20

THE ONLY OTHER PERSON to whom Brad Hanley gave a key to Room 606 at the Biltmore Hotel, Ocean State’s regular suite, was his wife, Pat. He told her she could always use the room to freshen up if she happened to be in downtown Providence for any reason.

Pat asked Doug Fiore to meet her there about seven o’clock on Thursday night. She told him not to eat before coming, that he’d be her guest for dinner. Pat knew that her husband wouldn’t be getting home from the plant until sometime close to midnight. That gave her all the time she needed to plead her case with Fiore.

She filled the ice bucket from the dispenser in the hallway and had almost finished her first drink before Fiore arrived. Brad stocked several bottles of liquor along with soda and tonic water in an alcove of the living area’s large armoire, just below the television set. At Pat’s suggestion, Fiore poured a drink for himself and refilled hers. They raised their glasses and toasted their good health. Hanley sat down at one end of the tuxedo-armed sofa, moving several pillows aside to make room for herself. She expected Doug to join her there, but he chose to sit opposite her, in a large wing chair covered in an attractive lime green fabric.

“Let me tell you a little about Brad and me,” Pat began. For the next twenty minutes, uninterrupted, she took Fiore from the morning she first met her husband in a Dayton, Ohio, factory to the Valentine’s Day party at their home a week earlier when she started to talk to Fiore about Ocean State Wire. She described the various jobs Brad held in Pittsburgh and how they anguished over the decision of whether to relocate to Rhode Island. The Platt brothers found him running a very successful company, a subsidiary of Bethlehem Steel, and offered him the chance to be president of a wire-making facility. Brad made several trips to Rhode Island before reaching his decision. He spent hours observing the operation of the plant and almost as much time being driven around Providence and a number of other towns to get a feel for the area.

“He was sure from what he saw that he could make Ocean State much more productive than it was,” Pat continued. “That was a real challenge to him. And he fell in love with the East Side and the ocean and being so close to everything that Brown University offered. He wanted to come here but was ready to turn it down if I didn’t think it was a good time for our three children to move. The oldest was about to start high school at that time. He also was ready to reject the offer if I couldn’t be happy this far from my family. I honestly didn’t know what to tell him. Brad finally called Irwin Platt and asked if he could bring me to Providence for a few days before he gave them an answer. That was a pretty unusual request in those days. But Mr. Platt agreed, and the rest, as they say, is history.” She smiled as she finished telling the story. Then, glancing at her watch, Pat added, “And that’s just the short version.”

“Sounds like it has the makings of a major motion picture,” Fiore countered. He returned her smile. “Anyway, did Brad accomplish what he thought he could get done at the plant?”

“Oh, yes,” she said. “For a while he was going like gangbusters. In just over a year they were setting records almost every month for the amount of wire being shipped. My husband was as happy as a pig in doodoo. He changed some of the production methods that didn’t come under the union contract, and the Platts let him purchase a few of the new machines he wanted. Brad was sitting on top of the world. Those first two to three years with the Company were some of the best years of his life. He couldn’t wait to get out of bed in the morning and go to work.”

Fiore got up to get another drink and asked Pat if she wanted one. “I shouldn’t,” she answered. “Two is really my limit. But if you make sure I don’t do anything foolish, I’ll join you.”

“You’re among friends,” he said, and they smiled at each other. He put more ice in both glasses and asked, “So what happened?”

“A few things,” she answered. “First, a couple of big wire companies in Canada started marketing campaigns to go after business here in the States. Brad said they did it because things had gone sour with their own customers who cut way down on their orders. Their plants are much newer than Ocean State and can produce more on their up-to-date machinery with a lot fewer employees.

“When they brought their prices down, they began picking up orders this plant was handling for years. Brad knew he had to get more production out of his men to stay competitive and hold on to as much business as they could. But the Union—it was the Steelworkers back then—wouldn’t let him make any changes that weren’t in line with the contract. He warned them that they were cutting their own throats, but they wouldn’t listen.” Fiore mixed the drinks and was standing behind the wing chair as Pat spoke. As soon as she stopped to take a breath, he returned her glass and sat down again.

