Pirate's Gold Read Free

as he entered the room. Ryan was seated in a high-backed chair near the desk.
    â€œNo problem.” Ryan was a man of about thirty; slim, with receding black hair and a keen mind. He stood and accepted Kyle’s handshake, noticing Kyle’s uneasy smile. It was the same restless smile that had accompanied large deep-set brooding gray eyes and graced the jackets of several country albums ten years earlier. Kyle Sterling’s music hadn’t been hurt by the fact that the man was ruggedly handsome. Ryan Woods doubted that the platinum albums adorning the walls of the den would be there today if Kyle Sterling hadn’t been so damnably earthy and sensual. Sterling’s voice had been classified as mediocre and his ballads were too complex for most of his audience, but Kyle Sterling was a shrewd man who had used his striking looks to his advantage. He had turned his songs into money that he had invested in an ailing recording company. Within five years, Sterling Records had become one of the most prominent recording companies in the country.
    Kyle poured himself a drink, offered Ryan another and took a seat near his guest. His eyes seemed haunted. Something was eating at Kyle Sterling and Ryan suspected that it was more than the pressures of running the company. He kept his suspicions to himself. If Kyle wanted to talk about his personal problems, the man would have to initiate the conversation himself. If not, so be it. Ryan Woods hadn’t earned his reputation as a crackerjack troubleshooter by sticking his nose where it didn’t belong…. unless he was paid for it.
    Kyle took an experimental sip of his drink, rested his head on the back of the chair and came straight to the point. “I assume that you’ve come here with some sort of proposal.”
    Woods inclined his balding head and nodded. “Finally.”
    â€œGood! I owe you for this one, Ryan. I just haven’t had the time to put all the information together. This is a major decision.”
    â€œThat’s what you pay me for.”
    Kyle mutely agreed. “Let me guess what you found out: You think I should handle all the videos at the studio—produce them at Sterling Records.”
    Ryan shifted uneasily in the chair. He was seated near a large bay window and noticed that dusk was beginning to paint the sky in uneven streaks of magenta and carmine. The warm Pacific sun had settled behind the calm sea and only a few dark sailboats were silhouetted against the horizon. Outside, the view was spectacular. Inside, the wealth of Kyle Sterling surrounded him. It was evident in the thick weave of the imported carpet, the immaculate shine on the tiled floor, the expensive grain of the modern furniture and the original surreal paintings on the thick plaster walls. But with all his fortune, still Kyle Sterling seemed…disenchanted.
    Ryan snapped open his briefcase after finishing his drink and declining another. He pulled out a sheaf of neatly typed papers and handed them to Sterling. “You’re not going to like what I found,” he warned.
    â€œLet me be the judge of that. The way we’ve been handling production of videos has been a thorn in my side for the last two years. We need more control.” He studied the pages thoughtfully. Ryan Woods had done his homework and proved in dollars and cents exactly why in-house production was imperative.
    He leaned back in his chair and pushed the reports onto his desk. “All right, you’ve convinced me. We’ll hire a crew, the best we can find, and give them a suite of offices on the third floor.” He noticed the look of hesitancy in Ryan’s eyes. “Is there a problem with that?”
    Ryan shook his head. “Not really. I suppose it will make things easier—for everyone.”
    â€œWhat are you getting at?”
    Ryan reluctantly handed Kyle one final report. “You asked me to check into the pirating problem we had a few months