Winners Never Lose

By Mike Upton

WINNERS NEVER LOSE is the second book about Mark Watson who once again is ruthlessly wheeling and dealing but this time in the Oil and Pharmaceutical Industries.

Still married to Abi although now with a secret son conceived with his mistress Samantha, he cheats on both women as he embarks on various affairs whilst callously pursuing his business career.

The novel follows his progression through the Oil Industry before he is head hunted into the complex world of Pharmaceuticals, where he employs his usual unforgiving management style to transform a moribund international company into a world class Multi-National by aggressively acquiring many of his competitors.

As the story moves between England, America, Europe, India and finally Australia, Mark Watson uses all of his hard nosed uncompromising approach to people and business to achieve the goals and aims he sets for himself.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse UK
• Release date: Mar 12, 2008
• ISBN: 9781467002066

Mike Upton

MIKE UPTON is a retired businessman who for many years worked extensively in industry as Managing Director or Chief executive running several companies in Britain and America. This, his second novel (like his first AMBITIONS END) is a work of fiction, but it again draws from his extensive knowledge of business and large multi-national corporations and their involvement and approach to selling off parts of their business, or acquiring competitors. Living in Norfolk he has been married to Brenda for 42 years and has tw daughters and one granddaughter.

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AuthorHouse™ UK Ltd.

500 Avebury Boulevard

Central Milton Keynes, MK9 2BE

www.authorhouse.co.uk

Phone: [phone]

This book is a work of fiction. People, places, events, and situations are the product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or historical events, is purely coincidental.

Winners Never Lose is a work of fiction but certain well known companies, hotels and airlines are included as background to add authenticity.

© 2008 Mike Upton. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

First published by AuthorHouse 3/13/2008

ISBN: 978-1-4343-6758-7 (sc)

ISBN: 9781467002066 (ebk)

Printed in the United States of America

Bloomington, Indiana

CONTENTS

WINNERS NEVER LOSE

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 4

CHAPTER 5

CHAPTER 6

CHAPTER 7

CHAPTER 8

CHAPTER 9

CHAPTER 10

CHAPTER 11

CHAPTER 12

CHAPTER 13

CHAPTER 14

CHAPTER 15

CHAPTER 16

CHAPTER 17

CHAPTER 18

CHAPTER 19

CHAPTER 20

CHAPTER 21

CHAPTER 22

CHAPTER 23

CHAPTER 24

CHAPTER 25

AMBITIONS END©

Winners Never Lose is dedicated to several people.

First and most importantly, to my former secretary Sarah for her enthusiasm and encouragement but especially her constant patient help in calmly getting me out of computer muddles when the wretched laptop did something odd. Computers sometimes seem to have a mind of their own but she could always be relied upon to sort out the problem.

Secondly, my daughters Victoria and Catherine and my granddaughter Holly.

Thirdly, once again to my wife Brenda, for her quiet but continuous and ongoing support to me during the process of creating this story.

Also to Charlotte and all the people at AuthorHouse for their wholehearted support and continual assistance in again taking me from manuscript to finished book.

Finally to friends and acquaintances who have continued to encourage me to go on writing and produce this sequel to my first novel - Ambitions End.

To all of them - I say thank you very much.

The process of writing is hard work and challenging but also enormously rewarding. When the novel finally comes together, there is immense satisfaction in eventually finishing writing the story and being able to lean back to type the two final words - The End.

To all my readers, I hope you enjoy Winners Never Lose.

MIKE UPTON

Winning isn’t everything, but losing is nothing.

Red Symons.

CHAPTER 1

Mark Watson pushed open the swing doors of the private hospital and pausing seemed undecided for a moment then strode quickly across the car park his long legs rapidly covering the short distance. His chauffeur Graham was leaning against the car bonnet waiting.

The grim expression on Mark’s face surprised Graham as he had expected to see his boss with a happy and relaxed expression. He shut the door as soon as Mark had slid into the rear leather seat of the Jaguar and quickly got behind the wheel.

‘To the office?’ queried Graham. He’d picked Mark up early from his home in Sussex that morning and instead of going to the office as usual, Mark having made a phone call from the car and announced that Sam had had the baby, demanded to be taken to the private maternity hospital straight away where she was confined.

‘No just drive’.

‘Where do you want me to drive?’

‘I don’t know just fucking drive will you’ snapped Mark.

Graham grunted and leaned forward as if trying to move away from his irritable boss behind.

Mark saw that his driver had also hunched his head into his shoulders. Stretching forward he said softly ‘Sorry’ and as he spoke he put a hand on Graham’s shoulder and squeezed gently and was relieved to see his long serving and wholly trusted driver relax back into his seat.

‘OK boss. Got a lot on your mind I expect. Tell me though will you be going to the office eventually?’

‘Yes’.

‘Right in that case I’ll drive round the M25 then when you want to head for the office we’ll dive into London’.

Mark said nothing just sat thinking deeply. Sam’s words still rang in his ears ‘Darling come and say hello to your son’.

A son. Something that he’d always wanted and now he had one but not from his wife, but his mistress. How the hell was he going to manage to work this out? He stared out the window unseeingly as the car swished along. A son. What would Sam call it ….. him…. he couldn’t think of his son as an it the baby was a living person that he and Sam had created even if as a result of a mistake.

It was bloody careless of Sam to have got pregnant. Muddled up the start and stop dates for the pill after a monthly period she’d said. Shit if only she hadn’t been so stupid then he wouldn’t be facing this dilemma.

How the hell was he going to handle two families? He was happily married to Abi, and they had little Chloe born almost three years ago and there were Abi’s two now grown up daughters from her previous marriage with whom Mark got along well. They were a great family unit. Mark loved Abi, Chloe and the two elder girls Emma and Charlotte, and they loved him.

