soufflé. For dessert," he continued with a hard look at Shelley's stricken expression, "we'll have
the chocolate fondue with strawberries." He handed over the menus without taking his stem gaze off Shelley. "Just a
salad," he muttered chidingly.
"You have no right to play the masterful type when it comes to the issue of my food," she hissed in a barely audible
voice.
An engaging grin replaced Joel's condemning look. "Does that mean I can play the masterful role when it comes to
other issues?"
"Stop teasing me. I happen to be on a diet," she explained austerely.
"Don't worry, you'll burn off lots of calories trying to save Ackerly Manufacturing," he shot back dismissively.
"Besides, you don't need to diet. I like you the way you are." The blue eyes moved with satisfaction over her figure.
"What you think of me hardly matters," she replied aloofly, warming under the impact of that glance. "What counts
is what you think of my plans for Ackerly."
"So tell me how you're going to stop the slide into bankruptcy," he prompted agreeably. Too agreeably, Shelley
thought. Nevertheless, she launched into a synopsis of her plans.
"The first rule in this land of crisis management is to nail down all the cash. Ackerly will have to reduce overhead,
push collection of receivables, sell off inventory and turn assets into cash."
"And put off creditors indefinitely," he added helpfully.
"Not indefinitely," Shelley protested. "But we will have to plan a different payback schedule."
"Hasn't Ackerly got bank loans to worry about, too?" Joel asked as the pâté arrived. He spread the rich stuff onto a
slice of French bread and pushed it into Shelley's hand.
"Yes, unfortunately." She stared helplessly down at the pâté.
"Are you going to ask the bank to defer collecting its money the way you're asking me to do?" he inquired in
amusement, spreading pâté on a chunk of bread for himself.
Shelley sighed. "I'm approaching you because I don't think I'll be able to convince the bank to lay off." The thought
was depressing enough to make her take a bite of the pâté and bread. God! It was good.
"I see." Joel watched the delicious morsel disappear neatly into her mouth and smiled with approval.
"Does that smile indicate you're willing to go along with my plans?" Shelley asked hopefully, unconsciously taking
another bite of the pâté.
"Keep talking," he murmured, not answering the question.
And she did, all the way through the pâté, the salad and the wonderful snapper. By the time the fondue pot full of
chocolate and liqueur arrived, Shelley was beyond thinking about the food. She simply ate with complete pleasure,
concentrating mentally on building her case for the salvaging of Ackerly Manufacturing. Joel listened with flattering
attention, but for the life of her, she couldn't be sure what he was thinking.
"And if you pull this off successfully, you figure you'll be on your way to setting up your own consulting firm?" he
concluded as he clipped the last strawberry into the melted chocolate and bit into it
Shelley nodded, not wanting to get into an extended discussion of that side of the matter. She didn't like being
called a hustler.
He swallowed the strawberry and nodded decisively. "Okay, Shelley Banning, you've got yourself a deal. Under the
terms I outlined this afternoon."
Startled by the unexpectedly quick capitulation, Shelley stared at him, lips slightly parted in astonishment, before
she rushed to accept the offer.
"Thank you, Joel. The terms are acceptable. Ackerly Manufacturing will be most appreciative, I assure you."
"I don't give a damn about Ackerly's appreciation," he informed her smoothly as he got to his feet and put out a
strong hand to guide her out of her chair. "You're the one I'll be holding personally responsible for the success of your
scheme."
"Me!" She shot him a covert look.
"You. Let's go back to your place and work on that puzzle." He smiled dangerously down at her wary
the chocolate fondue with strawberries." He handed over the menus without taking his stem gaze off Shelley. "Just a
salad," he muttered chidingly.
"You have no right to play the masterful type when it comes to the issue of my food," she hissed in a barely audible
voice.
An engaging grin replaced Joel's condemning look. "Does that mean I can play the masterful role when it comes to
other issues?"
"Stop teasing me. I happen to be on a diet," she explained austerely.
"Don't worry, you'll burn off lots of calories trying to save Ackerly Manufacturing," he shot back dismissively.
"Besides, you don't need to diet. I like you the way you are." The blue eyes moved with satisfaction over her figure.
"What you think of me hardly matters," she replied aloofly, warming under the impact of that glance. "What counts
is what you think of my plans for Ackerly."
"So tell me how you're going to stop the slide into bankruptcy," he prompted agreeably. Too agreeably, Shelley
thought. Nevertheless, she launched into a synopsis of her plans.
"The first rule in this land of crisis management is to nail down all the cash. Ackerly will have to reduce overhead,
push collection of receivables, sell off inventory and turn assets into cash."
"And put off creditors indefinitely," he added helpfully.
"Not indefinitely," Shelley protested. "But we will have to plan a different payback schedule."
"Hasn't Ackerly got bank loans to worry about, too?" Joel asked as the pâté arrived. He spread the rich stuff onto a
slice of French bread and pushed it into Shelley's hand.
"Yes, unfortunately." She stared helplessly down at the pâté.
"Are you going to ask the bank to defer collecting its money the way you're asking me to do?" he inquired in
amusement, spreading pâté on a chunk of bread for himself.
Shelley sighed. "I'm approaching you because I don't think I'll be able to convince the bank to lay off." The thought
was depressing enough to make her take a bite of the pâté and bread. God! It was good.
"I see." Joel watched the delicious morsel disappear neatly into her mouth and smiled with approval.
"Does that smile indicate you're willing to go along with my plans?" Shelley asked hopefully, unconsciously taking
another bite of the pâté.
"Keep talking," he murmured, not answering the question.
And she did, all the way through the pâté, the salad and the wonderful snapper. By the time the fondue pot full of
chocolate and liqueur arrived, Shelley was beyond thinking about the food. She simply ate with complete pleasure,
concentrating mentally on building her case for the salvaging of Ackerly Manufacturing. Joel listened with flattering
attention, but for the life of her, she couldn't be sure what he was thinking.
"And if you pull this off successfully, you figure you'll be on your way to setting up your own consulting firm?" he
concluded as he clipped the last strawberry into the melted chocolate and bit into it
Shelley nodded, not wanting to get into an extended discussion of that side of the matter. She didn't like being
called a hustler.
He swallowed the strawberry and nodded decisively. "Okay, Shelley Banning, you've got yourself a deal. Under the
terms I outlined this afternoon."
Startled by the unexpectedly quick capitulation, Shelley stared at him, lips slightly parted in astonishment, before
she rushed to accept the offer.
"Thank you, Joel. The terms are acceptable. Ackerly Manufacturing will be most appreciative, I assure you."
"I don't give a damn about Ackerly's appreciation," he informed her smoothly as he got to his feet and put out a
strong hand to guide her out of her chair. "You're the one I'll be holding personally responsible for the success of your
scheme."
"Me!" She shot him a covert look.
"You. Let's go back to your place and work on that puzzle." He smiled dangerously down at her wary
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