Chapter 13

Jed and Edythe went back to his apartment, after he had picked up some books and records from the office.

"What are you going to do with those, Jed?" Edythe asked curiously, in the car.

"I have to figure out some way to lick Russell. I can't take this lying down. I've worked for years to build up the company and he isn't going to take over without a big bloody fight from me," said Jed grimly. "But what can you do?"

"That inventory business is one angle. I'll have to see my lawyer and find out if it's criminal to switch inventory items from one company's warehouse to another, even if a person owns stock in both." He sighed and rubbed his forehead as he waited for a light to change.

"I'm sorry, Jed," said Edythe. "I can't help feeling this is all my fault. I shouldn't have become involved with you at all. Now Russell really hates you. And if I were a better businesswoman, I would have known what was going on at the warehouse."

"Don't blame yourself. I don't believe Russell knows about us, how we feel. That could be a weapon. And don't change. I love you the way you are," he told her. He put his hand briefly on her knee. "We'll work it out. Don't fret."

She moved closer to him in the car, and let the length of her leg rest against his. Heat seemed to bubble up between them.

"Maybe we could sell out, and go nway somewhere. Start over," she suggested.

"Maybe. But that's our last move. Well fight first." He grinned down at her. "I've fought Russell before, and won. He fights dirty, but he can be licked."

Up in his apartment, he spread out his books and papers on a card table. Edythe sat on the couch, her feet tucked up, shoes kicked off.

"Tell me what I can do to help," she said.

"In a few minutes." He looked through some records, pondered. The inventory business was a tricky thing. Maybe there was another way to approach this. "Here, honey." He handed Edythe a pad of paper and a pencil. "Do you remember the assets of the company well enough to write them down?"

She gave him an odd, offended look. "Of course," she said, rather coldly. "I do know that much about my work, as president of the company!"

"Sorry. You're so pretty I keep forgetting you're smart, too," he told her, cheerfully.

She stuck out a red tongue at him, then bent over her work.

Jed made a list of his company's assets, then worked out the monetary value of one per cent of the stock. Thorpe now owned 52 per cent, Jed owned 36 per cent, and Mavis still held 12 per cent. But Mavis would sell to Jed, which would give him 48 per cent.

Edythe handed him the pages she had worked out, the assets listed in neat figures. He took it, figured the value of one per cent of their stock.

"Hmm. That's interesting. One per cent of your stock is just a fraction over one per cent of ours," he announced.

She padded over to his chair on stockinged feet, and looked at the figures. "Ah ha" she said. "Westfall is worth a bit more than Crown Company!"

He kissed the tempting cheek so close to his mouth. "Maybe I'll marry you for your money," he teased.

She looked down at him soberly. "Jed, I wish you wouldn't talk about marriage. I am not going to marry you until-"

"It may be the best solution you can get. However-let's talk business. Sit down over there, so I won't be tempted to kiss you. You are a very distracting person," he told her sternly.

She sat down across from him. They discussed profits, inventory, assets tied up in stock, prospective campaigns, possible clients. He found she had a sharp and detailed knowledge of her company, and had new respect for her. She hadn't been able to fight Russell for personal reasons, but aside from that she had done a good job of carrying on her father's business.

When everything was added and balanced, Jed worked on more figures.

"It looks like with everything considered, one per cent of your company is still worth approximately one per cent of ours. So if I sold my stock to Russell, or rather traded it for yours-" He scribbled it out. "Let's see-36 minus 22 equals 14. Plus Mavis' share of 12 per cent. I'd still have a 26 per cent share in Crown and he'd be out of Westfall."

"Would he be willing to trade? He would be out of Westfall, where he still hopes to gain control over me and Larry."

"Maybe not, but it would be a thing to try." Jed took a clean page and listed the figures.

Crown Westfall

Thorpe 52% 22%

Kingsley 36% none

Edythe W. none 56%

Larry W. none 22%

Mavis T. 12% none

100% 100%

"Maybe if I bought out Mavis and gave up all my Crown plus Mavis's stock-let's see-48 per cent-in exchange for Thorpe's 22 per cent in Westfall," he mused.

She was quick to object. "Oh, no, Jed! That's not fair. You would lose too much. I won't let you sacrifice all that."

"I don't know how else to do this, unless we take it to court. And that can be expensive as hell."

"I could trade with Thorpe," she said, then. "Look, Jed. I own 56 per cent, he owns 52 per cent. We could trade. That would be more fair. Then Larry could sell out, and leave him with Westfall."

"And your father would turn over in his grave. No, honey. I don't want to give Russell the game. Let's think it over. There has to be a way to lick him."