Now he had this new additional family. Sam and her baby son. Their baby son. God life was going to become complicated. How on earth was he going to cope with and manage two lives? He’d have to tell Abi but when and how? What would he say? ‘Abi darling I’ve got something to tell you. I’ve got a son by another woman’. Or ‘I’ve got a bit of a problem darling I’ve just fathered a son’.

Poor Abi would be devastated. Not just by his betrayal, but also by the fact that she knew he’d wanted a son and she’d borne him a daughter and then as a result of the emergency hysterectomy she’d been unable to have more children so couldn’t give him his son. What would Emma and Charlotte say to him? They had a great relationship now what would become of it?

He and Sam had been so careful to keep their affair, which had gone on for years, secret from everyone. He was certain Abi had no idea that his secretary was also his lover. Hell and what a person Sam was. Stunningly attractive, bright, dynamically efficient at work, and in bed without doubt the most inventive, satisfying, innovative wonderful lover he’d ever known.

Then there was his work. Chief Executive of Wilsons Oil a multinational oil conglomerate competing against the likes of Shell, BP, Esso and the other giants of the industry. It was tough but he’d sorted out their strategy and put them on a profit growth path much as he’d done before with Lovells. How would the shareholders and his Board take to him having cheated on his wife and having an illegitimate son?

Slumping forward he put his head in his hands as he tried to rationalise how to deal with the problem as that is how he saw it.

All through his business life he’d been skilled at analysing problems, dividing them up into their component parts and then solving them.

Sometimes his solutions shocked or stunned his own team, his competitors, his bankers or The City through their audacity or risk, but he’d established a clear and strong reputation as a successful business man who was skilled at solving business problems. Never afraid to challenge norms nevertheless he’d been careful to ensure that his success was well known and he carefully honed his reputation making use of the PR company that he’d originally brought into Lovells and which he now used not only to promote Wilsons Oil business, but also to promote Mark Watson.

This was done carefully and not too overtly but it had been highly effective and he was constantly being featured in newspapers and business magazines, usually in the business sections but also in their General Interest sections. Papers like The Daily Mail and Daily Express had featured him in their Woman sections where he was shown to be a dynamic businessman but who also had a wonderful happy family life with Abi, little Chloe and the two older girls.

Fuck he thought what a feature he’d now make. He could envisage the headlines BUSINESSMAN’S SECRET LOVE CHILD or OIL MAN’S SLIPPERY SECRET.

He was jerked out of these musings by the car phone ringing. ‘Yes?’

‘Mr. Watson its Gloria. I just wondered if everything was alright as you’re not in yet and you have a busy morning of meetings’.

Gloria was his replacement secretary that Sam in her eight month of pregnancy had recruited as her successor whom she had described as efficient old but ugly and Gloria was all of those, especially the last.

‘Good morning Gloria. I’ve been to see Sam in hospital. She’s had the baby. I’ll be late this morning. Can you shuffle things round. I should be in by about ten’.

‘Well really this is most inconvenient at such short notice’.

‘Yes sorry but just do it will you. Thanks’ and he broke the connection.

Leaning forward he tapped Graham’s shoulder. ‘To the office now please, the dragon’s on my tail’.

‘Right I’ll pull off at the next exit, nip up onto the roundabout then back down onto the motorway for a couple of junctions and then head into town. I heard you say you’d be in about ten. Might be a few minutes after that just depends on traffic’.

‘Fine do your best’.

‘Sure. How’s Sam then is she alright, and the baby?’

‘Yes they’re both fine’.

‘What did she have, boy or girl? My missus will want to know’.

Mark just stopped himself saying I have a son instead replying ‘A boy, she’s had a baby boy’.

‘Oh that’s nice. How heavy was it. The missus is bound to ask’.

‘No idea but he looked fairly normal size to me’. His mind flicked back to when he had briefly held his son in his arms. The child was fast asleep and seemed quite content. So he should be. He was unaware of the problems his arrival had caused!

The phone rang again and it was Steve Pounder, Wilson’s Finance Director. ‘Mark hi it’s Steve. ‘We’ve got to do something to sort out those Rigs in the North Sea. They’re not efficient. Output is five percent below budget, and the maintenance costs are shooting through the roof. The latest cost estimate for this year that’s just landed on my desk is nearly twice budget. Didn’t you say that you were going to be having some talks with someone about off loading them?’

‘Yes and yes’.

‘Eh?’

‘Yes I did and yes I have. I’ll brief you when I get in’.

The call finished and Mark leant back against the seat cushion thinking again of his son, of his wife Abi but especially of Sam.

When she’d left Lovells two years ago to follow Mark to Wilsons Oil she’d sold her apartment in Crawley and bought one in Wandsworth. In order to cut the commute from Sussex to London he’d bought an apartment in Chelsea.

Many evenings he was working seeing customers, suppliers, agents, advertising agencies, or just people that interested him but he loved to call in to see Sam afterwards sometimes just spending time making love before returning to his own apartment but often he’d spend the whole night with her. They’d decided that as she lived alone it was safer for him to stay with her rather than her staying with him as there was always the risk of her leaving something behind which would have been disastrous as Abi frequently used the Chelsea apartment as a base when up in London either shopping for the day or staying with Mark.

Even when she became pregnant Sam had been happy to continue to make love with him and they’d giggled together as they’d experimented with positions that were comfortable for her, satisfactory for him and didn’t press her stomach.

This was in marked contrast to Abi who when expecting Chloe, around the fifth month had really started to go off lovemaking. She’d reluctantly continued to satisfy Mark’s needs although by the end of the seventh month she’d only been prepared to use her hand on him refusing all oral or penetrative sexual activity.

Sam though even towards the end when heavily pregnant continued to excite and please him and although finally giving up on penetrative sex a couple of weeks before her expected date for giving birth had been happy to orally bring him to a stupendous climax. Mark had always loved her oral skills and she continued to satisfy his needs for this to the end.