“They never do,” he said. “That’s why union memberships have been going straight downhill for the last twenty years.”

“I wish they’d all just disappear forever.” Pat almost hissed as she spoke.

“Let me hear the rest of it,” Doug said.

Pat took a sip of her drink, and then another. “When the contract expired,” she began again, “Brad went after the language he needed to run the plant differently. The Union fought him every step of the way. By that time, the Company was losing money for over a year. Every month things kept getting worse. He knew it could be suicide for Ocean State to sign the new contract the Union wanted, so one day he called everyone into a meeting. He explained to the men how the Union was standing in their way and wouldn’t budge, and showed them how their jobs were in danger unless they could turn things around. That got to some of the older employees, the ones who had the most to lose. They went around and spoke to the others, including the second shift. I forget the procedure, but they had some sort of an election and voted to get rid of the Steelworkers Union.”

Fiore started to find it very disconcerting to look at Pat as she sat with her legs crossed. He moved from his chair to the other end of the sofa. “That was just about the time the Tarantinos bought into the Company,” he said.

“That’s right, and that was the worst thing that could have happened to Brad.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because he’d already shown the Platts what he could do. Now he felt he had to prove himself all over again to the new people. He wanted them to see a profit right away and figure they’d made a good investment. He was free to run the plant as he wanted, without any union work rules or interference. That let him get more wire produced with the same number of people as before. The problem was that customer orders kept drying up. It was the first stage of the recession but no one realized it. Brad called everyone he knew in the wire business to find out if they were all seeing the same thing. And he tried to get any leads he could for the kinds of wire Ocean State produces.” Pat reached for her glass again.

“That should have been a signal to him to just go with the flow and not try anything drastic,” Fiore said.

“You’re right,” she concurred, “and in hindsight Brad knows that. But he was obsessed at the time. When there was no chance to show a profit from sales, he decided to get there by doing what he could with the wages and benefits. First, he took fifty cents an hour from everyone, across the board. Then your office showed him how much money he could save by switching health plans for the employees. He did that too, moving them from Blue Cross into an HMO. They learned to live with that, I guess, until Brad made everyone start contributing part of the cost—I think it was about fifteen percent. They never had to do that before. And since he already cut their wages once, they saw that as a second cut in pay. They had no idea those things were going to happen to them when they voted out the Steelworkers.”

“Do you know who in my office spoke to Brad about changing health plans?” he asked.

“I’m sure it was George Ryder,” she replied.

Fiore realized that he most likely would refer any call from Hanley on that subject over to Ryder. He now remembered Ryder showing him how much money the new health coverage would save Ocean State, and his complimenting George on their getting off on the right foot with the client. The fifteen percent contribution by the employees came later, as Pat said, most likely put into effect by Hanley without first consulting Ryder.

“I get the picture,” Doug told her, nodding his head up and down. “That’s why they went out and brought the Machinists Union in to represent them.”

“And forced Brad to give them back a lot of what he took away,” Pat added. She was silent for a few moments. “The Union called his bluff at the end of the negotiations. Brad said the owners cut his balls off at the last minute by ordering him to settle the contract without a strike.” Pat quickly realized she should have made the same point less crudely, and wondered if that thought caused her to blush at all.

The words titillated Fiore. In the short time he knew her, he never expected to hear her talk like that. “It was an image problem for the new investors,” he told her. “They have good friends in most of the labor unions in Providence.” He was lying to her, creating an excuse on the spot, but he felt he had no choice. He wasn’t going to tell her that he made the decision for the good of Doug Fiore, or even for the good of the firm, that he didn’t want to chance losing a good client to a strike. “They were under a lot of pressure not to have a big fight with the Machinists at that particular time, and the Platts went along with it. But understand that it’s the Platts who call the shots, not the Tarantinos, and maybe they’re ready for a fight now if the Union’s demands are ridiculous. I don’t know. What does Brad say?”

