Gentle Pirate

Copyright © 1980 by Jayne Castle Krentz

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The hard silence in the room was intimidating. It was meant to be. A great many people would have willingly accused Simon Kendrick of many things, Kirsten Mallory suspected, and among those accusations would be the fact that the man was well aware of the effect he created. And, she thought grimly, exerting considerable control over her nervous system to avoid recrossing her legs, he had no compunction about using his ability to intimidate. Any other new manager about to conduct a discussion with an employee would have made at least a few token efforts toward creating a relaxed, friendly atmosphere. Not Simon Kendrick. He continued to appear buried in the paperwork in front of him while Kirsten sat waiting patiently in the plush visitor's chair.

Next time, she decided, she would bring her own paperwork. Or a magazine. It would give her something to do while she awaited his attention. But perhaps those of Mr. Kendrick's subjects who had been summoned to a royal audience weren't supposed to occupy their time until the liege lord was free. It might spoil the calculated effort to put them into the proper humble mood. The thought curved her soft, well-defined lips into a smile and she hastily directed her glance toward the window in case the big man happened to look up and see the barely suppressed amusement. She had a feeling life could get quite miserable in a hurry if he thought she was laughing at him.

"I'll be with you in a moment, Miss Mallory," Kendrick said suddenly.

Kirsten withdrew her glance from the uninviting desert vista visible through the window and returned it to the man sitting behind the huge, littered desk. But he hadn't even changed the focus of his gaze when he had spoken. He hadn't needed to, Kirsten decided. Some instinct must have told him that it was time to give the reins a small tug and she had to admit the deep, rough voice with its easy power was adequate for the task. Against her will, she found herself concentrating on him again instead of the view. With a sense of irritation she watched as he continued rapidly scanning the thick document in front of him, flipping pages frequently with his right hand.

The annoyance she was experiencing, Kirsten knew, was generated as much by her reactions to this man as it was by the man himself. Taking a firm grip on her emotions, she settled back into the soft red chair (done in the color of the company's logo) with determination. No man was going to intimidate her ever again. She had made that vow less than three months ago and Simon Kendrick was not going to make her forget it. All right. If he wanted her attention, he would get it. With a vengeance. Why should she bother to worry about rudeness? It obviously didn't bother him to treat her in that fashion. Kirsten decided that the way to deal with the incipient feelings of intimidation was to analyze what it was about the man that threatened her.

Deliberately she studied the dark, inclined head, noticing with detachment that the hair was cut a little too short to be fashionable. The color was a deep, rich brown and she had the impression that bright sunlight would bring out hints of red. So what? Kirsten asked herself with an inner smile. Brown hair was not particularly intimidating. Her own was brown, for that matter, although a softer, lighter shade. Unfortunately it didn't have deep red highlights, she thought wryly. It was, she knew, that rather nondescript brown that people who are trying to be kind will tell you has blond tones. Kirsten had looked for those blond tones in the mirror several times in her younger days, but at the age of twenty-eight she had finally given up the project. Now, as was her custom during working hours, the long length of it, which reached nearly to her waist, was clipped into a neat coil at the back of her head.

Kirsten continued with her survey, dismissing the danger of Simon Kendrick's hair with a small, silent chuckle. Thick eyebrows shielded eyes of an as yet unknown color. Her own gray pair moved steadily on with the assessment. The face wasn't handsome. The man was somewhere in his late thirties and showed it. The lean, harsh planes of his features caused her to wonder if he ever smiled with genuine warmth, and she decided he probably didn't. The clothes suited the man well, she noted. The crisp white shirt, formal tie, and neatly cut coat echoed the somewhat unfashionable hairstyle. He was a tall, very tall, solidly built man who would have looked vaguely ridiculous dressed in a less conservative fashion. Kirsten tried to picture him in a brightly patterned shirt and failed. She concentrated for a moment on his sheer size, obvious even when he was seated, and decided that was a major intimidating factor. She didn't like men who towered over her. After Jim she knew she would go out of her way to avoid such men.

