Morgan's Chase 1 (Power Play)

MORGAN’S CHASE

  Power Play

  By

  Lucy St. John

  Professionally Edited Second Edition

  ©Copyright 2013 by Lucy St. John

  Chapter 1

  Morgan Chase always suspected that professional success brought with it a certain amount of sexual satisfaction. It had certainly worked for her mega-rich, super-successful ex-husband, Brock Ballentine. She guessed this from the way he puffed on those enormous Cubans with such self-satisfied smugness. Certainly, a man’s cigar was proxy for his penis.

  Now, she knew it for certain.

  There she was, commanding the oak-paneled boardroom of Tech Teachers Ltd., having brought the firm’s breakthrough education project in on time and on budget. Morgan’s entire team gazed up at her with respect and admiration. Her male personal assistant -- a decade younger with the dark features, hair and body of a Greek god -- was by her side, as well. His smoky, brooding eyes were locked on her.

  Even the company’s executive vice president – Morgan’s boss – Hal Linden was rapt by her commanding presentation, the final internal unveiling before her breakthrough project would be unfurled before the Pennsylvania Department of Education.

  There was no doubt. She, Morgan Chase, had reached the pinnacle. The blue-collar born, Wharton-educated daughter of a humble Pittsburgh firefighter was now setting the world ablaze. And it thrilled her, even as she stood at the center of the boardroom and aced her carefully crafted presentation. The hair on the back of her neck prickled. Her sculpted cheeks flushed with just the right amount of pride. And, yes, an electric charge buzzed beneath her Victoria’s Secret thong.

  Morgan Chase was feeling it – that mythic business boner that the Big Boys like her ex-husband and Hal Linden had tried to keep all to themselves. But she had it now. She earned it. And, by damned, she would keep it erect.

  “What we have created, what we will bring to market, ladies and gentlemen, will do nothing less than revolutionize public education,” Morgan Chase annunciated with perfect diction that had long ago been sanitized of her Western Pennsylvanian accent.

  As she spoke, her assistant, Darren Spencer, cycled through the fully animated three-dimensional samples of the digitized teaching tools that would make books, notes, tests and even teachers completely obsolete.

  “In the age of the Internet, the smartphone and the personal computer tablet, where digitized bits command our children’s attention for hours on end, the classroom teacher is as outdated, quaint and financially unwise as 1950s television,” Morgan sang on, her voice a perfect mix of confidence, enthusiasm and competence. “We are harnessing the undisputed hypnotic power of the video game and turning it into an undeniable force of light, knowledge and education. We are making it a teaching tool that won’t be seen as a chore to our children. It will be sought out by them as an immersive, mind-altering, game-changing fountain of knowledge. These tools harness digital technology to conjure first-hand experience and hands-on education that can transport our children to the ends of the earth, the depths of history, the halls of science, and the pantheon of business. Not to instill a mindless mush of facts, dates, places and people, but to engrain, instill and inspire real emotion, experience, experimentation and imagination. And our young people will come to this vast oasis of education, not because a class schedule tells them to, or a bell rings or a teacher stands before them. But because their very neurons and nerve endings will crave it. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you the precious fruits of your long and loyal labors. I give you my dream that each one of you has toiled tirelessly to make a workable reality. I give you Project Renaissance.”

  With that, the video presentation reached a crescendo in which characters from history, science, math, economics and various other disciplines came together as if to underscore the 360-degree education that was now at the click of a mouse or the jerk of a joystick, all courtesy of Project Renaissance and Morgan Chase. As music swelled, the iconic characters surrounded an empty classroom seat. This symbolized the space waiting for each and every school student across Pennsylvania and beyond. All that stood in the way of their access to this limitless knowledge served up in this addictive new way was an unprecedented $890 million upfront commitment by state education secretary David Dillon. Morgan would be meeting with Dillon in just two days to tie up this remaining detail. With her team breaking into spontaneous applause, Morgan had no doubt that she would secure the contract, instantly legitimizing Project Renaissance as a nationwide teaching tool capable of nothing less than revolutionizing public education, as we knew it.

  Right on cue, the swelling music ended, the boardroom lights came up and the entire boardroom stood and continued its admiring applause. All eyes were locked on Morgan. She had done it. And everyone in that room knew it.

