Page 84 of Tail, Dark and Handsome: Celestial Mates
The door nearly caught his tail, but he refused to linger a moment longer. Within moments, he found himself in the lobby, a cold space meant to impress. He wanted to find his mate and wanted to be away from this blasted place.
Expensive gray stone marbled with silver and white lined the floors and walls, polished to a mirror finish. Every sound echoed, creating a cacophony to intimidate a person into silence. Lights hung from the ceiling in clusters meant to be reminiscent of stars. Not a single leaf of greenery or soft fabric interrupted the endless reverberation.
This building was a tomb. If the accounts had told him that Chase spent all the investors’ money on only the decor, he’d believe it.
The accounts told Winter many illuminating facts, and what he learned unsettled him.
Winter loathed the new facility. His father had broken ground on the project shortly before his death and Chase oversaw its completion. Winter wondered how far Chase strayed from the original plans or if this cold, empty display of affluence was his father’s intention.
Meetings were pointless and frustrating. He did not understand how so many intelligent people when gathered into one room suddenly became a collective of babbling fools, all repeating the same bad ideas incessantly, like repetition was innovation.
He looked at the company’s slogan chiseled into the stone in the lobby. Inset lights illuminated the words.
Innovation our design. The stars our destination.
Only CayneTech had generated no significant innovations, despite the prototypes Winter produced.
“Sir, sir. Mr. Cayne,” an eager voice called from behind, footsteps clattering on the floor.
“Peaceable,” he said, as the young engineer skidded to a stop. A tablet computer fell out of her satchel and hit the floor. Winter bent to retrieve the device. The rubberized casing told Winter that the tablet experienced the pull of gravity often enough.
“Thank you, sir. I wanted you to know that I agree. About a recall.” A lock of hair fell forward. Peaceable pushed it back, her ears twitching as if she were nervous.
Winter could not imagine why. The female’s presentation had shown promise and the closest thing to innovation in that meeting. Light transport vehicles were not new, but Peaceable made a single person vehicle that collapsed for easy storage. The managers had immediately dismissed the project as unrealistic and too expensive. The people who bought CayneTech ships did not care about conserving space. They did not want economical vehicles. They wanted comfort.
Winter wondered how long he would have to wait until Chase presented a variation on the light transport.
“Who is your team coordinator?” he asked.
“Vela,” Peaceable answered.
Winter nodded. Vela was a reliable male, less prone to appeasing Chase than the other managers. “Get me hard figures on how much a recall will cost.”
“For the stabilizers or,” she paused, tail twitching nervously, “or, um, all the problems?”
“Stabilizers first, then the others.” Sales were not just bad; they were abysmal. Dissatisfaction with the last-generation ship caused a great number of loyal customers to replace their CayneTech ships.
When Winter broached the subject in the meeting, Chase dismissed the notion. Customers were upset now, but they would return for the next new model with the latest entertainment system and all the accoutrements.
Winter argued that their product served a niche market, those seeking luxury and worry-free travel. They could not afford to deliver a subpar product. The accountants helped him see that the company was surviving because of the lack of competition at this end of the galaxy. If they kept producing lackluster ships, Bando or another hungry company would fill that niche.
The company was not in trouble yet, but they were heading into dark space and needed a plan.
Winter’s plan involved recalling the defective ships, repairing them or replacing outright, depending on the issue. It would be expensive—how much, Peaceable would determine—but it would repair the company’s reputation.
Chase said no, based on the cost. All the managers in the room agreed, nodding along like their holiday bonuses relied on how much they licked Chase’s tail.
He shivered at the image. Shortsighted fools, only seeing today’s profit and ignoring the long-term.
Peaceable made notes on her tablet, watching Winter.
He was tired. He wanted to be done with this place, to walk away and let Chase run it to ruin, but the company his father built was Zero’s legacy. Obligation kept him in place and required that he fight for the company’s survival.
Peaceable still waited.
“Oh, for stars’ sake, that’s all. Go away,” he snapped. The engineer squeaked, dropping the tablet again. Winter watched the female retreat, deciding he liked her.
Now to find his mate.
