Breath of Scandal(51)

"Maybe jumping the chain of command is warranted," Debra said. "You can't be effective if you're constantly quarreling with a man who's obviously jealous of you." "Jealous?"

Haskell and his wife had come to dinner one evening at Debra's invitation, so she had had a chance to observe him. "Dillon, be realistic. You're everything he would love to be. You're handsome; he's not. You're tall and strong and manly, and he's a pale, puny weakling. Despite the language barriers, you get along well with the men, but they ridicule him. Didn't you tell me that they call him the French equivalent of '*'? I don't even think his wife likes him."

He made a moue of grudging assent. "You may be tight, but there's a big difference between determining the problem solving it."

and "Call Pilot. Lay it on the line."

"Issue an ultimatum-Haskell or me?" He shook his head. "I'm not ready to chance that. Haskell's been with the company longer and Pilot puts a lot of stock in seniority. If he chose Haskell, I wouldn't get to finish my building.



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Breath of Scandal



143



Besides needing the job, I want to see my building finished for my own satisfaction."

Dillon lost two ironworkers the following week. He blew his top when Haskell refused to give him a budget with which to bargain

"'Mey're only trying to manipulate you."

,,Go to hell." Dillon left quickly, so that he wouldn't slam his fist into Haskell's parsimonious puss. He decided he had no choice but to call Pilot.

Wt pleased. 111 certainly didn't think I'd have Pilot was



to worry about personality conflicts from two so-called professionals. "

"I'm sorry I have to bother you with this, but if Haskell und the company purse, I'm going keeps his fist closed M .I'll be forced to hire second-rate to lose qualified builders ts that, do we, workers, and I don't think either of us wain



Mr. Pilot?"

static crackled through the long-distance connection during the ensuing silence. At last Pilot said, "Tell him that I personally authorized a ten-cent-an-hour raise across the board."

"Fifteen?" "Twelve, and that's it, Burke. Don't involve me in these squabbles again. I put you in charge of this Project, so take charge . " ank



pilot hung up before Dillon had a chance to say th you. He reasoned it was a good thing. Otherwise, it might look like pilot was playing favorites instead of exercising sound business sense-

Haskell Scanlan didn't see it that way. "Did you go crying to Daddy?" he asked snidely when Dillon informed him of the conversation with Pilot.

"I told him what I thought was in the best interest of this ect



p roi 'Pilot looks at you "Oh, sure," Haskell replied cattily.

and sees a younger reflection of himself. Beneath the gilt as you. He prides of his success, he's as brash and uncouth



himself on being a self-made man- So don't make the MIS-

take of believing that you won this quarrel on your own merit. You only won because You're the boss's ego trip.,,

Since he had ultimately won, Dillon didn't concern himself with Haskell's opinion. Beyond a few days of cold, miserable rain, things at the construction site ran smoothly through the autumn months. Dillon lost no more workers, because they knew he was responsible for their raise.

The workers seemed to appreciate his talent for remembering their names, his ability to tell a dirty joke like one of the boys, and his sense of knowing when to interfere in private disputes and when not to. He asked nothing of them that he didn't require of himself. He took risks, stayed overtime, ate a packed lunch alongside them, and earned their respect for mixing with them instead of setting himself apart-

Dillon prefered to know his building intimately-every rivet, every cable, every brick-rather than seal himself off in his trailer. He inspected every phase of the construction. His high standards caused his next altercation with Haskell Scanlan.

"What the hell is this?" Dillon was holding a strip of electrical conduit in his gloved hands. The unfortunate electrician whom Dillon had randomly selected to question glanced warily around the circle of onlookers and, seeing no one willing to leap to his rescue, began explaining in rapid French.

Dillon didn't understand a word of it. He shook the strip of wiring at the man's face. "This isn't what I ordered. Where'd you get it?"

One of the electricians spoke a smattering of English. He tapped Dillon's arm. Dillon angrily spun around. "What?" The man pointed toward the stacked spools of wiring. After a brief inspection, Dillon addressed the men now standing idle. "Don't install any more of this shit. Got that?" The man who had been serving as interpreter conveyed the message to the others.

Lifting one of the heavy spools onto his shoulder, Dillon used the service elevator to get to the ground floor, then



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barged through the door of the trailer. Haskell, seated at his computer terminal, jumped reflexively at the sudden interruption. When he saw Dillon, he frowned in disapproval of his barbaric behavior.