The Lovely Chocolate Mob - By Richard J. Bennett Page 0,72

a right and wrong?” Now she was making my wheels turn.

“It’s common knowledge that Cornelius Lovely was a man of faith; he may have been a Quaker, I believe. As for the board, I know nothing about them except the name of the chairman of the board, Mr. Hal Ostrander. I was finally able to reach him by phone, and he said I could speak before the board today. His work biography is listed on the internet, but I haven’t read it in depth, except that he’s spent his whole career with Lovely Chocolate.”

“Are there any women on the board?”

I hadn’t thought of that. What if there were women on the board? What difference would that make?

“What are you thinking?” I asked.

“I was thinking, perhaps if you played the family up, the ladies of the group would probably be persuaded to think about the children before the men got around to thinking about them. That sounds a little as though I’m assigning roles, but there are differences between men and women.”

“You’re saying that if I speak about the four Burke children, this will convince the ladies on the board?”

“That is my first thought, yes.”

“Thank you, Miss Planter. You’ve just given me useful information which I hope will be what I need to right a wrong situation.”

We stood there in the reception room for a moment. She looked as though she was expecting something, but I had nothing to give her. My goodness, it wouldn’t be anything for me just to lean over and kiss her face.

“I speak at two; I’ve got to go.” I turned to leave.

“Good luck!” I looked back at her, and grinned. “Oh, you don’t believe in luck, do you?” she said, correcting herself. “Well then, knock ‘em dead!”

“You’ve been a big help to me, Miss Planter. I wish you could come with me.”

“I wish I could go as well.”

This surprised me; I actually heard myself gasp. “But you’ve got an appointment, you’ll be helping somebody.”

“Yes.”

“Thank you, Miss Planter.” I left the reception room, walked down the hall, skipped the elevator, and took the stairs. On the walk down the steps to the parking lot, I was talking out loud and saying to myself, “She likes me. She likes me! She likes me!” putting emphasis on different words, and then I quit talking to myself suddenly when passing by the security guard, who was sitting at his station, who gave me a strange look.

The Lovely Chocolate Factory

I arrived at the huge company complex in plenty of time. The whole plant was built on a hill, known as Lovely Hill, on the north side of town, where it had plenty of room to expand on land it owned and maintained. I knew a little something about the layout since the company I worked for, Root and Bonham, had done business with Lovely, designing and installing drain ditches and pipes for their newer buildings. In the car, at the far end of the parking lot, I donned a wig, dark lenses, and a beard and mustache.

Outside the boardroom was a holding area with plush high-backed chairs, complete with leather cushions. Secretaries and receptionists were at their stations nearby, and made sure I was comfortable with drinks, cookies, and of course, chocolates. My stomach had became a wreck on the drive up to Lovely; I was walking into unfamiliar territory, and, not being much of a public speaker, felt like Daniel outside the Lions’ Den. “It’s only for three minutes,” I told myself, but those three minutes could make or break Helen’s family. I drank lots of water and had a few cookies, but didn’t think I could handle the chocolates. The secretaries must have thought I was important from the treatment they were giving me, or else everybody was treated as though they were important. I was used to hearing, “There’s the water fountain; help yourself.”

I watched the circular clocks and followed the second hand for about five minutes. At about a minute until 2 p.m., a receptionist came up to me and said, “Mr. Smith? The board is ready to see you.” I stood, and she opened the door to the boardroom, and walked me in. I expected her to introduce me, but the board meeting was already in session; they must have started early! Mr. Hal Ostrander, the board director, spoke first, saying, “It’s good to see you, Mr…. Smith. The board is interested in what you have to say. You may start speaking … now,” saying