...meanwhile Linda takes care of business at her job...
Linda sat tapping her index finger on a folder waiting for the rest of the crew to arrive at the meeting room.
Jane Steadham was there already, sipping coffee, looking through her owl-like glasses. In her fifties, she was in the department when Linda got there. She was comfortable in the self-contained job of being a buyer and didn’t have the stomach for management. She was an asset to Linda, as her suggestions focused on getting things right rather than her defects as a manager. If she screwed up, Jane would not be the one to replace her.
Maggie Draper was another matter. A few years younger than Linda, she also had a business degree from State. She was married and had a two-year old boy. Linda often studied Maggie thinking on the road not taken. Today Maggie looked like she was dragging, her short blonde hair still wet and her cotton dress limp, fashion a victim to practicality yet again. But she always seemed happy at work and her enthusiasm showed even through her weariness, as did her ambition. She was upfront about her desire to advance in the company, especially with the expense of a growing family.
The last member of the woman’s wear buying team, Rosalie Corvalis, sauntered in, smiling as she ended a conversation with someone outside the door. “Bye,” she shouted, her voice reverberating through the room causing Jane to hop in her seat. “Oops. Sorry,” she whispered.
Rosalie had a crown of black hair ending in a swirl across her chest like a vine of ivy exploring a wall. Her white blouse seemed a cut too small, her breasts overcoming the top three buttons. At least one of those buttons should be closed, Linda thought. Rosalie was the newest member of the team, coming up from sales. At twenty-five, she made her feel old. She was willing to do the job but always seemed to need a nudge to get started. Linda was already hoping she wouldn’t regret the hire.
“Let’s get started,” Linda said. Maggie volunteered to go first and began updating the team on her activity, starting with new vendors contacted and vetted.
Linda thought her department rivaled sales as most vital to the company. Without buyers to stock the store with merchandise, sales wouldn’t have a job. They ensured a steady stream of things to sell by being in constant contact with makers of clothes and accessories. There were thousands of vendors in the market, some well established, some new. They looked for dependable suppliers to provide quantity and quality at favorable prices.
Maggie had stopped talking. “Anything else?” Maggie nodded and began to list the items she recommended for purchase.
Linda interjected questions about volume price breaks and inventory on hand and Maggie fielded them expertly. Jane took notes, nodded her head and asked questions. Linda glanced at Rosalie who sat motionless. Her red lips, shaped in a permanent half smile, expanded when she noticed her look.
When Maggie finished, Jane made her report. She did so expertly but without Maggie’s enthusiasm. Then it was Rosalie’s turn. She didn’t have any new vendors, so she reported on her renewal orders. She touched the right issues, Linda thought, but without skill.
When the meeting broke up, Linda held her back to mention her blouse. It wasn’t business appropriate she told her, suggesting she fasten a button. She smiled gamely and tugged at it, inserting the button in the eye. As soon as she released it, it popped back out. “Oops. Sorry.”
“Maybe a size larger,” Linda mumbled, as she walked back to her office.
Chapter 4 will be posted December 6
Sunday, November 22, 2009
Saturday, November 7, 2009
Chapter 2: A Calling to Serve
...depicting Linda's boyfriend at work ...
The creases of Joseph’s blue coveralls were sharply pressed and the built-in belt cinched tight and flush against his flat stomach. He knew he cut a dashing figure in the oil change shop and had long since gotten used to catcalls from the other guys.
The advantages outweighed the trouble. The manager allowed him, clipboard in hand, to approach customers as they sat in their cars to take name and payment information. It didn’t hurt that he spoke English better than the others or that he presented a smiling friendly face to the clientele. He felt a cut above the rest and it brought a few dollars more an hour.
It was just after eight in the morning when the first rush of business came in. Three cars lined up in the driveway leading to the servicing bays.
The first was an old white Cadillac. The elderly man had gotten there early and had been sitting for half an hour. He was a regular. Joseph took down his license number, scribbling it in the appropriate box on the form. He moved to the driver window, greeting him professionally, verified his credit card number, then stepped away. The man drove to Bay Three where Hector waved him in.
The next vehicle drove up, a small black Nissan pick-up. The man was in his thirties and wore dark sunglasses. Routine. Carlos directed him into Bay Two. The third car though was something special. Through the tinted glass, Joseph saw blonde hair framing a face. It gleamed like gold in the sun.
