“And you’re divorced?” Wyatt asked, his blue eyes holding hers, being just a little obtrusive.
That was not on her resume. Wyatt had run some background checks on her before showing up. That indicated he was more thorough than her first impression had suggested.
“I don’t know what bearing that has on…”
“This position would require that you move to a new city, Miss Kramer. It’s easier for a single person.”
“The divorce was finalized over two years ago.”
“You mind if I call you Janice?”
“I go by Jan.”
“And you don’t object to moving?” He went back to staring at the airplanes.
“Probably not,” she said. “Mr. Wyatt, your ad simply asked for, ‘Attorney, aviation law and contracts.’ I don’t know anything about your company. For instance, for starters, where is it located?”
Wyatt turned his head and grinned at her. “It isn’t. It’s not even formed yet, which is the first reason I need a lawyer. But I’m leaning toward Albuquerque as the base of operations at the moment. Do you like Albuquerque?”
“I’ve never been there.”
No wonder it was a blind ad. The whole thing was beginning to sound like a fly-by-night scheme. Without really meaning to do it, Kramer started to reverse the procedure of the interview. She became the interviewer. “What kind of business are you starting, Mr. Wyatt?”
“We’ll be consulting professionals in aviation matters,” he said. “Anything from efficiency studies to route management to federal aviation applications to customizing and rebuilding very sophisticated aircraft for clients.”
“And you have the background for that?”
Again, she got the half-grin, as if he was amused at the course of the conversation. “I just got out of the Air Force, Miss Kramer.”
“You were a pilot?”
“Of just about every aircraft type they have.”
“And you retired?”
“No. I left a couple years early.”
And gave up his pension? No way. He was probably kicked out of the service. She was becoming very skittish. “Mr. Wyatt, I’m not sure I’m the one…”
“You haven’t asked about salary.”
“All right. What salary are you offering?”
“We’d start you at seventy thousand.”
Well, now.
“If it works out for you, and for us, we’ll boost that steadily and throw in stock bonuses and stock options.”
“You say ‘us’, Mr. Wyatt.”
“There are some friends of mine who will be joining the company.”
It sounded a little more interesting to Kramer, being in on the start-up of a new enterprise. Still, there were no guarantees.
“You seem assured that this venture will be successful,” she said.
“It will be.” He spoke with absolute confidence. “I already have four contracts lined up. Of course, my attorney will have to check them over before I sign them.”
“It sounds like a fair opportunity,” she said, attempting to be nice, “but I guess I’m also looking for some degree of security.”
His grin widened. “Well, Jan. At the moment, I could guarantee your salary for a couple hundred years. I’ve got ten million in capitalization.”
“My God! Where do you get money like that?”
“That’s one of those little secrets we have to rationalize. Think of it as Seattle’s water supply.”
Shady. All she could think was that this was on the shady side.
“I don’t know about you,” he said while looking at his watch, “but your questions have convinced me. Do you want to go to dinner with a new boss?”
“You’re offering me the job?”
“If you could pack tonight, you can fly to Albuquerque with me in the morning.”
The whole thing was preposterous, of course. She couldn’t just fly away to some vaporous destination with a stranger she had just met.
But she did.
And her father was furious with her.
In four years, Andy Wyatt had never been bossy. And after four years, Janice Kramer was vice president, treasurer, and general manager of the company and making $100,000 plus bonuses annually. She did not get the really impressive bonuses some of the others did, but then she did not take the same risks they did. Wyatt appreciated her, though. He hated administrative details and left all of the day-to-day decisioning and the standard contracting to her. Only on general policy questions and special contracts did she get together with Wyatt and Barr and argue the merits. She had learned to love and trust both of them. She thought the feelings were reciprocal, though Wyatt wasn’t the effusive type, and Bucky Barr was so outgoing he loved everyone.
And her relationship with Wyatt had taken a course with more curves in it than the Rio Grande. She wasn’t quite certain how she had allowed herself to become so involved — enthralled? — with a man whose attention was so easily diverted by high risk.
The phone rang and Liz Jordan answered it, then swivelled her chair toward her, “Andy’s on Line One, Jan.”
“Thanks.” Gently moving Ace’s massive head from the telephone console, she picked up the receiver. “Are you on-site?”
Whenever this kind of operation was under way, they used extreme caution on the telephone.
“On site and schedule,” Wyatt told her.
“Good.”
“Have you heard from Neil?”
“He called last night,” she said. “He made the first contact, even though it interfered with a fabulous dinner he had planned.”
“How did it go?”
“The dinner? He didn’t say.”
“No, damn it.”
“The contact looks promising. He thinks it will pan out, but he won’t know for certain until the end of next week.”
“All right, then. We may put this together yet.”
“You didn’t have problems in Arizona?” she asked.
“Only a good one. We were able to obtain the full complement of equipment. If we’re going to stay on schedule, I need a couple more bodies.”
Of Aeroconsultants’ thirty-eight employees, only sixteen, including herself, had been cleared by Wyatt and Barr for special contracts. “You’ve used them up, Andy. All we’ve got left is Fox, and I’ve got him out in Riyadh.”
“I know. What do you think about bringing in Harris and Gering?”
Lefty Harris and Amie Gering were engine techs. “You’ve got power plant problems?”
“We’re going to rebuild them all, but no, not real problems. They can handle some of the other chores, like everyone else is doing. Painting, for one.”
“How long would you need them?” she asked, feeling suddenly protective of her schedule. “I’ve already got a backlog of projects for them here.”
“A week.”
“Andy.”
“Ten days, maybe.”
“You think they’re ready for this?”
“They won’t know the whole operation. I’ll meet them in Lincoln, first, and work them through it.”
“Okay,” she said with some misgivings.
Jan Kramer did not like risking her whole future on unexpected developments.
Nelson Buckingham Barr had been married once, while he was stationed at Nellis Air Force Base in Nevada. Raylene Delehanty Barr was a statuesque blonde who stood four inches taller than Barr. Her physique had matched the strict requirements for showgirls at the Tropicana, and Barr had thought at the time that everything about her was flawless. It was not the first time he had been wrong, but it was the most expensive time. The excitement went out of the marriage in about thirty days, and the passion followed a couple months after that. It had cost him a $200,000 settlement to get unmarried.