Romantic Acquisition Page 0,25
store and the company but what she’d heard about David’s management didn’t set well with her. “I’m not sure. I didn’t realize that things were so bad. My team only does the purchasing. I don’t think David understands the impact his cost cutting measures have on the stores’ vitality.”
“Do you?” he questioned sharply.
Kate was a little taken aback by his question and the anger behind it. “Of course. I think all the employees should be treated well, whether they work in a corporate environment or any other.”
“What else do you see about David’s management style?” he asked as he turned sharply to the right to get ahead of a minivan.
Kate considered that question for a long moment. “I can’t see any blatant trends but things are going a little sour even at the headquarters level. The amount of office politics that seem to be floating around is getting a bit out of hand. And it tends to be a little petty as well.”
Carlo nodded and Kate must have said the right thing. His anger dissipated with her observations. “I’ve seen it too. The people working for David complain about decisions in the kitchen while getting a cup of coffee or heating up their lunch.”
Kate agreed. “I guess when it gets to that level, people are pretty unhappy.”
He glanced at her quickly before turning her attention back to navigating the rush hour traffic. “What would you do about it?”
“Oh, my. You ask a lot of difficult questions.” Carlo was pulling into an underground parking garage. “The first thing I would do is give back all the benefits that have been taken away. There’s no reason someone working forty hours a week should not have health insurance. I think even part time people, maybe those working twenty hours or more should have benefits.”
“Good start. What else,” he asked and shut down the engine but didn’t move to leave the car.
“Maybe talk to them more. David doesn’t like to dirty his hands with the riffraff. But from what I heard today, there are some great ideas from the workers. Many of those ideas made a lot of sense.”
“And?”
They were getting out of the car and Carlo led her to the elevators. He put in a key and the doors opened immediately. “I’m not sure. I’m guessing you have a suggestion but I’m not heading in the right direction.”
Carlo smiled, but it was a tight smile. “No, you’re heading in the right direction with the comments suggestion, but expand it a little more.”
The elevator doors opened to an immaculate apartment. But it was all decorated in white. There was a white sofa, white carpeting, white curtains. The only relief from the white was a long black coffee table in front of a black stone fireplace. “Wow! This place needs some color,” she said immediately. She regretted her comment when Carlo turned and stared at her. “Sorry, your decorating is none of my business,” she said and put her purse on a white, marble table.
“Can Sarah be trusted?” he asked, not mentioning her color comment.
“Absolutely. She’s my personal assistant.”
“So she won’t go back and discuss anything she hears tonight with the management at Jamison’s?”
“No. She’s not a huge fan of David’s so she keeps her distance.”
“Is there another possible reasons she stays away?” he called back as he headed into another room.
Kate followed him, curious to see the other areas of Carlo’s home. She froze in the kitchen, sure she had just entered a sterile zone. The cabinets were all white with frosted glass panels. The countertops, stove, refrigerator and ovens were all stainless steel. Even the toaster blended in. There was some great lighting that was hidden in very precise and strategic places. But in Kate’s opinion, this was not a room to make cookies or try out a new recipe as she liked to do occasionally. This was a room a hospital would envy.
“Whoa!” she whispered, still standing in the doorway.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, picking up the phone and dialing.
Kate regrouped and closed her mouth. “Nothing,” she said, but he’d caught her shocked expression.
He chuckled at her attempt at tact. “I guess you don’t like my kitchen either.”
Kate shrugged her shoulders. “It just isn’t my style,” she said diplomatically.
Carlo smiled at her feeble attempt at being sensitive. “Translated, that means you hate it,” he said then spoke into the phone. “I’ll need dinner for four,” he said to someone. He nodded then covered the mouthpiece. “Is beef okay with you?” he asked.
“Sure,” she