Seeing her this morning though obviously tired she looked happy and beautiful. Her hair shone from where it had been brushed, a trace of lipstick was present, and she was wearing a pretty white broderie anglaise nightdress through which the outline of her breasts could be clearly seen.

She’d told him she’d go to her parents in Weymouth for a while. Perhaps a month she’d said just to get some help with the baby and give her a chance for some rest. He’d nodded thinking that four weeks apart would be the longest time they’d been separated since she’d first stated to work for him as his secretary in Corby all those years ago.

Graham pulled up in Piccadilly at quarter past ten and Mark slid out of the car, thanked his driver who zoomed off to turn into a side street which led to Wilsons underground car park. Mark walked quickly across the pavement, through the swing doors, nodded to the uniformed security guard who hurried to the lift and pressed the call button, and smiled warmly across the foyer at the pretty receptionist who smiled back then blushed as she did every time Mark either spoke or smiled at her.

Stepping out of the lift at the fourth floor he walked briskly down the corridor until he came to the Chief Executive’s suite of offices. Entering the outer one occupied by Gloria he muttered ‘Sorry to be late hope that hasn’t given you too much hassle’ and pushed open the door to his own large plush office. Taking a quick look out of the window across the street he plumped down into his large red leather chair. It was one of those chairs that tilted and swivelled in any direction and was extremely comfortable. Once when he discovered yet another tilting mechanism which adjusted part of the seat squab Sam had said that it could probably do anything he wanted except give him sex, but then grinning she’d said that was what she was there for, as well as being his secretary.

That was what he liked about Sam. She always knew when to draw the line. Alone with just the two of them she was fun, cheeky, sexy but when others were around she was the dynamic efficient, quite hard-nosed secretary. She’d also run his diary and his business life with ruthless efficiency and if anyone wanted to see Mark they had to get past Sam first. He knew that the two of them made a wonderful business team and above all they were also stunningly good together in bed. But he didn’t love her.

He loved being with her but he didn’t love her. Even now with the baby he knew he didn’t love her. His feelings were far more than intense than just liking her or being fond of her but they stopped short of love.

He loved Abi. He knew that and was comfortable with that.

The door opened and Gloria came in. To be fair, he thought as he watched her walk across the office carrying his first cup of coffee of the day, Gloria was efficient enough and for many senior businessmen she would have done splendidly but she simply wasn’t Sam. Sam in the office not Sam the lover.

‘Mark it would help if you’re going to suddenly change your plans like that if you’d tell me in advance’.

He nearly said that he hadn’t known he was going to change his plans until he’d rung the hospital and didn’t she realise that he had a son so stop whingeing at him and get out the champagne, but he didn’t and merely nodded meekly saying ‘Yes of course….. sorry’.

‘Right. I’ve re-sorted your day but your last meeting won’t start till seven tonight now I’m afraid’.

They discussed the day, moved a few things around but Gloria had done a good job of managing his diary.

The first of the day’s meetings was with Steve Pounder who came into Mark’s office looking worried.

‘Mark we’ve simply got to do something about those three rigs in the North Sea. Look at what they’re costing us’ and he dropped a detailed spreadsheet on Mark’s desk. ‘You can see how the repair and maintenance costs have continually increased this year so that they’re now four times the budgeted figure. Labour costs are up by thirty percent, yield is below expectation and wastage is sixty two percent above where it should be. Put those adverse costs together and the whole set up out there is costing us twice what it should. It simply can’t go on like that.

It’s affecting our total operational profit forecast for the whole business this year. If it isn’t sorted quickly I’m going to have to start dropping hints to The City that our profit forecast might have to be revised downwards’.

‘Shit’ muttered Mark. The last thing he wanted was to have to disappoint The City. He’d built a very strong reputation over the years as being a man who delivered good profit and cash flow performances and who always hit or exceeded his forecasts for the businesses he was running.

‘Look how long before you have to start dropping your hints? As you mentioned on the phone this morning I have been having talks with a number of people to take those rigs off us lock stock and barrel’ he paused and grinned ‘well gas not barrel of oil, but it hasn’t proved easy.

All the majors have turned us down and so have all the specialist explorers. I’ve had some lousy offers from a couple of speculators but they were so poor I had no other course than to turn them down.

I’m reluctant to do a deal with the Russians as I don’t trust them. They’d want to do a deferred deal and then find lots of ways to not pay up’.

‘So no-one then?’

‘I didn’t say that. No there is a further interesting line of enquiry that is live and on which I’m working now which might yield something but I don’t know how quickly I can get a deal done……. if indeed there is a deal to be done with them. I’m hoping for a further discussion tomorrow. So let me ask you again how long have I got before you start dropping your hints?’

‘In reality I should start now but I would be comfortable with leaving it about three or four weeks but not much longer’.

‘Fine that’s a big help. Alright I’ll keep you posted. Now anything else?’

‘Not really anything I need to discuss with you at this stage. I’ll leave you with this month’s provisional financial results, some papers that need your signature, minutes of the finance committee meeting yesterday and a proposal to replace some of the computer hardware in the accounts department’.

‘OK thanks’ and after his finance director had left the room he picked up the pile of papers and started to leaf through them. He was a quick reader and by the time of his next meeting in twenty minutes time, he’d signed the papers that Steve had left, scribbled OK to issue on the proposed financial results and read the summary of the computer replacement programme. This raised some questions in his mind so he slipped the document into his briefcase to read quietly at his home later that night.

The rest of the day went through with non-stop meetings, phone calls, working groups that he had to attend which when he’d joined the business used to be called committees, but Mark had said that committees were for local government that delighted in having talk shops that did nothing except talk and that as far as he was concerned all committees were immediately replaced with working or action groups. This had caused something of a shock but it was only one of many following his arrival and now Wilsons was a much sharper, more focussed, very profit orientated business.

