Judith?"

"Yes, I am staying in her guesthouse temporarily."

"Oh, you are family?"

"Oh no, I'd never met her before."

Harold looked nonplussed. "I suppose you know she's deputy chairman of the board of the Evening News?"

He could see that information surprised Chase, who said weakly she'd had no idea of Lady Clinton-Jones' relationship with the newspaper.

"Her family founded it," he said dryly.

Chase's bewilderment told him all he needed to know: she had not a clue about the association.

They ordered mains -- he a steak and Chase vegetarian pasta.

"Obviously Lady Clinton-Jones has taken an immediately liking to you if you are calling her Judith."

"Not that I'm aware -- she simply invited me to call her Judith."

"Which is what I just said."

"Oh."

Again Harold was faced with a moment of not knowing what to think. How could a runaway from her banker husband waltz into town and within five minutes be on first-name basis with the town's only link with aristocracy? Frig -- he really needed Helen to sort this one out; she was fantastic on personal relationships and how people think and fit -- when she was sober!"

"You're smiling, and your good colour has returned."

Harold chose not to mention his thoughts about the split personality of his wife.

Thereafter they chatted generally without any great revelations being exchanged, but Harold was left with the solid impression that this woman was all class and yet had an innate sense of fun about her. Little wonder his buddy Mayor Alum had whispered to him factiously, "You'll be into her pants within the next two week." Both men knew that Harold was as straight at they come, that with him infidelity was an anathema.

"You're looking at me rather deeply, as if you wished I were your daughter," commented Chase, less than restrained after two cocktails and a third of the bottle of pinot noir.

Harold, father of three adult sons, had been thinking that very thing. He excused himself and went off to the men's room thinking how on earth she could be thinking that when the same thought was in his mind. This woman was awesome.

Outside the club they shook hands and went their separate ways, with Harold promising his PA would be in touch with Chase.

Harold sat at his desk, but with his chair spun around so that he could look out the window and reflect -- his favourite thinking position. His elderly and super efficient PA entered the room to ask if he wanted coffee. When Marie returned with coffee Harold asked her: "What do you really think of the Evening News?"

"You want me to reply honestly?"

Harold continued staring out of the window without replying, indicating the answer was yes.

"Well I think it's lost its old drive and becoming boring and I really think its survival must now really be in doubt."

"Thank you, Marie. I appreciate your input. That's all."

Five days later the board of the Evenings News met at noon to lunch with the final six before beginning the interviews at 1:30. There were five males, all in conservative business suits and one woman, who looked totally relaxed and dressed flamboyantly, and her expression could have been read as "Where's the wine?"

It was a dry lunch, Harold's insistence when important work lay ahead of them. The booze cabinet could be unlocked at the end of the session.

Two of the males interviewed emerged very quickly as front-runners.

Chase was escorted in last -- Harold had instructed the recruitment consultant Marcia to do that.

Marcia read out a precise of Chase's CV and Chase explained her marital break-up honestly and without inviting sympathy.

As with all candidates, Lady Clinton-Jones asked the final fixed question from the interviewing panel: "What is your attitude towards continuing and perhaps enhancing the tradition of our illustrious newspaper?"

The other five candidates all answered roughly the same: They would honour the newspaper's tradition, deeply respecting its past and the inspiration of former editors and they would expand the business viability of the newspaper on that basis.

Chase's answer to that question was, "Oh, it is unlikely I would do that."

Board member Archie Reeves, an accountant and descendant of an original settler was shocked.

"But tradition, the Evening News is built on tradition."

"Oh yes, I have no problem with the ethical and emotional parts of traditions but very much doubt I could live with its business traditions and the current presentations of editorial content. Furthermore..."

"Why?" was the blunt interjection from Al Margate who operated three sports stores.

"Because the whole appearance of the newspaper is outdated and its articles are generally too long and ponderous."

"So you think you're a better writer than our retiring editor and our editorial team?"

"I know this is an unwise thing to say but you need to form a correct impression of me, so I must reply that I very much think so."

