Corporate Cowboy. Pamela Bauer

What Austin lacked in people skills he made up for in acumen. And if his employees grumbled about the long hours and demanding work schedule, they never complained when he handed them their paychecks.

      Even his father was the first to admit that Austin had a talent for making money. His diversifying the family firm had increased profits enormously, allowing them to expand. Now instead of one plant in suburban Chicago there were five, scattered about the Midwest. Employees of Bennett Industries not only received good wages and benefits, but profit sharing in a company that was rapidly becoming one of the most successful firms in the country. Yet despite the monetary rewards, the turnover rate was high—so high that the board of directors had come up with a solution to the problem. A management seminar designed to teach Bennett employees cutting-edge team-building techniques.

      Austin had argued long and hard against the idea when it had been originally proposed and he still lobbied against it. At today’s board meeting when he had been overruled in his objections to the plan, he had announced that he wouldn’t be able to attend the seminar. His father had told him, in no uncertain terms, that it wasn’t optional.

      Austin swiveled his chair until he was facing the plate glass windows, looking out across the Chicago skyline. It didn’t matter that he had the title of CEO. His father still ran Bennett Industries.

      “It’s a foolish idea,” he mumbled.

      “It might not be as bad you think,” Jean consoled him in her motherly way.

      “I understand the psychology of sending employees on a trip to get away from the office, but why would anyone turn down a chance to sip cocktails in the Cayman Islands to play cowboy on the prairies of North Dakota?” he pondered as he stared at the city. “The prairie!” he repeated in disbelief. He twirled around so that he was once again facing her. “Have you ever been to North Dakota, Jean?”

      “No, but I hear it’s quite lovely.”

      He grunted. “If you like flat land and grass. When I was a kid my aunt and uncle took me to visit a cousin in Montana. Six of us in a station wagon loaded down with suitcases and games, seeing the USA in our Chevrolet.” He chuckled sardonically. “We drove for hours and saw nothing but a couple of grain elevators and a few clapboard buildings.”

      “It probably just seemed that way because you were a kid. Besides, that was a long time ago. I’m sure it’s changed since then. I believe I read recently that very little of the tall grass prairie remains.”

      “Well, maybe the tall grass isn’t there, but the land is still flat.”

      “At least you’ll have peace and quiet. And according to the brochure the accommodations are quite plush,” she said in her usual optimistic way. “The Triple J has an excellent reputation. You saw the profile they did on that news program.”

      “Yes, and unfortunately so did George Harbison, which is why he brought the idea to the board. He says it’s just what we need. Team building.” The words were muttered with disgust. “I can’t believe that roughing it out on the prairie is going to foster anything but irritability.”

      Jean hid her smile. “I wouldn’t call spending five nights in a private room with a hot tub roughing it. I’m sure it’s not going to be that bad.”

      “It’s a ranch, Jean, not a hotel. And I don’t see how pretending to be cowboys is going to teach any skills useful in the corporate world.”

      “I believe the brochure called it experiential learning. You learn to work with others in risk-tasking situations and ideally, learn about yourself.”

      Again Austin shook his head. “We need management strategies, not this touchy-feely crap. If you ask me, it’s pouring money down the drain. Why can’t everyone else see it for what it is?”

      “Oh, but it’s not wasted money. Didn’t you read the part about there being a money-back guarantee? They’re so certain of their results, they’ll refund your money if you’re not satisfied.”

      “Time is not refundable. I’m going to lose a week of work and I don’t think it’s a good idea to allow fifteen of our managers to be away from the office at the same time.”

      “You didn’t think it was a problem for all of them to be gone at the same time when they were all at the sales conference in Phoenix last winter,” she reminded him.

      “That was different.” He loosened his tie and undid the top button on his shirt. “Thank goodness for laptops and fax machines. At least I will be able to stay abreast of things through the Internet.”

      “Laptop? Isn’t that what this whole program is about—getting away from the phones and computers and fax machines? I thought I read that you aren’t supposed to bring any work with you?”

      “Jean, you know I go nowhere without my laptop. Do you realize how bored I would be if I didn’t bring work?”

      “I believe the Triple J has a full schedule for you.”

      He grunted. “I’m not going to do this cowboy number. If I have to get on a horse and take a trail ride to show everyone I’m a team member, fine. But while they’re all out mending fences or rounding up cattle or whatever else it is they’re going to rope people into doing, I’ll be in my room with my laptop.”

      Jean arched one eyebrow. “But the point of the getaway is to do just that—get away from the stress of your regular work.”

      “Work isn’t a stress for me, Jean. It’s people who give me stress. And I’m taking them with me.”

      “Well, hopefully you’ll come home with a better understanding of those people.”

      He sighed and leaned back in his chair. “You think this corporate retreat center is a good idea, don’t you?”

      “It’s not my place to advise you, Austin. But I do know that I’ve been with this firm for almost forty years and never have I seen a man who works as much as you do. Even if you get nothing else out of this, at least it will be time away from the office.”

      “I’d rather be here.”

      “Austin, you can’t work twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. Everyone needs a break from the office,” she chastised him gently in a tone only she could use. “Working the hours you do leaves little time for recreation. You haven’t had a vacation in four years—and don’t tell me that trip to Hong Kong with that fashion model was a vacation. You would have never gone had you not been able to close the deal with the fabric suppliers.”

      “I went to Jamaica last month.”

      “Business.”

      “London last April.”

      “Business. Austin, you need to give your mind a rest. You know what you should do? Take a few extra days when this retreat is over and visit those cousins in Montana. Forget about work. Forget about people. Just be free.”

      Austin rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “I’m not sure I know how not to work, Jean.”

      “Then maybe it’s time you learned. Wouldn’t it be nice to retrace that car trip you took as a child—go visit those cousins, see how they’ve changed? I bet they’d love to hear from you.”

      “I haven’t seen them in over twenty years,” he said wistfully. “I’m not sure they’re even in Montana anymore.”

      “Want me to do some checking?”

      “No, I shouldn’t even be gone for the week at the ranch.”

      Then, as she had done so often since his mother had died, Jean sat down across from him and leaned her arms on his desk, her voice taking on a familiar maternal tone. “You’re working too hard the way it is, Austin. I’m afraid one of these days I’m going to get a call saying you’ve worked yourself to exhaustion. Why don’t I look up the names of those cousins? At least you’ll have it with you and after the visit to the ranch if you find you want