Even though Gloria managed his diary somehow she didn’t do it as smoothly as Sam used to and Mark just found working more stressful now that his super secretary and lover was gone. Maybe he thought, it wasn’t so much that she was better at managing his diary than Gloria, but it was simply that he missed sleeping with her.

It was gone eight o’clock that night when Mark wearily buzzed for Graham to take him to his apartment in Chelsea and as he sat in the back of the Jaguar during the short journey he reflected again on his newly born son and Sam.

Graham soon pulled up in front of the building where Mark had his apartment, confirmed what time Mark wanted to be collected the next morning and drove off to tell his missus all about the day.

Mark plumped down into a settee, picked up the phone and rang Abi.

‘Hi it’s me’ he said. ‘How’s your day been?’

‘Fine. Chloe’s really speaking well for her age now you know. She had an assessment at the child clinic today and they were very impressed with her development especially her vocablary.

‘Great’ he replied thinking of when his son would be that age. ‘By the way Sam’s had the baby’.

‘Oh lovely’.

‘Yes isn’t it’ he responded quietly.

‘What did she have?’

‘Boy’.

‘Has she chosen a name for him?’

‘No idea, don’t think so’.

In fact he and Sam had talked many times about names but never decided. She’d always said that she wanted to wait and see whether she had a girl or a boy and what the child looked like. He’d laughed at that. ‘It’ll look like all babies do, little and wrinkled’ he used to chide her, but she said she’d know instinctively when she could see the child if a proposed choice of name was right.

They chatted for a while until after about twenty minutes they were starting to say good night to each other when Abi suddenly said ‘Sam’s never said who the father of her baby is has she?’

Mark went cold and felt a shiver down his spine. ‘Err no I don’t think so. I guess it’s her business isn’t it?’ he said as casually as he could.

‘Yes of course it is….. strange though. Have you never wondered who he is, this secret lover of hers? Ah well I expect we’ll find out in due course. Well goodnight darling, sleep well’.

‘Thanks. Goodnight’.

He replaced the receiver and then immediately picked it up again and rang the maternity hospital and asked to speak to Sam. The switch Board operator asked if he was a relative.

‘Yes I’m the father’ he snapped.

He was told to wait while they checked whether it was convenient for the new mother to speak with him. It seemed ages before there was a click and he heard her voice.

‘Darling how lovely to hear from you. Where are you?’

He told her and asked how she was and how was the baby.

‘He’s fine. Feeding well and yelling loudly whenever he wants something. Now does that remind you of anyone?’ she giggled.

‘Me?’ he replied softly.

‘Umm has been known hasn’t it’ she continued light heartedly.

They talked. She told him what she’d been doing which didn’t seem much except feeding, changing, learning how to handle a screaming infant, and trying to get some rest.

‘Wish you were here with us’ Sam said wistfully.

‘So do I. I’m going home to Sussex tomorrow so I’ll call in and see you on the way back’.

She said yes please. They talked for a little longer and then he rang off and opening the fridge took out a bottle of Sauvignon Blanc wine poured a glass which he sipped thoughtfully before changing into slacks and a sweater. He mooched around the apartment for a while feeling unsettled then decided he was hungry so poking around in the fridge, he found some ham, cheese and eggs, to knock up an omelette which he sat eating while watching the TV news. The lead story was still explosions and bombings in the Middle East.

Switching off the TV he poured himself a large vodka and sparkling water, leant back in his armchair and thought about Sam and their baby. He worried about how he was going to be a father to the child and how he could integrate that with his life with Abi his wife and their two year old Chloe.

He turned the problem over and over in his mind but didn’t solve it so he showered went to bed where he stretched his six foot two frame several times to help him relax. Soon he dropped off to sleep.

Next morning Graham picked him up at seven and he was soon in the office and catching up on e-mails from various parts of the Wilson’s operations around the world.

Gloria arrived about eight and together they sorted out Mark’s day. As they did so he reflected that things were so different without Sam as his pa. Somehow she’d organised his day so efficiently and competently that it had run like clockwork even when he’d made changes without discussing them with her when she’d grumble or scowl at him and then just get on a re-organise to cope with the changes he’d forced through.

Still he soon forgot about Sam as he started his first meetings of the day and the morning flew by. Over a sandwich lunch which he ate at his desk he thought about the crucial meeting this afternoon. If successful he might have found away to sell off the North Sea rigs and remove the profit drain problem that they were causing for Wilsons.

His mind went back to the Sunday morning a few weeks ago. He and Abi had finished breakfast and were sitting reading the morning papers when the phone rang.

‘Mr. Watson?’ asked a voice he didn’t recognise. He said it was. ‘I’m sorry to trouble you on a Sunday morning but I know how busy you are and I have rung your office a couple of times but your pa hasn’t been able to find a slot for us to talk. I have a proposition that may be of interest to Wilsons and I’d like to find some time for us to discuss it’.

‘Look I try and keep my Sundays for private and not for business. Can you e-mail or write to me at the office giving me an outline of what you want to talk about then if I think it’s worth it I’ll ask Gloria to contact you and find some time for us to meet’.

‘I could do that of course but I am concerned that it may delay things and I would really like to see you as soon as possible’.

‘No doubt’ snapped Mark in reply already slightly pissed off at the way this chap was pushing him on the phone ‘but that’s the way I want to do it. So send me an e-mail, I will read it I assure you. Ok? Now if you’ll excuse me I want to get back to what I was doing’ and he prepared to finish the conversation.

‘I want to buy your North Sea rigs’.

‘What did you say?’

‘I said that I, or rather the people I represent, want to buy your North Sea rigs and drilling operations off you’.

Mark’s mind went into overdrive. Who was this guy? If he was for real he could be just what they wanted.

‘Who are you and who are you representing?’

‘I’d rather not go into any further detail on the phone but I assure you I am entirely genuine as are the people with whom I am working. My name is Dennis Seymour and I have my diary to hand. Could we fix a time? If it helps, bearing in mind how busy you are I’d be prepared to drive down to Sussex’.