  “Thank you,” she said, shouting over her team’s enthusiastic applause. “But you’re applauding yourselves. You, each of you, did this. You took a pipedream and turned it into reality. And by the end of the week, we will take the product that each one of you created and turn it into a multi-billion-dollar licensed property that will be sought after by each and every school district in this country. So I salute you. All of you.”

  “I second that,” executive vice president Hal Linden echoed in his rich baritone.

  Morgan was both surprised and appreciative that Linden, who headed the company’s heretofore-stodgy education and textbook division, had permitted her to get through her entire presentation without so much as a peep. Perhaps, this was because Linden knew he had bucked against the project from the start. And now that it would mint the company as a national player, he soon would be deferring to Morgan, rather than directing her. After bringing in Project Renaissance, Morgan was in line to head up her own division – Interactive Education Technologies. It would be spun off from Linden’s Education Division. And with Morgan installed as its executive vice president, she would control the company’s biggest revenue-generating sector. And then Linden would be lucky to be Morgan’s co-equal, let alone her boss.

  “What a fantastic job. All of you,” Linden continued. The one-time college quarterback’s handsome face was relaxed into his most gracious grin. “All of you taught this old textbook salesman a thing or two about the future of education, I must say. But none more so than Morgan, here.”

  Linden turned and looked admiringly at Morgan.

  “You did it,” he said, dipping his head in a show of deference. “You had the vision – one I admit I did not see – and you executed it. It’s the greatest display of product innovation, team-building and institutional transformation that I’ve ever had the pleasure of witnessing in the corporate world. You should be proud. And you will be rewarded. All of you will, but none more so than your leader, mentor and friend, Morgan Chase.”

  With that, the applause swelled again, and Linden leaned over and hugged Morgan, then planted a fatherly kiss on her reddened cheek.

  She didn’t expect this. To be sure, she had long fantasized of the flirty, dismissive Hal Linden kissing up to her one day. But the sharp break and sudden reversal of their roles was too abrupt, even for her.

  “Thank you, Hal,” she said, somewhat embarrassed and, yes, even feeling a bit sorry for old, gimpy Linden. After all, he had always been a straight shooter with her. He was upfront about his skepticism. Yet, he had never tried to sabotage her project -- or her authority. And now that the tables had turned, he would not stand in the way of her rightful ascendancy in the company.

  “All right, everyone,” Morgan announced, trying to regain a measure of control over the situation. “We don’t have that contract signed yet. I want each of you to write a one-page review of the presentatio
n so I can tweak it for the secretary. We meet in two days. This was our pat on the back, but that meeting is our defining moment. It’s when Project Renaissance becomes the new reality of public education. So let’s go people.”

  Morgan would not have to speak twice. Her team knew and respected her boundaries. They began packing up their laptops and iPads, each of them pausing to shake Morgan’s hand or hug her on the way out of the boardroom. In a matter of minutes, the only people remaining in the room were Morgan, her assistant Darren and Hal Linden, who had crashed back into his swivel chair. His audience gone, Linden’s grin had wilted to a frown, and he appeared decidedly less powerful slumped in his chair.

  “How do you think it went?” Morgan asked Darren.

  The twenty-something’s piercing eyes shone brightly under his dark brows.

  “Fantastic,” he gushed. “You’ll have Secretary Dillon eating out of the palm of your hand.”

  “As long as his hand is curled around a pen that scribbles his signature on a state contract -- that’s all I care about,” Morgan shot back. “I know you’re going to kill me, but I’ll need you to collate all the staff reviews to determine if there are any common themes that might prompt us to rethink portions of the presentation.”

  Darren bobbed his chin up and down in the affirmative as he scrawled Morgan’s instructions on paper.

  “Not a problem. I’m on it. Anything else?”

  “I’d probably feel better if we went through it a couple more times. How’s first thing tomorrow?”

  “Perfect,” Darren chirped.

  “You’re the best,” she said, and then turned to Linden.

  “Any feedback, Hal?” Morgan asked.

  The vice president frowned.

  “I think you nailed it,” he said, matter of factly. “With that product, a monkey could close the deal.”

  “Gee, thanks,” Morgan said uncertainly, her face twisted into a puzzled expression.

  “You know what I mean,” he said, waving his hand. “You did a great job. But it’s product that will make the sale. That’s what an old textbook salesman once said to me – let the product close the deal.”

  Morgan nodded. “My plan exactly.”

  “Good,” Linden brightened. “Can I borrow you for a second?”

