Where Rivers Part (11 page)

 14 

F
rom her position at the head of the conference table, Alexa Carmichael leaned forward and shot a look out over the polished granite. “Could someone please explain how these figures are still off by 20 percent?”

The executive team members glanced nervously at each other.

Juliet knew Greer, who was VP of marketing and sales, had worked closely with Alexa to determine volume, so his sales projections were likely accurate. Fred Macklin, the comptroller, simply took the numbers others provided and plugged them into his spreadsheet calculations. And certainly, Juliet's area had nothing to do with the error.

That left Dale Frissom, VP of operations. Distribution fell under his direction. Clearly in the hot seat, he adjusted his tie at his neck and dropped his attention to the spreadsheet in front of him.

Alexa jiggled her pen, snapping the expensive Waterman against the granite table. “I know you are all thinking this snafu falls solely in Dale's lap, but everyone in this room—including me—reviewed those numbers. None of us caught that the estimates were off.” She drew her free hand into a fist and leaned forward. “We missed it, and Cyril Montavan raised the issue.” She pounded the table in frustration. “Which is unacceptable.”

Greer clasped his hands neatly in front of him. “We have a short window of time to commit to this opportunity with Water Circus without competitors issuing bids that could potentially undercut ours,” he reported in a manner that irked Juliet. “The task was certainly not easy, considering we've never serviced a national account of this magnitude, but I have this valuable customer convinced we can perform. As a company, we have to do whatever it takes to save this deal.”

And your fat sales commission
, Juliet thought.

Fred Macklin fingered the back of his white hair. “If distribution costs are off by 20 percent, we'll have to adjust elsewhere.”

Again, Greer intercepted the conversation in his favor. “Exactly. We have no choice but to make cuts in order to maintain necessary profit margins.” He opened a folder in front of him and passed a stack of papers around the table. “I took the liberty to evaluate current budgets and believe I found a viable solution.”

Alexa rewarded him with a smile. “Well, that's good news.” She tapped her pen against her fingers while studying his proposal. She lifted her head. “Greer, you're onto something here.”

Over the next hour, the executive team studied the figures in Greer's spreadsheets. There were minor reductions to extraction, bottling, warehousing, and trucking expenses. With the increase in production, everyone agreed very little could be done to squeeze those costs down.

Human resources under Dale was definitely vulnerable, but by far the largest cut was to quality control.

Clearly, the people in the room did not understand the critical need to ensure product safety. Juliet wasn't naïve enough to believe FDA regulations were as compelling as new accounts with huge profit potential, but one slip didn't just mean a monetary fine for regulatory noncompliance—outbreaks of foodborne illness could take whole companies down.

Her father's voice rang out in her mind. “See, what did I tell
you? Profit-hungry corporations always cut corners when it comes to safety.”

She pushed away the unwelcome mental intrusion. On the surface, it may appear that way, but he was wrong.

Of course Larimar Springs needed to watch the bottom line. But Alexa had granted assurances before hiring her that safety mattered.

The critical task fell to her to educate and influence decisions in matters relating to safety as zealously as Greer argued profit margins.

“Look, I'm not going to bore everyone with regulatory standards or give a verbal thesis on viable and necessary methods to maintain acceptable levels of contaminants—”

Greer smirked. “That's welcome news.”

She didn't let his sarcasm derail her. “I'm not going to put everybody to sleep with scientific data, but I would be remiss in my duties if I didn't point out that the quality control cuts represented here could place this company at risk.”

He raised his eyebrows and let out a chuckle. “Really? How so?”

Ignoring the uncomfortable expressions on the other men's faces, she took up the challenge, countering with something she hoped would matter to Alexa and her executive team. “Have you been watching the news lately? It means we keep Larimar Springs free of negative media attention. Or worse.”

Now out of the hot seat, Dale climbed on Greer's self-serving bandwagon. “I can see the concern if we manufactured hamburger, but we're a bottled water company. How many E. coli cases do you see on the news associated with good old H2O?”

Juliet drew a deep breath to temper her response. “Exactly. Because of proper sanitation and testing conventions, water collected from sources vulnerable to contamination, via fecal matter from nearby livestock or otherwise, rarely makes it into the market.” She turned to Alexa, trying to ignore the sour look on her face. “That
is why I strongly recommend going forward with the upgrade to a PCR thermal cycler. As I stated in my report, most pathogens reproduce rapidly in high temperatures, of high concern here in San Antonio.”

Her boss scowled and studied the figures on the spreadsheet. “The size of that expenditure is a hard one to swallow, given our current predicament.”

Greer pulled at his cuffs, a habit Juliet was coming to hate. “Well, the only solution I can ascertain is to postpone the QA department's equipment acquisition until Larimar cements this deal with Water Circus. We adjust these numbers to satisfy Montavan accordingly, keeping our bottom line solid and moving our partner to release the capital we need to go forward.”

Juliet tried to grab the conversation back. “But that doesn't take into account—”

Greer continued making his point despite her objection. “Certainly, when profits start rolling in from the realization of this significant marketing coup, I'm sure all things could be back on the table.”

Alexa dropped the finger she'd lifted to her mouth while listening. “I agree with Greer. Larimar Springs satisfies the minimum standards that are currently in place. That will have to be sufficient until we are in a position to reconsider.”

She stood, signaling the end of the meeting. Following suit, those around the table collected their files and prepared to head back to their offices.

Greer needled next to Alexa, chatting her up on the way out of the boardroom. Juliet hung back, following at the rear of the procession.