‘Wait’. Mark walked to his study, fired up his computer, picked up the telephone extension and when re-connected said to hold on as he scanned his electronic diary for the coming week. Look could you do an evening meeting, say this coming Tuesday at seven at my office’.

Dennis said that was fine and he looked forward to the meeting.

All through the rest of Sunday Mark couldn’t settle to anything. Even when he, Abi and Chloe went for a walk in the countryside with their dogs whereas he usually chattered about the things that they saw around them, this time he was quiet, almost morose. He’d told Abi about the mysterious phone call but she obviously couldn’t help but he found it useful to talk to her about it.

Monday had been busy and during Tuesday his mind kept flicking to the evening meeting with Dennis Seymour.

Just before seven the night security officer from reception had rung through to Mark to say that his visitor was here and should he send him up? Mark said yes and that he’d meet him at the lifts.

When the lift doors opened Mark saw a short slightly chubby man in a smart suit who smiled warmly as he held out his hand. ‘Mr. Watson thank you for seeing me’.

Mark nodded, shook hands and led the man to his office.

‘Right I’m all ears. Can we start by you explaining something about yourself and the people you represent and why our rigs may be of interest to you’.

‘Certainly Mr. Watson….. err look can I call you Mark?’ Seeing the nod he went on ‘I am a consultant to a group of foreign businessmen who are interested in expanding their portfolio of off shore rigs. They have bought several around the world which were no longer suitable to the primary owners for reasons of high operating costs, dropping yields, off strategy or any number of other reasons. My people take them on, change the operating practices, rip out a whole bunch of costs and lo and behold they can make money out of them for the remainder of their operating life’.

‘How?’

‘Unencumbered by the corporate structure and high cost base of a major operator like yourself and even more so by the real giant operators like Shell, Esso and so on, they run a lean mean exceptionally low cost business.

You may be surprised but it works. I’ve seen them take problem rigs and within a couple of months turn them round into profit. They want to do that with yours Mark and they are prepared to make a cash offer to take them off your hands. The deal could be done quickly without fuss or publicity. A win win all round. You get rid of your problem North Sea operations, my people get to expand their business’.

‘You’re making one big assumption though Dennis. You are assuming that our rigs are for sale’.

‘Are you saying that they’re not? I thought the fact that you’ve been meeting so many people to discuss disposal of your rigs meant that you wanted them off your hands’ and he smiled slightly cynically.

Mark said nothing for a while just stared hard at the other man. It was one of his techniques and soon Dennis dropped his eyes and started to fiddle with the papers in the file that he’d brought with him. But while Mark stared he was thinking furiously. If this guy really was able to organise a deal like this, it would go a long way to helping Mark achieve his corporate targets of profit and cash flow to keep the City happy.

‘Tell me more about your people’ he asked and Dennis took further documents from his briefcase and passed them across to Mark who studied them quickly but carefully.

The conversation went into considerable detail and by nine o’clock Mark was pretty well convinced that the company with whom Dennis was working was not only genuine but sound and really interested in Wilson’s rigs.

‘All right leave all this with me to mull over. I’ll get back to you in a few days but I am interested in your proposition. Of course at the end of the day it’ll come down to money and how much your IC Corp are prepared to pay, but let’s cross that bridge when we come to it’.

‘Of course but I am sure we’ll find a satisfactory financial deal. Thank you and I look forward to hearing from you’.

Mark led him to the lift and travelled down with him then passed him over to the security guard to let out of the building.

When Dennis Seymour had gone, Mark returned to his office and thought deeply about the meeting. This really was an opportunity and he had to make it happen, but first he wanted to check out IC Corp a bit more.

Flicking through his address book he dialled a number, waited and then spoke warmly to the person who answered.

‘Andrew good evening it’s Mark….. Mark Watson. I need something checked out very quickly please’ and he briefly outlined what he wanted.

Andrew Spicer head of Business Intelligence Ltd, known as B I, listened carefully, asked several questions and then confirmed that they’d handle the assignment. Finishing by pointing out that in view of such urgency in the project, his terms would incur a twenty percent surcharge and did Mark agree to that.

He did and it was two days later that Andrew rang Mark, invited him to dinner in London that evening and said that he would brief him on IC Corporation.

They met in a small smart French restaurant just off Piccadilly which was quiet and discrete and where they could talk without being overheard. As soon as Mark had slid into his seat, scanned the menu and chosen Andrew smiled and handed over a file about half an inch thick.

‘Here you are. IC Corporation, or India China Corporation to give them their full name. Well what an interesting company this is. Makes money where others couldn’t. They’re quite genuine although I would say that some of their business practices border on the ….. umm shall we say, edge of normal practice?’ He grinned and went on. ‘You see the main difference between them operating your rigs and you operating those same rigs is this.

Firstly they’ll use lots of very low cost labour from Eastern Europe or the Middle or Far East which you don’t; secondly they’ll not spend money on anything unless it’s absolutely essential so no nice to have things; thirdly they’ll have a lot less people out there and they’ll make them work much longer hours, they’ll not have any union agreements for example; fourthly their Head office overheads are miniscule compared to you and the other Oil majors and lastly they are past masters at squeezing out every unnecessary element of cost.

They’ve done this with other off shore rigs they’ve acquired but also they’ve adopted the same policy with some mines they’ve bought around the world, both coal and mineral. Basically they are bottom fishing scavengers. When something’s used up or clapped out and not worth continuing for a major outfit like yours, they come in, take it on and suck out the last remaining drops.

So to answer your key questions, yes they’re genuine, yes they’ve got money alright, just have a look at the financial schedules in that report, and yes I think you’re OK to do a deal with them. But you’ll need all your negotiating skills to get them to pay up lots of money. Now do you want us to do any more research or will that do for now?’

