Management Skills Read Free Page A

space. After all these years, he still felt a little thrill of pride in SSG. He’d proven himself. He wasn’t just some rich dude with a hobby. He was some rich dude with a highly regarded theater tech company. And he’d enjoyed every minute building it. He now had eighty-six employees. Management was fun. It was all about providing resources. He nudged and nurtured and then watched his people soar.
    The future of SSG was golden.
    He returned to study his laptop. The numbers on the screen didn’t jive with the hardcopy estimate. He grunted. He’d have to corner somebody in accounting. But not until Monday morning. His people did not work late on a Friday night. SSG employees were out having fun, or cuddling up with their loved ones, or maybe sleeping. He leaned back in his zero-gravity chair, casual in his running shorts, perfectly satisfied with his own Friday-night routine—a long workout at the gym, a shower and back to the office for some solo thinking time.
    He was rarely lonely. His work satisfied him. His brothers and sister were concerned with his solitary bachelor life and constantly tried to set him up with some friend of a friend. With seven siblings, he endured a lot of urging and cajoling. He always declined the blind dates. He could find his own woman. Once in a while he’d go out on a date. The encounters were pleasant and diverting, and occasionally sexual. But long term? No. He was looking for a less conventional relationship. He sought a deeper, more profound connection, one involving power exchange.
    His laptop pinged gently. Another email. He got hundreds a day. He rarely read them. Georgia, his assistant, did that, vetting the correspondence, forwarding mail to the correct parties, sometimes answering for him. After Georgia’s sorting, he only had to respond to about three per day. It saved a lot of time.
    The new email was from Allie Fairfax. Ah, yes, the spectacular Allie Fairfax, SSG’s newest production manager. She impressed everybody she came in contact with. Her first client, a country band headlining in Vegas, couldn’t be happier with her lighting design work. The only person upset with Allie’s performance was Ray—her old boss. He hated losing her and gave Goldberg infinite crap for stealing her away. Ray pretended to be cranky and resentful. In reality he was proud.
    Allie was turning into a great asset to the company. And she was a beauty. Soft white-blond hair, earnest gray eyes, graceful movements enhancing a voluptuous figure. She was Silver all right. Her startled, nearly fearful reaction to being confronted with that name confirmed it.
    The way her breath had hitched when he shook her hand brought his cock to life. He’d enjoy a little handshake with her again.
    Instead he opened her email. It was a thank you note. She was thrilled to have been encouraged to attend the Live Design trade show. She briefly described some of the new technologies she’d seen. He was charmed by her enthusiasm and by the way she thanked him for something that benefited SSG.
    Had she sent the email from home or from the office? He got up and walked down the hall to find out.
    The door to her office was open. Her light was on. He peeked in. The lovely Allie Fairfax was working at her big maple desk. She wore a body-hiding linen suit. Hunched over her laptop, she sat on a metal folding chair. Her fancy zero-gravity executive chair was shoved into a corner.
    He knocked on the doorframe.
    With a little gasp, her head jerked up. “Sir.”
    He loved the sound of her calling him Sir. It gave him some wicked, wicked ideas.
    “I didn’t mean to startle you, Allie. I just got your email about the ET Trade show. I was wondering if you had a chance to see the new PRG media servers.”
    Her eyes struggled to stay focused on his face and not veer down his bare chest—and lower. Her posture tense, she bit her lower lip. He relished her nervousness. Nervousness meant she was sensitive and aware, delightful