Al looked at her with the suggestion of a smile.

"The religious content of our newspaper which is perhaps the most extensive of any daily newspaper in the entire country -- that stays untouched, I presume?"

"No."

"I beg your pardon?" snapped the Rev Charles Worthington.

"No."

"Your explanation please."

"Very well -- I was attempting to avoid the possibility of giving offence. That type of parsimonious and to a large extent irrelevant editorial belongs in weekly newsletters from churches."

"Really!" said the thunderstruck clergyman while most of his board members looked at Chase a little nervously.

"Anything else for the chop?"

"That is impossible to say at this stage Mr....?"

"Goldstein, Isaac Goldstein. I'm a jeweller."

"As regard to changes in content and display, I would listed carefully to opinion from my editorial working party that I would set up."

"In consultation with our chairman," Rev Worthington queried.

"No, under my administration the editorial department would be kept entirely separate from administration. In my management role I would liase with the board and also follow general policy concepts and realise I would have take major spending proposals -- and there are bound to be a few of those -- to the board to be thrashed out."

"So if the board wants a story pulled, it is published unless you think it should be pulled?" asked Al Margate.

"Yes."

"You appear to want to be a real world editor?"

"Yes."

Al beamed.

Public accountant Cedric Withers pressed that point.

"Lady Clinton Jones, Harold and Eric -- you three along with the Lighthouse Insurance Company own 64% of shares in this company. What are your views on this?"

Judith: "I'm nervous about what I'm hearing but am confident I am hearing the right things."

Harold: "Likewise."

Eric Butler, deputy chairman of Lighthouse Insurance: "This newspaper company is bleeding, and something drastic needs to be done. This is almost the first time I've heard innovative thinking towards change being voiced in this boardroom."

There were no more questions, so Chase was shown to the door and told to check that the administrative assistant had Chase's current contact details. Chase had to change her address details, as her apartment was ready for her. She had her personal items from Judith's guesthouse in her car in the company car park.

Chase was driving to the apartment and took a call from Harold who asked her to pull over to the side of the road if she were driving.

"We're trying to reach a consensus and I've been asked to get an unequivocal answer from you to this question: Will you fight tooth and nail for the survival of our city's newspaper."

"Absolutely."

"Is that all you wish to say?"

"Yes."

"Thank you. Good-bye."

"Good-bye Mr Chairman."

Harold laughed and terminated the call.

At that precise moment Chase knew she would be appointed editor. It was likely that Harold hadn't been asked to put that question to her at all. He was attempting to appease opposition to her and fears that Chase's heart might not be first and foremost in protecting the newspaper was the sticking point, apart from Rev Worthington's probably table-thumping that Chase was a Satanic unbeliever out to undermine the moral values and religious believes of the entire city of Walton.

Chase phoned Pru who said she'd love to come for dinner and help celebrate Chase's occupancy of her penthouse.

"I was going on a date, but I'll cancel -- his tongue is hanging out so he'll cope with a twenty-four hour wait."

"Bring him along and what about your mother, should I try inviting her?"

"No, she only goes out at evening to the theatre and functions."

"I'll see you at 6:30."

"That early?"

"Well, if we want to play up we've got to get an early start if we wish to be in reasonable nick to start the new day."

"You're my kind of girl," laughed Pru.

"Girl, I'm old enough to be your mother."

"My older sister, but certainly not mother," Pru giggled.

Just before 6:00 Chase had dinner well underway for at least six people when the phone went.

"Good evening, Harold speaking."

Chase didn't give him a chance to speak.

"Get a bottle of champagne and collect Helen and Judith and be here at 6:30 for drinks and then dinner. I will not accept apologies for non-attendance -- Judith knows where to come."

She then disconnected the call before Harold could speak and turned her phone off.

Pru, her David and Chase were on to their first glass of champagne when the buzzer went. Pru jumped up and grabbled the hand-piece that allowed the lift to pass the security block at the fifth floor.

