get me wrong, Alec is a smart businessman, but as a mother, I always thought Best For Baby was about more than the bottom line.”
Within hours of appearing online, the story was picked up by a couple of high-profile bloggers. Mothers everywhere were appalled, outraged. It was shared on Facebook, tweeted about on Twitter and went viral.
Now, one week later, Alec was in the elevator at the Best For Babies headquarters in Chicago, summoned to the top floor of the thirty-story building on the banks of the Chicago River for a special meeting of the board of directors of the publicly traded company.
Deep doo-doo, indeed.
If he hadn’t been apprehensive already, he would have been upon entering the conference room. A dozen, dour-faced board members were seated around the large oval of polished cherry wood. They included Herman Geller, the chairman, who steepled his fingers in front of him the way a head schoolmaster might as he waited for Alec to take a seat.
“Thank you for clearing your schedule to accommodate this special meeting today, Alec,” Herman began. “We know you’re a busy man, especially right now.”
Alec nodded, worked up a smiled, and then, since he believed the best defense was a good offense, he launched the first volley.
“And my thanks to all of you for your time. I want to apologize again for my...verbal blunder. I understand fully the seriousness of the situation it has caused the company, and I want to assure each of you that it is being dealt with. I have our marketing department working overtime to reach out to our customers and reassure them that Best For Baby is not a hard-hearted company that is solely profit-driven. We’re calling the campaign ‘One Big Family’ and focusing on how the Best For Baby family is with our customers’ families every step of the way.”
“Yes, I received your memorandum on that a couple of days ago. I especially like the idea of including photographs of our workers’ children.” But the older man didn’t appear satisfied. He tugged at one unruly eyebrow before saying, “At this point, Alec, it’s not only the consumer who needs to be reassured. Our investors do, too.”
Alec nodded and reached for the glass of ice water that was already poured and waiting on the table in front of him. His throat felt parched. It remained that way even after he took a sip.
“Like all of you, I am very disappointed with the drop in our stock’s value.” Some media outlets were using words such as tanking and free-fall to describe the double-digit plummet the stock had taken in a matter of days. “I’ve drafted a letter to shareholders that should allay their concerns.” He swiped a finger over the condensation forming on the outside of the glass. Forget parched. His throat felt scorched now as he pushed out the rest of the words. “In addition to my personal apology, I am willing to tender my resignation if our stock has not rebounded within the next three months.”
“That’s commendable, Alec,” Herman replied. “Let’s hope it won’t come to that. We would hate to lose someone of your caliber over a publicity debacle such as this.”
Reading between the lines, Alec knew they would, though. They would shake him off even sooner if need be. Still, it appeared that his employment wasn’t on the agenda of today’s meeting. Alec was just starting to relax when the older man said, “That’s why, in a special meeting of the board yesterday, it was decided that we would bring in a consultant to help us with damage control.”
The board had convened two special meetings in as many days? And the first one had been conducted without his knowledge. That didn’t bode well.
“A consultant?” he asked, embarrassed to hear his voice crack.
“Yes. She comes highly recommended and is eager to get started.”
Alec blinked at that. “You’ve already been in contact with her?”
Which meant today’s special meeting wasn’t to ask his opinion, but to render the board’s verdict. He didn’t like being left out of the loop.
“Under the circumstances, we thought it best to act quickly. Our stockholders are demanding action.”
Dexter Roth from marketing was going to be irked, Alec thought. Same for Franklin Kirby, their advertising representative. Alec had asked the two men to head up the multipronged media blitz set to be unveiled this coming weekend. They were not going to be happy that an outside consultant was being brought in as the point person. Alec said as much now.
“Julia Stillwell will be part of the One Big Family campaign, an integral part,” Herman said. “She’s an image consultant.”
Alec’s brows hiked up. “An image...”
“Consultant,” Herman finished for him. His gaze was unflinching, although no one else around the table would meet Alec’s eye. “For better or worse, you are the face of this company. The public needs to get to know you better. They need to like you, trust you. They need to know that even though you are a bachelor with no children of your own, you aren’t antifamily or antichild.”
“I’m not.”
Just because he wasn’t interested in having a wife and kids didn’t mean he had anything against either marriage or parenthood. Some men were hardwired for the roles of husband and father. Alec—the product of a pair of freewheeling, free-spending parents, who had packed him off to boarding school so they could continue their jet-setting, hard-partying ways—figured he wasn’t. No way would he put another kid through the emotionally sterile childhood he’d endured, spending holidays and summers with nannies and other adults who’d been paid to watch over him.
“Excellent.” Herman glanced at his watch. “Your first meeting with her will be in less than an hour. She has a full schedule today, but has graciously agreed to fit you in.”
“How lucky for me,” he managed to say and forced a smile in case his sarcasm came through.
“You’ll need to go to her office, though. I’ve given your secretary the address. Ms. Stillwell asked that you be on time. She has a pressing appointment immediately after yours.”
“I’d better head out now, then.”
Alec pushed back his chair and rose. Irritation had replaced the apprehension he’d experienced upon entering the room. An image consultant! The idea was galling.
Herman’s parting words of “good luck” did little to improve his mood.
* * *
Julia Stillwell checked her watch against the clock on the wall. Alec McAvoy had one minute and forty-eight seconds to be at her door for their thirty-minute appointment. Punctuality was rule number one in her book. When people were late it said they didn’t think other people’s time was as valuable as their own. It also wreaked havoc on her ridiculously tight personal timetable.
As a single mother with two young children, she knew only too well the importance of staying on schedule. If she was late leaving the office, it meant she would be late picking up her kids from school, which in turn meant Danielle would be late for dance class or Colin for T-ball, or whatever else was on tap for that day. As it was, being a parent made life unpredictable, an adventure. She tried to see that as a plus, but on days such as this, she wasn’t always successful.
She’d been up since 4:00 a.m., jolted from sleep by a put-out Danielle. The nine-year-old had been none too happy to have to share her bed with her six-year-old brother, Colin, who’d climbed in with her after having a bad dream. Julia had checked under his bed and in his closet for the green-goo-oozing monster of his nightmare. Even after giving him the all clear, he’d been unable to fall back to sleep in his own room. So, all three of them had wound up in her full-sized bed, where none had managed another wink.
Julia fought back a yawn now as she glanced at the clock again. Alec McAvoy was officially late. When he arrived, assuming he did before she had to leave, she would offer him a cup of coffee so she could have some herself. One thing she wouldn’t be doing, however, was adding any time onto the end of the appointment to accommodate