Mark sat quietly, eating his prawn mushroom and salsa starter one handed while reading quickly through the document at the same time.

As the waiter cleared their plates and then brought their main course Mark felt the excitement rise in him. This IC Corp outfit was not only real but appeared to have the ability to solve his problem and buy the rigs off him. He grinned and put the file in his briefcase then tucked into his grilled Turbot which was cooked to perfection.

‘When are you meeting them again?’ queried Andrew.

‘Tomorrow, that’s why I needed this so quickly’.

He thanked Andrew for such a thorough report said that he didn’t need any further work done and around ten o’clock the two men parted.

As Mark sat in the back of his Jaguar being driven home he felt the need for sex. He knew that deals or solutions to problems triggered this off and that was where Sam had been so useful. She never complained and could read his mood and his need straight away. If she was still his secretary and not holed up in hospital with the new born baby he could have gone to her flat and fucked her but as it was he had an hour and a half’s drive before he got home to Sussex and his wife Abi.

‘Come on Graham old lad put your foot down will you’ he asked and then leant back and started re-reading the file that Andrew had given him. Yet again he marvelled at how efficient BI was in obtaining and delivering commercial intelligence, or industrial espionage really to give it it’s proper name he supposed, as their methods of obtaining the information were very clandestine.

Arriving home he thanked Graham, agreed tomorrow’s pick up time and going indoors gathered Abi into his arms and kissed her deeply and passionately.

His hands ran up and down her back before wandering to her buttocks which he pressed and squeezed. Leaning back he smiled at her.

‘Hi. Have you had a good day darling?’ he asked still fondling her bottom.

‘Yes thanks’ and she took his hand and led him into their sitting room where he dropped onto the sofa and watched as she fixed him a large vodka and sparkling water which she carried over to him and sat down on the sofa beside him.

They chatted for a few moments until looking intently into her eyes he said, ‘I need you……now’ and leaning forward kissed her deeply. As his tongue pushed into her mouth his hands squeezed her breasts before sliding under her skirt to her panties which he stroked gently.

‘Come on darling’ she said softly ‘we’d better get you to bed’.

‘Yes please’ and taking her hand he practically dragged her upstairs to their bedroom where she started to undress but he grabbed her and pushed her onto the bed.

Quickly he undid his trousers and pushed them and his boxers down his legs.

‘Whey, you are excited aren’t you?’ she giggled. ‘Now what’s brought this on then?’ she asked reaching for his erection

He didn’t reply just flipped up her skirt, tugged her panties off and climbing on top as she wrapped her legs around him, pushed himself forward.

She grunted as his large prick forced it’s way inside her as yet not fully lubricated pussy, but as soon as he started moving within her she moistened. He moved faster in response, pounding deeply into her. It was all over very soon and gripping her shoulders he erupted inside her.

Moving more slowly he calmed down until all movement ceased and he lay there cuddling her.

Grinning at her he said quietly ‘Thanks’.

‘What was that all about?’

‘I just needed you darling. Thinking about you in the car I just got randy and seeing you when I got home just made things boil up a bit. Love you’.

‘Umm and I love you too’ and she pulled him close wondering about what he’d said. There was more to it than he’d let on. She’d noticed before that sometimes something at work seemed to bring out an animal need in him, maybe that was it tonight. After all he’d been at a business meeting.

They lay together for a while kissing softly and stroking each other until he wriggled upright and took off the rest of his clothes.

‘Drink?’ he asked getting off the bed and when she nodded he walked downstairs still naked to the drinks cabinet, poured her a whisky and soda and collected for himself the large vodka and sparkling mineral water she’d poured for him earlier and which he hadn’t touched.

When he returned to the bedroom he saw that Abi had undressed and now wearing a pretty cream and white nightie was sitting with the duvet cover around her waist.

As he took her drink over to her she smiled and patted the cover beside her and they started to chat about the day but as they talked she thought, as she had before, that these sudden bursts of sexual need that he seemed to have were so surprising. After it was over he’d be relaxed and chat as if he’d just come home. Just like tonight.

Now he was relaxed and chatty, relaxed and warm, caring even. Admittedly he was stark naked but only a few minutes ago he’d been making love to her energetically quite uncaring of her needs, just seeming to need to satisfy his own requirement.

Other times he was kind considerate and very loving but every now and then he appeared to have this desperate need for sudden sex.

Yawning Abi said that as they were in bed they might as well have an early night for once and she slipped out of bed and went into their en-suite bathroom but when she came back into the bedroom she saw that he was fully erect again.

‘God you are in a state tonight aren’t you?’ she chuckled.

‘Seeing you, thinking of you, wanting you my love’ he responded light heartedly but with an earnest expression in his eyes.

‘But I might want to go straight to sleep and not have to deal with this thing’ she smiled squeezing his prick gently.

‘No chance’ he muttered pulling her head down towards his belly.

Abi paused for a moment then slid her lips around his erection. Hearing him sigh she moved her lips up and down him a few times as he reached beneath her nightdress and started to fondle her nipples but it wasn’t long before she lifted her head way from him, moved up the bed and climbed on top pressing him deep inside herself.

Moving slowly she started making love to him. She took off her nightie and leaning forward dangled her breasts one at a time in his face. He squeezed then kissed them before taking each nipple in turn into his mouth and gently chewing and sucking.

‘Let’s take time darling’ she gasped as she knew it would be some time before she felt the first stirrings of her orgasm approach. Putting his fingers onto her clit she grunted as he pinched and rubbed her sensitive magic spot, while she, breathing loudly moved up and down on him more quickly and purposefully. He heaved his hips in time with her movements and she continued to move on him for a long time until suddenly arching her back and letting out a low groan, she reached her climax.

Continuing to move she whispered ‘Now darling come on, now’ and he made a few further quite energetic upward moves until groaning he ejaculated for the second time that evening.