He raised his hand, palm forward, and the driver stopped. “Please shift your car into park and put the handbrake on,” he called to her. He stepped in front of the car, his legs as though astride a mighty river. He looked over to Bay One. “Corvalis! Can you take another one?”
“Si, of course!”
Joseph scribbled on the form and went to the driver window. The blonde turned towards him, her large candy red sunglasses dwarfing her face. He smiled as his eyes sallied down to her cleavage.
“Name and address, please.” She told him and he said, “Stacy. That’s a nice name.” Her red lips betrayed the smallest twitch of pleasure. “I need to check your mileage,” he said, opening the door. She sat passively as he thrust his head into the compartment between her body and the dash. He noted smooth tan legs, tight white shorts and a bare midriff. He glanced at the odometer.
He stood erect and shut the door. “Bay One.” Corvalis waved her in and Joseph jogged behind as she positioned the Toyota sedan over the service slot. When she shut off the ignition, he opened the door. Her open-toed heels clattered onto the concrete floor as she got out and sashayed to the waiting room.
During the thirty minutes it took to service her car, Joseph made small gestures such offering more coffee or advising her how much longer it would take. When she left he smiled as he put a slip of paper in his pocket, a promise for another day.
They started closing down the shop at six, though they stayed open until seven. He climbed out of his coveralls, revealing a white t-shirt and jeans. He hung his work clothes neatly in his locker. He and the others were going for a beer. It wasn’t a bad job, he thought.
Chapter 3 will be posted on November 22.
The creases of Joseph’s blue coveralls were sharply pressed and the built-in belt cinched tight and flush against his flat stomach. He knew he cut a dashing figure in the oil change shop and had long since gotten used to catcalls from the other guys.
The advantages outweighed the trouble. The manager allowed him, clipboard in hand, to approach customers as they sat in their cars to take name and payment information. It didn’t hurt that he spoke English better than the others or that he presented a smiling friendly face to the clientele. He felt a cut above the rest and it brought a few dollars more an hour.
It was just after eight in the morning when the first rush of business came in. Three cars lined up in the driveway leading to the servicing bays.
The first was an old white Cadillac. The elderly man had gotten there early and had been sitting for half an hour. He was a regular. Joseph took down his license number, scribbling it in the appropriate box on the form. He moved to the driver window, greeting him professionally, verified his credit card number, then stepped away. The man drove to Bay Three where Hector waved him in.
The next vehicle drove up, a small black Nissan pick-up. The man was in his thirties and wore dark sunglasses. Routine. Carlos directed him into Bay Two. The third car though was something special. Through the tinted glass, Joseph saw blonde hair framing a face. It gleamed like gold in the sun.
He raised his hand, palm forward, and the driver stopped. “Please shift your car into park and put the handbrake on,” he called to her. He stepped in front of the car, his legs as though astride a mighty river. He looked over to Bay One. “Corvalis! Can you take another one?”
“Si, of course!”
Joseph scribbled on the form and went to the driver window. The blonde turned towards him, her large candy red sunglasses dwarfing her face. He smiled as his eyes sallied down to her cleavage.
“Name and address, please.” She told him and he said, “Stacy. That’s a nice name.” Her red lips betrayed the smallest twitch of pleasure. “I need to check your mileage,” he said, opening the door. She sat passively as he thrust his head into the compartment between her body and the dash. He noted smooth tan legs, tight white shorts and a bare midriff. He glanced at the odometer.
He stood erect and shut the door. “Bay One.” Corvalis waved her in and Joseph jogged behind as she positioned the Toyota sedan over the service slot. When she shut off the ignition, he opened the door. Her open-toed heels clattered onto the concrete floor as she got out and sashayed to the waiting room.
During the thirty minutes it took to service her car, Joseph made small gestures such offering more coffee or advising her how much longer it would take. When she left he smiled as he put a slip of paper in his pocket, a promise for another day.
They started closing down the shop at six, though they stayed open until seven. He climbed out of his coveralls, revealing a white t-shirt and jeans. He hung his work clothes neatly in his locker. He and the others were going for a beer. It wasn’t a bad job, he thought.
Chapter 3 will be posted on November 22.
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