Why Don?

"What do you care?" I grunted back at her, unable to not notice how beautiful she looked in the nude, despite everything.

"Oh come on Mike," Beth went on, talking to me as if I was some errant child. "Don't be grumpy with me. It's not as if we are actually married yet or anything and it was such a wonderful opportunity for me."

"Good was it then?" I demanded, hoping that she'd dig an even bigger hole for herself.

"Not too bad Mike," she admitted uncertainly. "I've always wanted to try a really big one and Don's certainly got that, but he was a bit rough to be honest. Doesn't have a lot of finesse like you do."

"So he's going soon then is he?"

"Not yet Mike," she regally informed me. "I'm just getting us both a snack, as I've asked him to stay the night."

"And where am I supposed to sleep Beth?" I asked, not having to point out to her that our apartment, though somewhat sumptuous, had only one bedroom.

"Oh Mike, I didn't think about that," Beth replied with a look of genuine concern. "Can you sleep on the couch or something honey? It'll only be for the one night."

I simply shook my head, turned on my heels and headed back to the front door. I had other places where I could lay my head for the night and not necessarily on my own if I chose it.

"Don't be like that Mike," Beth's words floated after me as I slammed the door behind me, but she didn't chase after me. Bit difficult when she had no clothes on I suppose.

------------------

I did sleep alone that night in the very hotel that Don should have passed the night in. Our company had an arrangement with them and it was no problem at all. Out of interest I left my mobile phone on, but obviously Beth was too busy or too embarrassed to phone me.

The next morning I woke, had a leisurely breakfast, and wandered over to our offices on foot. There I ensconced myself in my office and started calling some of my staff in, determined to find out all I could about Mr. Mark -- aka Don --Price.

"Tom," I started when I got the head of our engineering department on the phone. "What do you know about this Mark Price guy that's seeing you this morning?"

"Well he's late for a start boss," Tom King 'didn't' surprise me with. "But he owns Price Castings and Engineering, and they've got a pretty good reputation."

"Why have we never used them before then?"

"They were always pretty tied up with Jones and co.," Tom explained to me, not having to say more, since we both knew that our competitors, Jones and co., had very recently gone bust.

"What about their quality Tom?"

"First class boss," he enthused. "They've recently bought one of those new Swedish machines that we looked at last year, so no problem there."

"They were bloody expensive weren't they?"

"Not kidding boss," Tom confirmed. "Even we baulked at splashing out that sort of money."

"Stuck his neck out then, didn't he Tom," I probed my chief of engineering. "He'd need a fair amount of throughput to justify a machine like that.

"Guess so boss, but now Jones and co. have folded, that could only be to our advantage."

"Very interesting Tom," I ended our conversation. "That's just about how I see it."

----------------

"Yes Mr. Davis," Parkinson, the company chief buyer answered me as I greeted him as I walked into his office. "What can I do for you sir?"

Bit formal was old Parkinson, the old school, and had been with the company long before I'd bought them out.

"This Price Castings bunch," I questioned him, trying to keep it casual. "How's the negotiations going?"

"They've provided us with a particularly interesting quote sir," he informed me in his own formal way. "It's a good twenty percent less than we're paying now."

"Why would that be?" I carried on, knowing that old Parkinson knew simply everything that was going on in our industry.

Rumour has it sir, that they have their backs up against the wall. They've invested heavily on the back of an order from some other company, and it didn't quite work out for them."

"Jones and co.," I threw into the conversation, just letting old Parkinson know that he wasn't the only one with his ear to the wall.

"Precisely sir," he beamed at me, genuinely pleased that the boss of his company was so on the ball. "Their customer has gone to the wall, and now they're desperate as we're the only one's left in the UK needing machined castings to that size and standard. I've calculated what their basic costs would be and suggested another eight percent discount."

"Why eight percent?"

"Less than that and they'd go broke as well sir," he told me. "And where would that get us? They're not happy, but I think they'll be obliged to go for it."

"Offer them double the order at a further twelve percent discount," I instructed him with a satisfied smile.

"They'll never accept it sir," he pointed out the obvious. "They'd go broke anyway."

"Precisely," I agreed smugly.

"But that's not like you sir," Parkinson reminded me with a frown. "Our company hasn't built its reputation by doing those sort of things."

"I know," I agreed. "But I have my reasons. Once Mr Price is nice and upset, then bring him up to see me."

----------------------

Old Parkinson wasn't too happy about it, and I hardly wanted to explain to him, or any other of my staff exactly what I planned. However he complied and a couple of hours later, my secretary (Yes --- Ok --- the one that would probably have shared my bed the previous night if I'd asked, though I hadn't done so up till then), announced Mark aka Don's arrival.

"Mr Price is here to see you Mr Davis," she sang out, adding in a lower tone, "He doesn't seem too happy."

"Send him in please Rita," I answered, surprised that Don apparently still hadn't yet made the connection with my surname.

