“But not unaffected,” her mother stated, noticing the strangeness in her daughter’s eyes.
“No, Mother, not unaffected. There will be no wedding.” Before that lovely woman could reply, Casperdan turned to her father. “Dad, I want the contract of Control. I intend to begin as director of the firm eight o’clock tomorrow morning. No, better make it noon … I’ll need some sleep.” She was smil-
127
WITH FRIENDS LIKE THESE …
ing faintly. “And I don’t think I’m going to get any right now.”
On that she was right. Dandavid, that usually even-tempered but mercurial gentleman, got very, very excited. Between his bellows and her sobs, her mother leveled questions and then accusations at her.
When they found out about the incipient changeover, the investors immediately threatened to challenge it in court—law or no law, they weren’t going to be guided by the decisions of an inexperienced snippet. In fact, of all those affected, the intended bridegroom took it best. After all, he was handsome and intelligent (if not as rich), and could damn well find himself another spouse. He wished Casperdan well and consoled himself with his cello.
Her father (for her own good, of course) joined with the investors to challenge his daughter in the courts. He protested most strongly. The investors ranted and pounded their checkbooks.
But the judge was honest, the law machines incorruptible, and the precedents clear. Casperdan got her Contract and a year in which to prove herself.
Her first official action was to rename the firm Dream Enterprises. A strange name, many thought, for an industrial concern. But it was more distinctive than the old one. The investors grumbled, while the advertising men were delighted.