Karen Mathers had a big smile on her face as she drove her new 1966 Corvette into the city of Palm Oaks, located on Florida's east coast. She drove her sports car under the portico of the best hotel in the area, stepped out and watched as the bellhop loaded the suitcases from her convertible onto the luggage cart. Once he had her suitcases, she turned her keys over to the valet and followed the bellhop into the hotel.
She had been in the second class which had allowed females to pursue an MBA from Harvard. The effect a Harvard education had on most people made her smile.
Armed with her MBA and a conviction she was smarter than anyone else in the room, Karen had persuaded her grandfather to appoint her to lead the team responsible for a housing development his company had undertaken in Palm Oaks.
Stage One would see 124 homes constructed on a portion of the two hundred acre tract Karen's grandfather, Timothy Morton, owned through a holding company. Once the first phase was completed satisfactorily, Karen was certain she would be given total responsibility and control over the ensuing phases.
The plans were in place, all the necessary permits had been obtained and the property had recently been cleared. Construction was scheduled to begin and Karen was champing at the bit.
She was quite pleased her grandfather had accepted her suggestion to limit any one contractor to a maximum of twelve homes during the first phase. This strategy would keep builders from spreading their crews too thin, with the added benefit of competition among the builders. Bonuses would be offered to companies which met, or beat, deadlines. Those failing to meet deadlines would face costly penalties. The company also would have a better handle on which contractors to hire for the next phase.
The builders, who had already been given contracts by her grandfather's representatives, were scheduled to join her in a meeting room at the hotel Friday afternoon. The actual construction was to begin first thing Monday morning. It was Thursday and Karen decided to rest after the long drive down from her parent's home in New Jersey. She wanted to be fresh and alert for the next afternoon's meeting.
Karen spent Friday morning preparing her notes, making certain she was completely prepared for every eventuality. She felt it was important to demonstrate to the builders that she was a savvy business woman who had earned her position. She decided to omit telling anyone about it being her grandfather's development company. It had no bearing on the situation.
"Good afternoon, Gentlemen," was Karen's opening. She had earlier determined there were no other women present. "We're going to go over the expectations Morton Homes has for this project, its contractors and their crews.
"Quality is our primary concern. We expect all builders to adhere to the blueprint plans. There will be no short cuts taken on this project. Safety of the crews is also a priority. Builders are expected to follow the highest industry standards.
"All of that said, your contracts state there will be bonuses awarded for meeting certain deadlines and penalties extracted for failure to meet those same deadlines. I'm going to explain them carefully so there will be no misunderstandings. I will then listen to questions and concerns."
While speaking, Karen's eyes went from builder to builder as she had been taught in public speaking class. It was important to keep everyone's attention. Many of the builders had an assistant or two attending with them. Karen made an effort to include them in her presentation.
When her gaze reached the left side of the room, she realized a young man seated next to the wall was not looking at her face. He was intently studying her legs. She briefly wondered if wearing a short skirt had been a mistake.
Karen glared toward the man, but he never noticed as his eyes remained glued to her lower extremities. Giving up, Karen once again moved her eyes across the room.
Once her presentation was completed, she opened the floor to discussion. Several men immediately blurted out questions and concerns. Karen began pointing to men for their questions so she could systematically respond. She thought she had handled things well and was ready to draw the meeting to a close when the man who had been studying her legs spoke.
"What sort of quality control are you going to have on this project?"
"We'll have people checking on everyone's work as it progresses to make certain the plans are followed precisely. It's quite simple. If the details are adhered to, the finished product has to be of highest quality," reasoned Karen, noting the man now seemed fascinated with her breasts.
"So you won't have inspections at every stage of construction? You'll expect everyone to simply "follow the plans" and things will be fine? How many nails will there be in each shingle? How many coats of paint will there be on the interior walls? Who makes certain the foundations are square and level? Will you allow your builders carte blanche in these matters, as well as many more I haven't mentioned?"
"I would expect every builder to adhere to industry standards on matters not covered in the plans," stated Karen with more confidence than she felt. "All of the builders we've hired are respected professionals, and as such, can be depended upon to do things properly wherever the plans may be vague. If it makes you feel better, I'll ask our designers to include more details and get everyone slightly revised plans. Proceed as planned on Monday and I'll see that you all receive answers to these questions."
The builders began filing out, but the older man who had accompanied the man who had stared at her legs and chest remained behind. It was obvious to Karen he wanted to speak with.
"I hope Jess didn't come across as a jerk, Ms. Mathers. He's just a perfectionist. He takes tremendous pride in his work. I'm Stan Crane, by the way."
"I can appreciate his concerns, Mr. Crane, but I'll expect you to come to me with any issues your company may have. I'm going to be very busy with this project. I can't waste time with members of your crew. You'll be my only contact point with your company," explained Karen with more patience than she felt.
"What's the name of your company? I want to connect all the faces with the company they run. I should have asked everyone to introduce themselves at the meeting," admitted Karen.
"Ma'am, I'm not the owner of the company. We're Brooks Enterprises and Jess Brooks is the owner. I'm his foreman," revealed Stan Crane.
"The man who asked about nailing shingles and the other stuff? He's the owner? Is he a trust fund baby or something? He looks kind of young," suggested Karen as she checked her list. "It looks like he was the highest bidder to secure a contract. I wonder how he made it through the bidding process. He's almost 20 % higher than Smithtown Homes and they're the top home builder in Florida."
"Jess built his company from scratch. He's worked 70 and 80 hour weeks for years. Now that he's just turned 29, he's beginning to back off on his hours."
"Maybe he should get out more," replied Karen. "He was staring at me while I was speaking. He was quite obvious about it."
"He gets out quite a bit," chuckled Stan. "You must have impressed him. He's not usually like that."
Sunday afternoon found Karen at the beach enjoying the sand and surf for which Florida was famous. She had been sitting under a beach umbrella watching beachgoers when she saw the guy, Jess Brooks, who had asked about the damn shingles at the meeting.
He was walking the beach with a beautiful woman and two young girls. The woman was laughing as the man appeared to tease the girls. Although the woman was undeniably beautiful, she appeared to be in her mid-thirties, a handful of years older than Brooks. For some reason, seeing him with the beautiful woman and the two pretty young girls put a damper on her enjoyment of the day.