“I guess that’s why I wanted to see you tonight, Doug. What he says scares me. Brad’s certain there’s going to be a strike this time, and I can see how badly he wants one. He lost the respect of most of the men at the Company three years ago when he cut their wages and benefits and then caved in to their demands. That hasn’t changed at all, so he figures he has to start over again with a new workforce. He can only do it if the guys who are there now go out on strike. This is the best chance he’ll ever have, he told me, because there are so many unemployed people looking for work. He believes he can find good replacements for most of the production employees in no time at all.”

“Brad may be right,” Fiore said.

“He seems to be sure of it. He’s going to see what the Union wants the most, what issues they’re ready to strike for. He’s prepared to say ‘No’ to all of them, no compromises. Brad wants to hold the door open for them if they decide to walk out. How shall I put it, Doug? He wants his manhood back.”

Fiore thought it was a great opening and didn’t hesitate. “In the locker room they’d say he wants to show he’s grown a new pair of balls.” He watched Pat’s reaction. She nodded her head up and down and then surprised Doug by continuing the conversation in its off-color mode.

“Yes, that’s it, but I’m afraid they’re getting so big they’ll drag the rest of him down. It’s hard to do much when you’re on your knees.” Pat looked at him for a few seconds, smiled coyly, and added, “At least, if you’re engaging in war, it is.”

But not if you’re making love, Doug thought to himself. The smile was still on her lips. He was sure she was thinking the same thing. The conversation was getting him horny.

Pat continued. “From last July to December he was staying at the plant five nights a week and going in part of Saturday. At least eighty hours a week most of the time. He’s still working late every Tuesday and Thursday and it’s almost impossible for me to keep him home for a whole weekend. He’s doing anything and everything he can to get more production for less money without violating the goddam contract. He sends personal letters to every customer that ever bought wire from the Company, trying to get orders from them. I guess I’m the only one who’s close enough to see what’s happening. Brad’s got a love affair going with Ocean State Wire and he doesn’t want to let anything come between them.”

Fiore felt instinctively that it was the right moment to move over and sit next to Pat on the sofa. He wanted to be able to offer her support, if he could, and thought his closeness to her would send that signal. “What would you like me to do?” he asked softly.

“It’s really what I want you to be ready to do,” she said. “The owners lost a lot of money last year. Brad was afraid they might decide to call it quits when the auditor’s figures came in a month ago. I never saw him in such bad shape as the week after he got the report. He looked like he was falling apart, one day after the next. And believe me, it had nothing to do with what he was losing on his three percent of the business.

“Maybe you already know whether they’re planning to close the place or trying to sell it. I probably shouldn’t ask about that. But if nothing’s been discussed, or at least decided yet, I just hope you can let them know what Brad’s been doing to try and keep it alive.”

“No problem,” Fiore told her. He felt he had to fudge his answer to her so that she wouldn’t be questioning him as to the status of the plant every time Brad worried about its future. “Just so you’ll know,” he continued, “the Tarantino family employs my firm to handle certain matters for them, but there are other things they prefer not to come to us for advice on. Labor relations is one of them, although it wouldn’t matter in this case anyway. It’s been a while since I heard anything from the Platts. But as soon as Irwin or Sam calls me, I’ll make sure they understand the effort Brad’s been putting in.”

“Thanks, Doug. I really appreciate it.”

He wanted to find out more about this woman. “I assume everything’s okay between you and Brad?” he asked.

“I’ll answer that in a second,” Pat responded. “That favor I asked comes in two parts, and I only gave you the first.”

“Okay, let’s hear the rest.”

“I’m afraid Brad might force the employees out on strike even if he could get a fair settlement of the contract without it. His attitude seems to be, ‘Give me everything I want or to hell with you.’ He’s like the Titanic looking for an iceberg.” Pat took note of the half smile her words brought to Fiore’s lips, and went on.

“I’m not sure George Ryder really understands what’s going on in Brad’s head. If he does, I don’t know whether he can control him. That’s why I’d like you to keep an eye on what’s happening in the negotiations. See if the Union is looking for a settlement that’s fair to both sides. If they’re going to try and push Brad around again, like last time, that’s one thing, and a fight will be inevitable. But if they recognize the problems at the plant and their demands show it, someone else may have to sit down with Brad and talk sense to him.”