Harold emerged carrying two bottles of champagne and two bottles of McRae's Pinot "Noir while Judith handed her bottle of champagne to David and asked, "Are you Chase's man?"

Pru turned crimson.

Helen pulled Chase into her ample chest and said, "Congratulations darling -- that board does some stupid things at times but I knew we would chose you."

Harold and Judith, weary from a three-and-a-half hour battle, exchanged grins.

"Hang on, Helen -- you women are too much for me," complained Harold. "Chase, it is my pleasant decision to announce that you have been appointed editor on the unanimous vote of the board. Congratulations."

Chase rushed him and kissed him on both cheeks and then hugged him.

She then turned and held out her hand to Judith, thanking her for her support.

"Come here sweetie," said Judith. The two women kissed and hugged, leaving Pru with her mouth open aware her mother NEVER entered into public displays like that.

"I'm roasting thick steaks, your favourite," smiled Chase, "and no garlic pushed into your piece."

"Oh, thank you Chase and real thick gravy I hope."

"Real thick gravy Judith."

"Pru, would you be a dear and show our new arrivals around -- I have duties in the kitchen."

At the end of a bubbling evening, Harold and Helen drove Judith home and for a while sat outside the front door of the mansion talking.

As Judith was leaving the car Harold said: "Judith, I've been your legal adviser ever since you arrived in this country from Scotland and it was me of course who introduced you to Iain. Several times I have attempted to give you advice about this property but you seem reluctant to listen to me. May I suggest that you talk to Chase about it sometime when you two are alone? She seems to have an impressive business brain but also thinks like a woman."

"An excellent idea, Harold. Now good night you two and drink plenty of water before you retire after drinking liquor. Wasn't it a lovely evening?"

"Yes, beautiful," said Helen, hiccupping.

"I feel our newspaper now has a chance of going forward, Harold."

"So do I, Judith. So do I."

With Helen falling asleep as they drove home Harold though as much as he liked Chase he didn't trust her fully. It was impossible to trust a woman to the hilt when they were so damn unpredictable.

CHAPTER 2

Drinking coffee in his office at the bank, Baxter Hudson was reading the business section of that morning's newspaper when a small paragraph caught his eye.

It stated that award-winning journalist Chase Lewis had been appointed editor of the Walton Evening News, the newspaper company's first woman to be appointed to a senior position in its 189-year history.

Baxter smiled, noting that Chase had gone back to her maiden name. He smiled again because he now knew where his missing wife was located.

* * *

Deputy editor Morrie Wrightson's disappointment at not getting the editorship increased five-fold when he saw Chase Lewis enter the editorial floor with chairman Harold Younger.

The short-listed candidates had been kept apart so had not seen one another, and as soon as their interview was over they'd been asked to leave the building, including Morrie who worked on the newspaper. He seethed when he got a closer view of Chase: she was a damn bimbo. Nice face, nice, tits, nice ass and not a fucking piece of brain in that ridiculously black, black hair of hers.

Well, he'd begin looking for another job. This newspaper under Editor Bimbo would fold within the year, and he was prepared to bet money on that.

Harold astutely introduced Bimbo to everyone in pecking order. Morrie's first surprise was she knew who he was and floored him when she mentioned she'd purchased a dress at his wife's fashion shop only two days ago. Chase then invited him to accompany them as the introductions were made.

The chairman had earlier told the retiring editor Stephen Shadbolt to go to the pub for the afternoon, and that he'd arrive there with Chase about 3:00 to socialise. They had to be back at the boardroom at 4:00 for drinks with all heads of staff and deputies throughout the entire company who'd been called together to meet Chase.

Morrie watched the expressions of people as they generally pretended to be busy until Harold -- conveniently being able to ask Morrie for names -- invited them individually to meet their new editor.

Most of the guys, even the near seventy-year-old racing editor, smiled straight at Chase and then looked at her tits. After a while Morrie wondered if he'd been that blatant. The woman just seemed to ignore it. The females seemed to be checking out her make-up and clothes. Not a single one of them asked the interloper if she could write or even had a clue how a real newspaper was run.