To say that the door burst open would be a bit of exaggeration to be honest, but to say that he burst in wouldn't.

"Now look here Mr Davis," he started in an angry voice, his face very red. "You may be the boss of this conglomerate but....."

At which point he realised quite who he was talking to, and spluttered to a halt, and at last worked out that the Mr Davis who owned our company was none other than his old friend from Uni

"You!" he said at last. "I never ..... I didn't realise."

"How was last night Don," I greeted him. "Have a good time did you?"

He stood there with a look of shock on his face, as it slowly dawned on him quite what he'd done, and quite what an evening's sex was about to cost him.

"Come on Don my old mate," I encouraged him. "How was my fiancé in the sack? What was it like to have your old friend's girl friend sucking you off then?"

"But that apartment you live in," he mumbled, trying to come to terms with his surprise. "You said you rented it. Why would someone in your position rent and not buy?"

"The company owns it old chap," I gleefully informed him. "They rent it to me. It's a tax dodge you know, but perfectly legal."

"I'm fucked, aren't I?" He stated quietly what seemed to be the obvious, his shoulders slumping as he saw his business following Jones and co. down the pan.

"Not as fucked as Beth was last night by all accounts," I pointed out maliciously.

Suddenly looking ten years older, Don turned to walk out of my office, not knowing what else he could say or offer, but I called to him to hang on for a bit.

"I've one final offer to make you Don," I informed him tersely. "More of an exchange than an offer really."

"I'm listening," he grunted, his whole body language displaying defeat.

"I'll swop my fiancé for your company," I delighted in making my offer.

"You're bloody crazy Mike," he threw back at me, but I held up my hand to shut him up.

"You're company needs an injection of capital, I'm informed. I'm told it's about three quarters of a million, and I'm prepared to provide that."

Don's mouth gaped open in surprise, but no words came out.

"In addition," I continued. "You'll get this order you've been seeking at the full price that you first quoted. In fact, we can double the order."

"Why would you do that Mike," he gasped out. "After .... Well, after last night."

"Because you're an old friend Don," I teased him a little before carrying on with the truth. "And because I want seventy five percent of your company."

"Seventy five percent," he all but squealed. "But that would leave me with ......"

"Twenty five percent," I helped him out with the maths. "And don't forget Beth. You get to keep her as well."

"Beth," he gasped yet again, his mind clearly reeling with what I'd proposed.

"Yes Beth," I confirmed with a grin. "I'm going over to Germany later today, and won't be back for three days. When I get back I want her gone, and I want you to arrange it. Don't care how you do it, but I want that whore out of my apartment and my life. You can keep her not as you chose, but I want her gone and gone for good."

"Seventy five percent?" Don repeated in a daze, that part worrying him more than the other side.

"That's right Don," I concluded. "Now if you wouldn't mind, I've got a lot to do before I go off to Germany, so you'll have to excuse me. Get the details of our solicitors from my secretary on your way out."

-----------------------

I did indeed go to Germany, and took my stunning, young, coffee coloured secretary Rita with me. She was a bit surprised, as I'd never taken her before, but was an intelligent girl and caught on quickly. Without being asked, she only booked one room for us, but it was the best one available. The bed was bloody enormous!

Move on I say, and don't look back and mope over spilt milk.

--------------

I settled for seventy percent in the end, but I was happy with that; it gave me control and I had honestly expected him to hold out for a bit more.

It was a bit of a steal really but he went for it anyway. Guilty conscience perhaps?

Price's Castings and engineering became part of my growing empire, and my good friend Tom King got that Swedish machine he'd been hankering after.

Turned out to be a good investment as well, and even Don, now known as Mark, eventually accepted that though we'd never be friends again, that I wasn't a bad boss to work for.

And Beth?

What about Beth?

I've absolutely no idea exactly what happened to dear Beth. She was gone when I got back from Germany and I've never met up with her since and never asked Mark. Did see her in a commercial for cat food the following year, and heard a strong rumour that she'd starred in some porn movie. Haven't been able to get hold of a copy so far, but yes ---- I have tried. I'm not one to hold grudges.

Seems like Mark kept his side of the bargain somehow or other.

Comforting to know that you've got competent and loyal employees, isn't it? Now I wonder if Mark could find me a copy of that porn film?

+++++++++++

Hope you enjoyed it, and no doubt many of you will tell me one way or the other.

So where's the similarity to me that I mentioned at the beginning?

I am a boss, but not of a huge company.

I was mid thirties -- once! (Long time ago though)

I've never had an actress as a fiancé, but did have a wife who became a playboy bunny after she dumped me (long, long time ago, by the way).

I did have a rather beautiful black secretary when I worked in East Africa, but I certainly never ended up in bed with her.

Ok, it's the car!

My pride and joy is a wonderful XK140 Jag just like the one in the story, for which I consider myself to be a very lucky man. Sorry, but with all this talk on the site about Mustangs lately, I thought I'd just drop my pennyworth in for Jags.