  “Sure,” she said.

  “In private,” Linden elaborated, shooting a look at Darren, still right by his boss’s side, as always.

  Yet, Darren didn’t so much as move, even though the executive vice president had just dismissed him. Instead, his eyes went to Morgan. She absolutely loved his loyalty.

  Finally, she nodded to her handsome, young assistant.

  “Do you need anything else, Ms. Chase?” Darren inquired, as if not having heard Hal Linden at all.

  “It’s fine, Darren. I’ll meet you back in the office,” Morgan said, smiling her appreciation.

  In moments like these, she could imagine herself getting lost in Darren’s deep brown eyes. She was only human, after all. And she was all woman – a woman who had been without a husband for nearly two years and one who had never quiet shaken off her college coed shyness around men, especially handsome men. Sometimes, Morgan, as beautiful and confident as she was now, still saw the pimply, bespectacled freshmen frowning into her dorm room mirror.

  “Absolutely,” Darren replied. “I’ll get right on those staff reviews.”

  Darren’s dexterous hands and long fingers gathered up the laptop, mouse and legal pad, folded them under an arm and glided to the door. Morgan watched him depart with a mix of pride and just the slightest hint of lust. As professional as she was, there was no denying that her sexual juices still stirred at work. Mostly, it was a function of all the time she spent at the office, along with all the attractive people who populated it.

  “Got quite the loyal puppy, there, don’t you?” Hal Linden spoke from his chair, as if reading Morgan’s mind.

  The remark caught her by surprise. She half-jumped, then turned to Linden, attempting to collect herself.

  “He’s competent,” she said. “It’s the main metric I use to evaluate my team.”

  “Of course,” Linden said, leaning forward, a knowing grin on his face. “How many points for his looks?”

  “Hal,” Morgan scolded.

  Linden coughed a laugh.

  “That’s the problem with you female executives,” he chuckled. “No sense of humor about sex. If you were a guy, you’d be calculating your hubba-hubba rating right down to the decimal point as we speak.”

  Morgan frowned at what she knew was the truth. For ages, looks were part of the criteria male executives used to grade their female employees. Why not the other way around?

  “All right,” she said. “He’s a 9.7.”

  “And the deduction?” inquired a playful Linden.

  “If anything, he’s a bit too subservient,” Morgan confided, feeling liberated at her first foray into locker room banter. “I like a little more of a challenge. He could do with a bit of an ego and attitude, as well.”

  “Of course,” Linden agreed. “You were married to the great Brock Ballentine. Talk about an ego.”

  “Too much in the other direction,” Morgan corrected. “Way too much in the other direction.”

  “Now you’re getting it,” Linden cheered. “Once you start being the Alpha, it comes easy, believe me. You’ll even come to appreciate subservience. In fact, your own ego will demand it.”

  Linden let loose a wicked chuckle. This time, Morgan felt cheap. She needed to switch tracks.

  “Well,” she muttered. “Thanks for the lesson.”

  “Anytime. It’s about the only thing I can teach you anymore.”

  “Not at all,” Morgan shot back, perhaps a bit too consoling.

  “I don’t need your pity,” he scoffed. “I’ll be fine. Textbooks still have a long run ahead, despite your new-fangled teaching tools. I’ll miss working with you, though. Once you move out and up to your own division.”

  “Thank you, Hal.” Morgan glowed at Linden’s acknowledgement of her imminent promotion. It made it all the more real. And she couldn’t wait.

  “That’s why I’m requesting the honor of your presence for dinner – 7:30 tonight at Ruth’s Chris. My treat, of course. No office talk, either. Just two old souls chewing over life – and filet mignon.”

  “Sounds wonderful,” Morgan haltingly replied. “But with the presentation coming up...”

  “It’s two days away,” Linden cut her off. “And you already have it down cold. I insist.”

  “Okay.”

  “Don’t sound so thrilled.”

  “I am. Thrilled that is,” she said. “Thanks for the gesture.”

  “Don’t mention it,” Linden said, pushing himself from the chair. “Meet me at the bar. Come hungry – and thirsty. Your move to the Big Boys’ table starts tonight.”

  With that, Hal Linden, all six-foot, three-inches of the old college quarterback, scrambled out of the boardroom.

  Morgan was left alone with her triumph.

  Could it really be true? At long last, had she finally arrived?