Months back, at the end of her job interview, Alexa had told her, “Consumer health and safety are at the very core of what we do today, and what Larimar Springs has always done.” She leaned over the desk and smiled. “We need a person of the highest caliber
coupled with state-of-the-art technologies to guide our product development and to ensure our water continues to be absolutely safe.”

Juliet was thrilled to join a company that felt like she did about food safety. At no time since coming on board had she doubted Larimar's priorities. Until today.

She tucked away her disappointment and headed for her office.

Certainly, her father had never taken her seriously. Now it seemed she had little credibility with Alexa Carmichael. Greer had seen to that.

When her father warned that corporations too often focused on the bottom line, short-sighting what was in the best interest of food safety, Juliet had taken issue with his pompous and misguided attitude, demanding he recognize the contribution corporations like Larimar Springs made to the scientific advancement of food safety.

Today, it seemed, the moment of truth had arrived.

No matter what Juliet had been led to believe, or how zealously she argued to the contrary, managing the risk of exposing consumers to foodborne illness was indeed subject to profit.

She'd thrown a fit that ended with her mother crumpled on the ground—in the end, a fit that never even mattered.

 15 

J
uliet returned from the lab to find Alexa Carmichael standing at her assistant's desk, her phone against her ear.

“Oh, good. There you are.” Alexa slipped her iPhone into her pants pocket.

“I'm sorry. I was meeting with my staff to let them know about the upcoming budget cuts.” Juliet gave the smug-faced temp a wary glance. Tavina would've texted and given her a heads-up. “Is there something you need?”

Alexa followed Juliet into her office. “I hoped you would join me for lunch.”

Surprised, Juliet turned. “Today?” She saw something flash through the eyes of her boss then, a look of respect.

“Yes. I know you just returned after a week away and must be swamped, but will your schedule allow you to slip away for a couple of hours?”

Alexa could have called or sent an email. Instead, she'd come to her office personally to extend the invitation. She warmed and gave her boss a slow smile. “Uh—sure. I'd like that.”

Her boss looked pleased. “We haven't really had time to talk—just the two of us—well, since the interview.” She checked the time on her Rolex. “Why don't you meet me in the lobby in, say, a half hour? I'll have Muriel book us at the University Club.”

Without waiting for Juliet to answer, Alexa's perfectly tinted lips lifted into a smile, and she turned for the door. “I'll drive,” she added, and then she was gone.

Juliet stared at the closed door, confused.
What just happened?

In the morning meeting, Alexa had shown no confidence in her recommendation and had sliced the budget by eliminating a key piece of equipment she believed necessary. Now, the businesswoman she most admired had turned cheek and wanted to take her to the University Club.

A tiny thrill slid up her spine. She'd never been to the University Club. And just wait until Greer Latham got word that she'd lunched with Alexa—alone.

Juliet mentally chastised herself. She'd gotten upset far too quickly in that meeting, again allowing her raw emotions to get the best of her. In the future, she'd need to recognize how depleted she felt after losing her mother.

Budget decisions had to be made, and unfortunately her department's needs for additional equipment were viewed as nonessential. Stepping back, Juliet might see how meeting the minimum standards could be considered sufficient by someone outside the food science community.

Besides, Alexa might be open to repositioning the proposed thermal cycler back into the budget as soon as Larimar Springs had met their capital needs for the expansion. A compromise Juliet knew would restore her credibility with the executive team.

A hint of a smile played at the edges of her mouth as she slid into her desk chair and clicked her mouse, opening her email. She scrolled through a number of messages, deleting some, moving several into folders for later action. Suddenly, a directive from the CDC appeared on the monitor, catching her attention.

The Centers for Disease Control and Prevention reports thirty-six patients in the San Antonio metro area with hemolytic uremic syndrome (HUS)—a type of kidney failure that is associated with
Shiga toxin–producing Escherichia coli (E. coli) infections—and three deaths associated with HUS.

The CDC is committed to isolating and eliminating the threat to the public as quickly as possible.

As of today, the CDC announces they have narrowed their investigation to less than a half dozen possible sources. Officials are monitoring the situation closely and are conducting tests to subtype the bacterial pathogen. The results of these tests are expected to identify a single origination point within the next forty-eight hours.

A further announcement will be made at that time.

Until then, anyone with severe stomach cramping, bloody diarrhea, or vomiting should seek medical attention immediately, especially children and the elderly.

Juliet swallowed as her priorities jerked back in line with her prior sensibilities. The numbers were growing. San Antonio was smack-dab in the middle of what was now considered a major foodborne illness outbreak.

She clicked over to a food safety chat forum she often monitored. The buzz had picked up. Clearly, members were nervous. And for good reason.

Findings from this outbreak would steer the course of consumer health mandates in the years ahead. Monitoring processes would be challenged and adjusted, and everyone in her profession would suffer closer scrutiny. Not that advancement in food systems was a bad thing. Food scientists everywhere wanted a safe environment in place.

From a public relations standpoint, any company responsible for an outbreak of this magnitude might as well hang a D
O
N
OT
E
AT
H
ERE
sign in their window. Even a hint of an outbreak would mean a close order and loss of profits.

Most of all, Juliet knew the public's confidence would significantly erode with every hour that passed without answers. Especially those in hospital waiting rooms.

Juliet clicked off the forum and closed down her laptop.

Thankfully, even without the thermal cycler, Larimar Springs had adequate monitoring in place, ensuring little risk for exposure to liability.

She grabbed her purse and headed for the door, never realizing that thought was her first mistake.