Leaning down she kissed his nose and then leant forward and laid on him where they stayed until they had both calmed down, separated and lay quietly next to each other.

‘Umm thank you darling’ she said softly.

He said nothing, just gave her a little kiss on the cheek and snuggled closer into her. Smiling she held him tightly. She could feel his prick which was lying against her thigh starting to collapse and his whole body relax.

‘Alright darling?’ she queried softly.

‘Yes thanks’ was his soft reply as he lay there reflecting on their lovemaking. Much as he didn’t want to he couldn’t help comparing it with Sam who was so stunningly good in bed and especially at giving oral sex. She would have spent ages licking, sucking, slurping, chewing and teasing him for so much longer, possibly until he’d climaxed if that was what he’d wanted, as he’d done so many times with her while she worked on his prick.

Thinking of Sam like that stopped his erection from subsiding, so taking a deep breath he turned onto his side and listened to Abi’s soft breathing until he dropped off to sleep.

CHAPTER 2

The alarm woke him next morning early and later in the office he reflected on his discussions with Andrew Spicer’s about IC Corp and today’s meeting with Dennis Seymour.

He was ready to start serious negotiations but his problem was that if Dennis believed that he was the only buyer then he was going to drive a very hard and unsatisfactory bargain. Somehow Mark had to convince him that there was at least one other party interested in taking the three rigs off Wilsons. Just before the meeting started he briefed Gloria on an important action he wanted her to take.

The meeting started at three o’clock and Mark pointedly asked Gloria to be sure there were no interruptions.

‘Well have you had time to consider my proposition?’ asked Dennis Seymour opening the meeting.

‘You haven’t made me a proposition’ retorted Mark. ‘All you’ve done is say that you want to buy my North Sea rigs. That isn’t what I’d call a proposition. It’s just a vague offer, unstructured, unspecified and undetailed.

Dennis smiled and then reaching into his briefcase took out a slim brown folder which he passed over to Mark.

It was embossed on the outside with the IC Corporation logo and inside the first page was headed

PROPOSAL TO ACQUIRE NORTH SEA RIGS

FROM WILSON OIL COMPANY

Mark skim read the fifteen pages that the document comprised. It seemed a straight forward offer to take on the rigs. The price quoted was fair the only immediate sticking point seemed to be that IC Corp expected Wilsons to pay for all the redundancy costs when they fired most of the people in order to replace them with their own lower paid workers.

‘On the face of it this seems fairly straightforward but obviously I’ll need a few days to look at this in detail and consult with the other members of my Board. However I can tell you that if you want us to pick up the redundancy costs post completion of the deal then you’ll have to increase the offer you’ve made to compensate us for that. The other thing of course is that we’ll have to compare your submission with the other offer that we have for the rigs’.

Dennis looked surprised. ‘What other offer? I know you’ve tried to sell them off before but I thought they’d all fallen away. Are you saying that you’ve got another offer?’

‘We’ve had several offers recently but there is one we’re seriously considering and that doesn’t require us to pick up the redundancy tab’. Mark stared deep into Dennis’s eyes as he finished speaking.

‘You’re bluffing Mark. I don’t blame you for that, but you’re bluffing’.

‘If that’s what you think you could be making a very big mistake’.

Dennis didn’t speak for a couple of minutes then he smiled. ‘I’m not sure I believe that you really do have another offer for those rigs, but I’ll wait to hear from you. I need to know by the end of the week because my people have several deals potentially on the go and time is pressing to complete this one’.

‘I’m not sure we can give you an answer that quickly’ Mark said quietly. ‘There’s a lot to consider here. Look let’s talk about these handover issues on page seven’ and he again stared at the other man.

The discussions became very detailed and intense until suddenly there was a knock at the door and Gloria walked in.

‘I said no interruptions’ snapped Mark.

‘I know I’m sorry Mr. Watson but there is a caller on the line for you and he is absolutely insistent that I tell you he’s there.

‘Who is it?’

‘He says his name is Igor Smolenskov, err at least I hope that’s right. The gentleman seems to have a rather thick foreign accent but it’s the third time he’s rung since you started your meeting and he says that he wants an answer to the proposition that he’s made to you’.

‘Ah’ responded Mark managing to look slightly embarrassed but in reality delighted that Gloria had played her part in the deception so well. ‘Please tell Mr. Smolenskov that I will definitely call him as soon as I’ve finished this meeting. Make sure you get a number where I can reach him will you please’.

Gloria confirmed that she’d do exactly that then left the room as Mark turned back to Dennis. He apologised for the interruption then asked ‘Now where were we?’

Dennis suddenly looking very thoughtful reminded him that they were discussing some handover matters and so the two men returned to the detail but Dennis noticed that Mark seemed slightly distracted since Gloria’s interruption.

‘Excuse me a moment will you’ asked Mark suddenly getting up and walking over to a filing cabinet from where he extracted a blue file. Glancing through it he nodded to himself then put the file on top of the cabinet before walking back to his desk and picking up the brown folder that Dennis had give him at the start of their meeting. He looked at a couple of pages, then returned to the filing cabinet, again opened the blue file, appeared to check something before replacing the file and closing the cabinet drawer.

Returning to his desk he smiled at the potential buyer of his rigs seemingly quite relaxed again.

‘OK call me Friday and I’ll give you an update on where we are but I warn you that your offer does not look good compared with the alternative that we have’.

The two men looked at each other for a short while until Dennis nodded, stood, shook hands then followed Mark out of his office into Gloria’s outer office and they said goodbye. Gloria led the potential buyer of Wilson’s troubled rig operation to the lifts where he waited for it to arrive now not at all sure that Mark had been bluffing.

Although he’d never heard of someone called Igor Smolenskov he did know that Wilsons had been having discussions with some Russian oil and gas operators and as soon as he was out of the building he dialled an overseas number on his mobile phone. When his caller answered he said ‘I think we may have a problem with the deal for Wilson’s rigs. It might be a good idea if you and some of the others came over’.