He stood up, yawned. Edythe was still brooding over the scattered papers, her chin on her fists, elbows on the table. The lights in the room glowed in her golden hair and made a halo about her lovely face. He was stirred with such love and adoration for her that he could scarcely speak. She was so beautiful, so fine, so intelligent and wonderful in every way. How had he suddenly had the marvelous luck to find her?

"Jed, if-" She looked up to meet his eyes, stammered, fell silent.

"If what?"

"I forgot what I was going to say," she confessed, blushing.

He laughed, came around behind her to kiss her cheek, to put his hands on her breasts. She leaned back against him.

"I love you," he said.

She moved her head negatively. "Love. Love. Talk."

"Want me to say it in bed, another way?" His fingers manipulated her breasts through the silk fabric of her blue dress.

"Not now. I'm hungry," she said frankly. "In fact, I'm starved. I haven't eaten since yesterday noon.

Russell had me too scared to eat."

He didn't have a thing' in his apartment to eat except cheese and crackers. So they decided to go out to a restaurant that was quiet and nearby. There was a fairly good combo playing, and they danced for a while. He held her close, his cheek against her hair, and almost forgot their problems.

If only he could think of something. That rat Thorpe shouldn't be allowed to get away with everything. Plenty of rats did. Jed knew several companies that had been built up over years of time by the devoted attentions of a few men, only to have the companies slide out of their hands into the greedy hands of men more clever and ruthless than their original owners. It made Jed furious to think Thorpe might do the very same thing to him.

Edythe's left hand tightened on his shoulder, and her right thumb rubbed on his thumb. Her body pressed closer to his in their dancing. Jed's attention came back to her, his exciting beautiful enemy. No, no longer his enemy, but his love. His beautiful love, his loving lovely love.

He spoke into her ear. "My dear Miss Westfall, I would like to take you back to my apartment and seduce you. Would you care to come quietly, or must I drag you back screaming?"

"I do hate public scenes," she murmured demurely, her dark eyes sparkling with mischief. "Couldn't we postpone our fight until we can be private about it?"

They left the restaurant and drove back to the apartment. On the way, Edythe teased him by sitting close to him and running her fingers from his knee up to his leg and back again.

"We could crash. You know that," he said, driving into the basement garage.

"Darling, don't you have any control? Are you a slave of your emotions?" Her hand touched him boldly, flashed away again.

"We'll see about that slave bit upstairs," he threatened. "Someone's going to be a slave of emotions, or I've lost my technique."

She laughed softly. "Threats. Big talk. I want action."

He waited till they were upstairs, in his apartment with the door locked. Then he grabbed her and wrestled her over against the wall. He held her arms so she couldn't fight, pushed at her with his body.

"J-Jed!"

"Who's a slave? Who?" He ground his body on her deliberately, and his head nuzzled at her throat, kissing the soft, warm flesh. "Who is?"

"J-Jed! Let me go! I won't be forced!" He got her dress up to her waist, managed to yank down the thin girdle. She really fought him then. He had to hold her with hard force, laughing, teasing, as desire rose up hotly in him.

"Jed, you let me go! Let go!"

"Who's a slave?"

He could feel her weakening as her own desires boiled up. He got his knees against the long, slim legs, forced his way to her. He felt the warm flesh, pressed it hard.

She sighed in her throat, and stopped fighting him. Her head was back, her slim throat arched. He was shaking, wanting her so badly it hurt. He held her against the wall. He was using her, wanting her, loving her, all tenderness in eclipse.

He finished and drew away, still holding her with his body and arms. She was limp, lax. She sighed as he drew back a little and let her breathe.

"Oh-you-devil-"

"Who's a slave?"

"I-guess-I am. Oh, Jed. Take me to bed. I need you."

He took her to bed, and undressed her swiftly. She lay back across the bed, waiting for him, one hand on her full breast, her eyes half-closed. He stripped off his own clothes, went to her. Her arms closed around him convulsively, and her legs moved. They embraced each other for several moments, full of passion.

He rolled slightly with her, holding her tight, moving sideways to increase the pleasure. They circled, swayed, her back arched, her hands gripping. Her eyes were tight shut. Perspiration filmed her flesh and it glowed in the soft light.

He watched her face as ecstasy gripped her. Her lovely body shook with fulfillment. Her face was taut, her lips open. She cried out, "Jed, darling. Jed! Jed!"

His answer shot them both to the peak. They rolled back and forth on the wide bed, arms and legs grasping, slipping, grabbing again. Behind his closed lids he saw sparks and stars and fireworks as he pressed her soft body against his.