Kirsten finished her perusal with a quick glance at the strong, square right hand with its rather thick wrist, remembering that office gossip said his left ended in a metal hook. Until now he had kept it out of sight behind the desk. No doubt about it. such a device would add a devastatingly heavy weight on the intimidation side of the scale. Kirsten wondered how he had lost his hand and knew she would never bring herself to ask. No one would ask this man anything personal unless invited to do so! She groaned inwardly, thinking about the prospect of working for this creature for the next several months. It was a cinch he wouldn't know the first thing about libraries. She would have to waste countless hours educating him!

"If you've quite finished dissecting me, we may as well get on with this meeting," Kendrick said unexpectedly, managing to glance up and neatly snag Kirsten's gaze be-fore she could shift it to something, anything else. And now she had the answer to the question about his eyes. They were hazel. Which didn't begin to describe them at all, she thought with a tiny sigh. Hazel eyes were able to reflect the whole range of human emotions and the cold, calculating, almost-green depths of Simon Kendrick's eyes definitely had to be listed as another intimidating factor about the man. Anyone who could project that degree of harsh dominance held a powerful weapon. So chalk one up for the eyes, Kirsten decided. Forewarned is forearmed, and she gathered her own not inconsiderable self-confidence about her like a cloak. The need to speak, to make some sort of comment that would restore this little interview to a more equal footing, drove her into rash words.

"Forgive me, Mr. Kendrick, if I appeared to be staring." She smiled sweetly, trying to imply that she could care less if he really did forgive her. "But I got tired of looking out at Rattlesnake Mountain and you're the next…" Kirsten broke off, absolutely horrified at how her tongue had gotten out of control!

"And I was the next largest object around?" He smiled thinly, sparing a brief glance out the window to the huge treeless lump of a mountain known locally as "Rattlesnake." The smile, which barely moved his firm mouth, never reached his eyes. His smiles probably never did.

Kirsten felt herself going quite red and was more than a little surprised. After all, at her age, and after having been made a widow within two months of marriage, she didn't think too many situations could make her lose her poise.

Deciding this was a clear instance of discretion being the better part of valor, she refused to be drawn into a reply she would probably regret. Contenting herself with an apologetic smile, she waited with hidden impatience for the discussions to continue.

He must have reached the conclusion that he had better things to do than bait one of Silco's employees, because after a fractional hesitation Kendrick plunged into the reason why Kirsten had been called to his office.

"As you're well aware, I have only been here for a week, Miss Mallory," he began. "Nevertheless, I think that's long enough to begin asking a few questions. You must have heard that Silco hired me in an effort to trim some of the fat from the organization?"

Kirsten nodded aloofly, thinking she knew now what was coming. Oh, well, it tiadn't been a bad job while it lasted. Too bad she hadn't worked long enough to collect unemployment insurance while she hunted another position, but there was enough in the bank to survive. And she didn't really care for Richland, Washington, or electronics firms anyway!

"Few companies as small as Silco maintain reference libraries, as I'm sure you know," he went on calmly, just as if he weren't about to throw her out onto the street. That conjured up a funny image and Kirsten had to struggle to restrain a smile. The thought of this huge man beginning his cost-trimming exercise by hoisting her own one hundred and eight pounds and tossing her out on George Washington Way, the main thoroughfare through town, struck her as humorous. She even had a picture of the expression on Liz Wilford's face as Kendrick carted the librarian past the receptionist's desk! The sleek cat eyes would be gleaming.

"Furthermore." Kendrick continued. "Silco already has a central filing department to handle the documentation needed." He paused for a moment, apparently waiting to see if Kirsten had anything to say. She refused to be drawn, watching his large right hand idly tap a pencil on the polished desk as he appeared to study her. Well, what did be expect her to do? Create a scene?