Pat was beginning to have trouble continuing with what she had to say. She looked down at her hands, folded together, and closed her eyes for several seconds. When she raised her head again, he could see the film of water in her eyes.

“I think you may even have to ask the owners to step in and stop him from doing something foolish. Maybe they’ll have to tell him again that they don’t want a strike. Is it something you can keep up with, Doug?”

He waited until she was looking directly at him. “I’ll make the time. Don’t you worry about it. I’ll tell Ryder to show me all the proposals that go back and forth in the negotiations, and to update me orally as often as necessary. We won’t let Brad jump off the deep end if we can help it.”

A few tears began running down the sides of Pat’s face. She brushed them away with her finger. Once again she was certain she had a close friend in Doug Fiore, the only person she could trust to help her keep Brad from taking too many missteps and falling off the cliff. She thanked Doug again and then leaned over and kissed him softly on the cheek.

“Back to your question,” she said. “Brad and I have been in love for almost twenty-five years. It’s been a good marriage. It hasn’t been perfect but no one should expect that. I could always tell when some other woman caught his fancy for a while. It happened a handful of times. I never once said a word to him about it because I knew it was just an infatuation, a temporary need for a different sexual outlet, one that would blow over soon enough. A woman has a lot of ways of knowing when that’s happening. Men aren’t as smart when it comes to that. None of them want to believe that their wives may be getting some much-needed sexual satisfaction somewhere else. The male ego can’t handle that. So they ignore the clues that may be sitting right out there in the open.”

Fiore was poised to follow up on her last statement but then thought better of it.

“There were times when I was very depressed about something and Brad couldn’t be there for me. He was too busy. There were too many things on his mind at work. There was no way he could give me the attention I wanted, the holding and the hugging my body was crying for, even the sex that I hoped would push the depression away, at least for a while.

“I didn’t go out looking for other men when that happened. But I’m convinced we send out bright red flashing signals when we feel like that. It seems that every man in the street, or in the restaurant or bar can pick up on it. Sooner or later one of them has the right opening line and you end up in bed. The regrets come later on and hang around longer than you like, but at the time it’s a catharsis, a wonderful release.”

Pat took one of Doug’s hands and worked her fingers into his. He wasn’t sure what to make of it. “Brad and I? Like I said, still in love. But for the past nine months Ocean State Wire & Cable has been the only thing on his mind. I’m there for him, but all his energy is aimed in another direction.” She hesitated but he could see she wasn’t finished. “It’s very depressing,” she whispered.

Fiore felt the sudden hardening in his crotch. Pat was leaning toward him and he could see that she wanted to be held. He raised his arm and she brought her head and shoulders into his chest. Where are we going with this? he asked himself. Doug was comfortable in his relationship with Carol Singer and wasn’t looking to get involved in another liaison. Pat raised her head and silently asked for a kiss. He couldn’t refuse, and pressed his lips lightly against hers. But she wanted to kiss hard, long and hard.

Pat’s intention was clear, and the moment of decision presented itself. Either he had to back off immediately and give her some lame excuse, or take what she was offering and consider it a onetime unexpected bonus. What the hell, he thought, as his natural eagerness for sex took over, it’s like I’m doing the client a favor.

“Don’t I know you from somewhere?” he said, when she rested her head back on his chest.

Pat laughed. “That’s the best opening line I’ve heard in a long time. But I invited you here for dinner and we haven’t had a thing to eat yet.”

“It’s okay,” Doug answered, all indecision now gone. “I’ve been thinking about giving up dinners for Lent.”

She laughed again, moved away from his arm and got up from the couch. “In that case,” she said, reaching down to take one of his hands, “let me show you the rest of my humble dwelling.”

Doug followed her into the bedroom. He was thinking that he’d slept with Carol at the Marriott the night before and with Grace at home on Tuesday. This would make it three different women on three consecutive nights. It wasn’t quite his favorite fantasy of having two women in bed with him at the same time, but it would do for now.