Asked why he explained about the apparently better offer from a Russian and the two of them spoke for about twenty minutes. Finishing he wondered what that twenty minute call to India would have cost.

Back in his office Mark wondered if his little charade worked. Had the interruption and play acting of looking at another file been enough to convince Dennis that there was a competitor in the race to buy Wilson’s rigs?

He dialled for his finance and operations directors to come and join him and when they did he outlined to them the result of his discussion and IC Corp’s offer.

They agreed that the offer from IC Corporation was not unsatisfactory especially in the light of any other decent propositions but Mark told them that he was sure he could force the offer up to a higher figure and with that confident assertion he drew the meeting to a close.

He worked hard for the rest of the day attending or running meetings, reviewing performance in various parts of the business until around five o’clock he picked up the phone and dialled the hospital, waited until he was put through to Sam and then relaxed as he heard her soft voice.

He asked how she was and how was his son? They spoke for a long time during which she said that she thought she’d christen the child with two Christian names, Guy first and Mark second. ‘He looks like a Guy and a Mark’ she giggled down the phone. ‘They’re strong names…… like his Daddy who I wish was here now’.

‘I think they’re great’ he replied before continuing ‘is it tomorrow that you’re going down to Weymouth….. to your parents.

She said that it was. They talked for a while before wishing each other good night and breaking the connection Mark thought about selling those rigs. Sam though sat holding the dead receiver for a while thinking about the father of her baby.

Telling Graham to leave the car as he’d drive himself home he carried on working until a little before seven to allow the Friday night traffic to clear and then he set off home but half way he decided to call in to the hospital and see Sam.

Quietly he opened the door to her private room and creeping across to the bed saw that she was asleep. Leaning down he kissed her softly and very tenderly on the lips and as she opened her eyes he smiled down and said softly ‘Hi’.

‘Darling what a lovely surprise’ she smiled sitting up and patting her hair into place. ‘Sorry I wasn’t expecting you I bet I look a mess’.

‘No you look beautiful as you always do my darling’. He kissed her again. ‘Now how is Guy Mark Franklin?’

‘Umm ok. The doctors were a bit worried this morning about his breathing, but he seems fine now’ and she leaned over to look at the sleeping child in the see through Perspex cot next to her bed. Mark joined her in peering at the tiny infant. ‘How big was he at birth’ he whispered. ‘Abi keeps asking me’.

‘Eight pounds seven ounces, so quite a bruiser …… in every sense’ she grimaced ‘but I told her that this afternoon’ she replied then seeing his look of surprise she went on ‘yes Abi called in to see me after lunch. That was nice of her wasn’t it? I must say though that deep down it felt a bit odd talking to your wife about your child that you fathered with me. How are we ever going to work something out?’

‘I don’t know. I’ll think of something’ and he smiled.

They talked quietly until Guy stirred and start to cry. Sam got out of bed and picking him up sat down in the chair alongside the bed and opening the front of her nightie extracted one large breast and placed the child to her. He slurped and grunted away for a while until she pulled him off her nipple with a plop, put him over her shoulder and patted his back. Soon a loud burp emerged and she then put him to her other breast.

Mark watched and looking at her breasts wondered when they’d again be able to make love. It had been about nine weeks after Chloe was born that Abi had permitted sex again. Somehow he thought Sam would do it much quicker. The question was when could he get her into bed again?

He sat quietly watching, smiling as Sam burped Guy again, changed his nappy and then put him down in the cot where after a couple of small cries he settled down. Mark again wondered how the hell he was going to tell Abi and how he was going to manage two families.

After Sam had put the child back in the cot, she held out her arms to Mark and said softly ‘Cuddle me please’ and when he pulled her into his tall strong body she felt warm, happy, safe and contented.

‘I’ve got to go’ he said quietly.

‘I know but kiss me first’ and he did slowly, gently and for a long time.

‘Thanks for coming to see us. You do know I love you don’t you?’ whispered Sam.

‘Yes’.

‘I’ll call you from Mum and Dads’.

‘Yes that would be good. Look it really is time I went’ and giving her another tender kiss he walked across the room, paused as he opened the door, smiled and called softly ‘Bye’. Then he was gone.

The room seemed empty without him. He was such a strong dominant personality that without him a void had opened up again in her life but shrugging she picked up a book and read for a while before lying down and going to sleep thinking of her man and her son.

Mark drove home where Abi had arranged a late supper in the large kitchen. As they ate she said ‘I called in to see Sam this afternoon. She looked radiant and baby Guy is so lovely. Nice of her to give him Mark as a second name I thought. She said that you’d been so good to her that she thought it was a nice way to compliment you.

Mind you he was a big baby at birth you know. I’m glad that Charlie, Emma and little Chloe were nowhere as big as that’.

The weekend passed slowly.

Mark kept thinking of Sam and Guy down in Weymouth and wondered if he could find an excuse to get down there but even as he pondered that thought he knew it simply wouldn’t be possible.

On Saturday night they had friends to dinner and after they’d cleared up they went to bed where Mark immediately burrowed his way down to Abi’s thighs which he pulled towards him and started stroking kissing and licking her pussy until judging by her breathing and the fact that she was not only stretching her legs wide apart but was now extremely wet he moved on top and made long slow love to her.

On Sunday they were up early chattering with little Chloe their daughter who was now nearly three. After breakfast he went to his study and cleared some work while Abi busied herself around the house.

He looked again at the proposition from IC to buy their North Sea rigs and soon was immersed in some detailed calculations. After lunch they drove to the coast and walked on the beach for a while before returning home and settling down to the Sunday papers.

Mark was shocked to see an article in the business section of the Sunday Voice which posed the question:

IS WILSON OIL READY TO QUIT NORTH SEA?

There followed a long article about how it was believed that the rig operation was losing money and how the company