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“Never would have thought so at first.” Weed raised his beer in an acknowledgment of a job well done before taking a long pull. “But then, I never would have thought the big boss’d be hanging out here, and I never would have thought I’d be interested in a single thing he had to say.”
“I didn’t know what else to do,” Van said. “I knew I didn’t know how to save a company that made industrial fasteners. We were losing a customer a week. Remember that? Mind you, most of them were small fry, and we didn’t make much money from them. We were probably better off without them, as it turned out. But then I heard rumors our biggest customer was in trouble.”
Weed eyed Mary, then glanced at Van, who gave a barely perceptible nod. Mary clenched nervous fists under the table. This might be the start of what she needed to see and hear.
Chapter Eighteen
The Tempest in the Takeover
“W
E DIDN’T BELIEVE YOUat first,” Weed said. “We figured you were just one more corporate fat cat trying to scare us into signing a new contract with cuts in pay and benefits.”
Van rubbed his chin. “Yeah, that was the toughest part—gettingyouandyourguystobelieveanything I said.”
Mary mentally shook her head. She thought shehad a trust problem. Business owners really needed tohearwhatVanandWeedhadtosayaboutlearning how to make past mistakes stay in the past.
“Never would’ve if we hadn’t hunkered down in that corner over there, and Lola kept bringing the beer … ”
Van groaned. “Don’t remind me. The hangover … ”
“Paid off, though, didn’t it? Especially after we got drunk enough to go spy on the Battleford Manufacturing guys in their bar.”
Mary tried to see Van in that picture. Getting drunk? Spying? Surely not. Both usually involved getting mussed, at least a little. She tucked a to-do item into the back of her brain. Observe Van getting drunk and mussed.
“I remember,” Van said. “The Battleford guys were threatening to go out on a wildcat strike.”
“Boy, they were mad, and scared. Their bosses were doing the usual when a company is in trouble, laying people off, cutting wages, expecting scared, pissed-off people to do more for less. Then they were surprised when it didn’t work, but they kept thinking it should work, so they went and did it again.”
“I’ve always wondered what makes people think that way,” Van said.
Weed gave Van’s back another resounding slap. “And when you showed us the books, well, at least we could see why you might have to cut back too. Sure was a great way to get us to help figure out how to find another way to stay in business.”
Gus signaled to another waitress, and he and Lola Rose quietly pulled chairs up to the table.
“You know better if you’re a cook,” Gus said. “You don’t have much of a soufflé if you think you can’t afford to put eggs into it.”
Van grinned, but shrugged. “The obvious thing to do when your company’s in trouble is raise prices. If you can’t, if your customers can’t or won’t pay, you have to cut costs. Unless, as Weed says, you find another way.”
“Van here always was pretty smart for a boss man,” Weed told Mary. “He said we were gonna try something else. One of the things we tried was figuringouthowtohelpBattlefordfixtheirproblems, and presto, they’d keep buying our parts, and that’d keep us afloat too. And who knows how to fix the problems? The guys on the floor who do the work, that’s who.”
“It was a good bet to try.” Van shrugged.
Good bet? Shmet. It was smart thinking, that’s what. It was two sides putting aside their differences and having enough respect for each other to listen.
“I think I’m the first union guy at Van Deventer Ventures to ever have a company expense account.” Weed buffed his fingernails on his sleeve with exaggerated pride and pleasure.
“Okay, I’ll bite,” Mary said. “An expense account for … ”
“Buying drinks, of course.” Weed guffawed. “The boss here told me to go hang out around the Battleford bar some more.”
“It did take a lot of — lubrication — to fund your industrial espionage,” Van said with a rueful smile.
“Just the cost of doing business. And it worked, didn’t it?”
“It was a big part of making it work.”
“Now, boys,” Gus rumbled, “you’re making it soundaheckofaloteasierthanIrememberitbeing. Your disagreements got pretty loud sometimes. I threw both of you out on your ears and rears more than once.”
