Sweet Fortune

everything and that he was satisfied and she should be too.” Hatch's hand closed over her thigh, clenching gently.
    “David certainly seems to be getting along much better with Dad these days.” Jessie's legs shifted restlessly on the sheet.
    “Ummm.” Hatch was kissing her throat now.
    “Did I tell you what Dad said to me at the reception?”
    “No.”
    “He said it was time I stopped fooling around working for other people.” Jessie inhaled sharply as Hatch's fingers moved to her inner thigh. “He said I was never going to be happy unless I was my own boss. Said I was a lot like him in that respect.”
    “Yeah?”
    “Hatch, you're not listening. It's my future I'm trying to discuss here. I've been doing some thinking, and I've got an idea for starting up my own business.”
    “I'm your future,” Hatch informed her, unabashed at his own arrogance. He lowered himself along the length of her, eyes gleaming in the morning light. “And you're mine. Any further discussion on the subject is hereby tabled until later. There is another matter on the agenda that needs to be taken care of first. Priorities, Mrs. Hatchard. Always remember, one must stick to priorities.”
    She looked up at him through her lashes and wrapped her arms around his neck. “God, I love it when you play chief executive officer.”

    Three months later Hatch looked up from a financial summary as Vincent Benedict stormed into his office and tossed a file onto the desk.
    “Have you seen those contract terms? Personnel just sent them up for review. They're outrageous. Absolutely outrageous. Dammit, Hatch, what the hell are you going to do about her? She's gone berserk.”
    “I assume we are discussing Jessie?” Hatch opened the file and glanced at the proposed contract from a temporary employment agency called Intuitive Services. The owner and sole proprietor of the firm was one Jessie Benedict Hatchard. The company slogan was spelled out on the letterhead: “We Anticipate Your Short-Term Personnel Requirements.”
    “Damn right we're discussing Jessie.”
    Hatch glanced at the terms of the contract and scowled. Jessie was asking for a year-long contract to supply software design services to Benedict Fasteners. She was featuring two exceptionally talented programmers and designers named Alex Robin and Susan Attwood. “You're right. She's asking too much. Tell personnel to keep negotiating.”
    “Won't do any good,” Vincent said, looking glum. “They tell me this is her final offer.”
    “Then tell them to call off the deal.”
    Vincent looked shocked. “But this is Jessie's first big contract. I want her to have it.”
    “If she's going to run her own business, she's going to have to learn to be more competitive when she goes after a contract.”
    “Dammit, man, this is Jessie . Your wife. My daughter. Don't you want her to make this temporary-employment-agency thing work? It's ideal for her. The first decent career move she's ever made. Hell, no one knows more about short-term employment than Jessie.”
    “I agree.” Hatch leaned back in his chair and eyed Vincent with amusement. “And I don't doubt for one minute that she'll make the business fly. She's got a lot of you in her.”
    “Don't you think we ought to give her the contract? We need a couple of good computer jockeys on board to design those new financial programs. You said so yourself.”
    “I know. But if we let her lock us into these terms, we'll never be able to get out of them. Tell personnel to try again, and if they can't get her to lower the cost, tell them to kill the deal. She'll learn fast.”
    Vincent heaved a sigh. “You're probably right.”
    Hatch grinned. “You know I'm right. Hey, this was all your idea, remember? Don't worry. It'll work out.”
    “I hope so. I want to see her make a go of this agency of hers.” Vincent narrowed his eyes shrewdly. “Don't suppose you could, uh, sort of talk to her tonight?”
    Hatch laughed and shook his head. “Impossible. Jessie has this strict rule, you see. No business after I get home from work.” He glanced at the clock. “And speaking of home, it looks like it's about time to call it a day.”
    Vincent frowned. “It's only five-thirty.”
    “I know.” Hatch stood up and put on the jacket of his conservative pin-striped suit. “I've got to get moving. Jessie and I are involved in a major project and I don't want to be late.”
    “What major project?”
    “Planning the baby's bedroom.”