"Silco can only afford departments that clearly contribute to the total profit picture…"

"The bottom line." Kirsten suggested dryly, throwing out the managerial buzzword with a touch of the contempt she felt for it.

One heavy brow lifted curiously. She guessed he was trying to decide whether or not she was being impertinent.

"As you say. A department must be judged on bow much it contributes to the bottom line." he agreed equally dryly. the deep voice reflectinc a very soft warning. "And I find little in the way of facts and figures on how the library is doing that," he concluded. He leaned back in the heavy swivel chair and regarded her closely. Without taking his cool hazel gaze off her face, he casually placed his left arm on the desk. The metal hook extending below the white cuff shone gently in the harsh office lighting.

Kirsten's gray-eyed glance flickered in brief, amused curiosity. Was the action his next in the series of intimidating moves he seemed to be making with such calculation? If so, it was a failure. She wondered again how he had lost his hand, knew she would never ask, and proceeded to ignore it. There were more important matters on hand at the moment, such as whether or not her job was worth defending. From a personal angle, it probably wasn't, but there was no denying he had touched her professional pride. Why was it that librarianship, a profession that had a history several thousand years old and that had been instrumental in preserving the history of the human race, still needed defending?

"The reason you haven't come across much information on the library is because your predecessor virtually ignored it. Mr. Kendrick." she stated firmly, and leaned forward to place a thin folder on his desk. The top was so wide, she could not reach far enough to set it directly in front of him, but he obligingly extended his right hand and picked it up.

"I've only been here two months, so there is a lot of hard evidence missing, as you will see. But I've tried to pull together an estimate of engineering time that has been saved because of research done by the library. There is also a section in that report detailing exactly what type of work I perform for the staff. When you read it I think you will find that none of it overlaps the type of work done by the filing section, although I often find it necessary to use their files. The two departments are quite distinct and handle two separate functions. You may of course, decide that the library's function is not needed, but don't make the mistake of thinking it is redundant." Kirsten didn't bother to phrase her meaning in milder tones, because she was already mentally packing her bags and leavins town. The report she had put in Simon Kendrick's hand was accurate, but she thought she already knew enough about the man to guess there was little chance he would understand the value of a company library. Everything she had heard from the gossip mill and had seen for herself fairly shouted that he was hard-bitten corporate management: accustomed to giving orders, determined that profit was the only value, and convinced that his way was the right way. Kirsten didn't care for the type in the least. Privately she decided his arrival was as good a reason as any to check into the job situation on the coast. Seattle was a lovely town, she thought. At least she'd be getting out of this desert!

"Has anyone ever explained the corporate facts of life to you, Miss Mallory?" Kendrick inquired icily as he flipped open the folder and began scanning the thin report inside. Kirsten couldn't help being aware of just how small the document was compared to the rather massive ones stacked on his desk.

"I'm well aware of how everything must be measured in terms of profits, Mr. Kendrick," she replied calmly, gray eyes meeting the steel of his hazel gaze without flinching as he looked up suddenly.

"I'm referring to the managerial hierarchy, Miss Mallory." he returned equally calmly. He glanced down briefly at something she had written in the report and then resumed his intense form of eye contact. "It happens to have its roots in the military structure…" he began, as if about to deliver a lecture.

"That's very unfortunate," Kirsten interrupted feelingly. He couldn't have chosen a less appealing subject, she thought grimly. After Jim Talbot's death Kirsten knew she planned to steer as far from the military world as possible.

"But true, nevertheless," her new manager said firmly, closing the folder gently. "And one of the basic tenets is that lower-ranking members refrain from being impertinent to higher-ranking members!"

Kirsten felt some of the red returning to her face and fought it down with all the mental self-control she could muster. "I've always believed in giving one's loyalty and…" She paused to find the right word. "And respect to those who clearly deserve it."

"Then you probably won't go far in the business world," Kendrick shot back smoothly.