While they were recovering, he found himself wondering about this woman. Why did she satisfy him so much, yet intensify his desire again in only a few minutes? He had tired easily of other women. Edythe was different.

He watched her as she sat up, stretched, her full breasts bobbing like ripe apples about to fall into his hands. He reached up lazily, caught one in his palm. She turned easily, sitting cross-legged, bending slightly toward him.

Her position, her long slim legs twined, inspired him. He sat up also, back against the headboard, and drew her to him. She sat with her back cuddled against his chest, and let him embrace her and touch her waist and run his hands over her thighs and legs. He unfastened her hair, that was already half unfastened from their previous bouts, and let it ripple in blonde waves to her shoulders.

Presently he lifted her, placed her carefully. She shifted to a comfortable position, leaning on him, her arms up to clasp around his neck. Her lithe legs increased the pleasure of their contacts. He contented himself with holding a ripe breast in each hand, flattening his hand to press the swollen flesh.

"Jed-darling-" she whispered, her body moving. He held her strongly, delighting in her struggles to fulfillment, and presently they were both riding high on the waves of ecstatic delight.

Sometime that night they slept. He no longer feared losing her, even in his dreams, but he kept an arm around her just in case.

In the early morning he awakened, blinking in the sunlight. Edythe was asleep beside him, her face burrowed into a pillow, her blonde hair mussed. He had awakened slowly. Figures were marching through his brain, not women's figures, not Edythe's beautiful figure, but mathematical figures.

He tried to work out something he had been dreaming. "Fifty-two plus twenty-two equals seventy-four. Divided by two equals thirty-seven. Only 37 per cent for Thorpe. Where's the rest? Jed, Edythe, Larry, Mavis. Everyone else is bought out. But that can't be right. Can it?"

He turned over, tried to go back to sleep. But the figures kept tormenting him. Something was there, something he had missed. Finally he got out of bed, put on a robe, and walked barefoot out to the living room. The papers were still there, scattered over the card table. He searched till he found the one he wanted, the page with the percentages of control in Crown and in Westfall.

He was still sleepy. He yawned, sat down, found a fresh page. In the center he wrote the word "merger." Then he copied the figures from the other page on the right and on the left. In the center he added each person's holdings divided by two. He blinked at the results in growing excitement.

Crown Merger Westfall

Thorpe 52% 37% 22%

Kingsley 36% 18% none

Edythe none 28% 56%

Larry none 11% 22%

Mavis 12% 6% none

100% 100% 100%

Neither Jed nor Edythe alone had more control than Thorpe. But together they could beat him. If Mavis sold her shares to Jed, and Edythe, Larry and Jed voted together, they had Thorpe easily outvoted in a merged company.

He took the paper back to the bedroom, took off his robe and got in beside Edythe. He sat up, beaming at the miraculous little piece of paper. There it was, the miracle Larry had wanted. And Thorpe had handed it to him. Separately, Edythe and Jed could not lick him. Merged, they could. They would use his own merger plan to beat the pants off Thorpe!

Edythe was sleeping soundly, but Jed could not keep the news to himself. He bent over, kissed her bare shoulder.

"Honey?" he whispered. "Honey, lovely Edythe, darling?"

"Hm?" she murmured, turning over. She opened dazed, sleep-washed eyes, blue as the sea. "Jed?"

"Morning, darling."

"Oh-morning? I'd better go."

"No. We have good news to celebrate."

"What?" She sat up, the sheet sliding to her waist. He saluted her beauty with a kiss on the nearest breast. "What news, Jed?" Her hand cupped his head tenderly holding it against her breast.

He told her. She was incredulous at first.

"You don't mean-if we merge we can beat him?"

"If you and Larry work with me on it."

"Oh, Jed. Oh, Jed! And I was so scared!"

"So was I, honey. So was I."

Tears spilled over from her eyes, but he kissed the tears away, and presently they celebrated in a mutually satisfactory way.

Later they planned the campaign, and Jed began putting it in action. He phoned Bess and asked her to call the stockholders for a meeting on Thursday afternoon.

He told Edythe, "That will give us time to warn Mavis and Larry. We must all seem resigned and unhappy that Russell is getting his way. If he suspects we want the merger, he'll call it off and investigate. We'll have to put it through fast before he starts counting."

"Even if he counted it out the way you have, I don't think he'll suspect," Edythe said thoughtfully. "He doesn't know about you and me. He is counting on Larry's and my votes to outvote you. He thinks he has us under his thumb."

"We'll let him keep on thinking so, for the time being," said Jed. "Then-pow-we'll give it to him straight and hard, right on the chin."