Fated Dinner Part 1:

Chapter 7

Part II: Andrew Wright

Chapter 1:

Andrew yawned and stretched his body out as much as he could at the desk. Sadly, the chair he'd bought did little in the way of reclining.

"1,300 dollars and this stupid thing doesn't even recline properly," he said, shaking his head.

Andrew was the CEO of a company called Hart's and Card's. They basically had a hand in every piece of profitable pie that there was from military weapons to oil refineries. Andrew had worked diligently to get where he needed to be in this company. His father, having owned a seat on the board, helped him get his starting position, but from then on it was his own hard work that had lead him slowly up the cooperate chain to division manger to partner and finally to CEO. He was now in his fifties, and had the gray hair to show it. For a few years he'd dyed it back to it's blonde color, but after so long he decided he didn't care so much and liked showing his experience.

It wasn't as if he was really an old man yet, he still had plenty of life left in him and kept himself in good shape too. His position and body lead to more than a couple office flings with a secretary or two. He was always honest with them too. He never threatened to fire them or offer a promotion in exchange for the s*x. He never had to.

Sometimes it ate at him just a little. After all, he had a beautiful wife, Lisa, and son, William, at home waiting for him. Still, what they didn't know couldn't hurt them. Besides, it was Lisa's own fault that he needed to get some action somewhere else. Their marriage had never been the classic fairytale. She was well-off and in a connected family, he was rich and an up-and-comer in the office. They both had something the other wanted and could use their relationship to get where they wanted to be.

Oh sure, the first several years had been hot. They were both in their thirties back then and couldn't keep their hands off of each other. But, the days of passion had slowly turned into years of a stale marriage, where she pretended not to know he slept with women at the office and he pretended she wasn't f*****g the tennis instructor… a true American marriage.

Sighing he packed up this suitcase and double-checked to make sure his keys were still in his left-hand pocket. They were, of course, as he never took them out during the day, but he was a creature of habit.

As he was moving towards the elevator one of the smaller district's managers came running up to him. Andrew cast his mind around for a second, trying to recall the man's name.

"Smith," he said, as much out of recollection as a greeting. "What do you need?"

"Well, Mr. Wright sir," he said, practically wetting himself. "It's about the plant down in Detroit sir. They're demanding a better health care plan."

"Oh," said Wright, feeling a small bit of anger rear up. "They want to make the demands do they? What profit did that plant turn up this past quarter?"

"Only just turned any profit sir, under 100,000 I think."

"Close it," said Andrew firmly.

"Close the plant sir? Sir that's about 60 people on the lines, eight operators and four team leads. Not to mention Johnson running the plant sir."

"Well if they wanted to be able to make demands they should busted ass. Close it."

Smith lowered his head, softly saying, "Yes, sir."

Andrew snorted slightly as he got in the elevator. It was simple business. If you weren't working hard enough to produce a proper profit then you didn't get to have your job. They weren't running a damn charity, this was business and business was cold, always.