MORE OF SOMETHING MORE,
a story about a salesman trying to establish himself,
a CEO scheming to buy out his father's influence
and the woman important to each
2
Stephen
Slade descended on the Billing Department and scanned the room for Helen’s
workstation. After the budget meeting and intractable cost figures in black and
red, what lay before seemed manageable. He wandered down an aisle of cubicles
with the four-foot walls, which partially hid occupants and imperfectly
contained their conversation.
As
he continued down the aisle, the staff became aware of his presence and created
a calm before and after his progress. Conversations were muffled and aisles
cleared. Dark-haired Mimosa Liang popped her head up, saw the CEO and dropped
back down. Lola McIntyre, on her way to the break room, rushed to her desk and
affected a preternatural stillness so as to hear every word. Coming to the end
of the aisle, he started up the next then found her.
Head
tilted reading, her auburn hair parted to reveal the pale nape of her neck. She
wore a lavender dress with yellow-flower patterns and black flats. He stood
silently a moment, and then another before coughing for attention. On lifting
her head, her eyes widened with surprise.
“Let’s
go for coffee,” he said, looking down on her and trying to match her to his
recollection of their earlier meeting. “I want to talk to you.” Obediently she
stood to follow him out. With relief, the staff surfaced to watch them go, none
more excited than Lola who punched her co-worker. “Do you see?” Mimosa rubbed her throbbing shoulder.
They took the elevator to the skyway and walked across to the Wayfare Hotel. His stride was long and purposeful and he was annoyed when he noticed her skipping beside. Then seated at the restaurant, he realized how young she looked: bright, unassuming eyes, hair sweeping across her brow and down the shoulders to rub away sharp angles. Soft and vulnerable, she had to be half his age and not many years older than his teenage boys.
“Do you take every new employee to coffee? I mean I’m flattered. It’s just that I don’t want the others to think---“
“Do you take it black?”
“I like green tea.”
“In the course of running the company sometimes tasks present themselves that don’t fit any job description. Things just need doing. As CEO I have to find the right people and fit them to the task. That’s why I asked you here.”
The waitress delivered their drinks. Slade ignored the cup before him while Helen breathed in the aroma of her tea. His rising voice recaptured her attention.
“Would you say you’re persuasive?”
“Getting people to do what they don’t want; like that?”
“Everybody wants to make money and, explained in the right way, they’ll understand. Can you help people gain clarity and understanding?”
“I don’t get it. If you’re talking about insurance, I’m just learning.”
“Think bigger, about wealth and infinite possibilities. Don’t you want that?”
Helen sipped at her tea, then set down the cup. He sensed her mood had shifted: her eyes were hooded and downcast. He was being too abstract, not getting his point across. “I have a condo here---“
“Don’t you have a house and family?”
“I’m not talking about that.”
“Maybe you should be.” She slid out of her seat and left him looking at the wall. He clubbed the table with his fist. “A CEO doesn’t beg.” When he returned to the office he drafted a memo to Human Resources.
They took the elevator to the skyway and walked across to the Wayfare Hotel. His stride was long and purposeful and he was annoyed when he noticed her skipping beside. Then seated at the restaurant, he realized how young she looked: bright, unassuming eyes, hair sweeping across her brow and down the shoulders to rub away sharp angles. Soft and vulnerable, she had to be half his age and not many years older than his teenage boys.
“Do you take every new employee to coffee? I mean I’m flattered. It’s just that I don’t want the others to think---“
“Do you take it black?”
“I like green tea.”
“In the course of running the company sometimes tasks present themselves that don’t fit any job description. Things just need doing. As CEO I have to find the right people and fit them to the task. That’s why I asked you here.”
The waitress delivered their drinks. Slade ignored the cup before him while Helen breathed in the aroma of her tea. His rising voice recaptured her attention.
“Would you say you’re persuasive?”
“Getting people to do what they don’t want; like that?”
“Everybody wants to make money and, explained in the right way, they’ll understand. Can you help people gain clarity and understanding?”
“I don’t get it. If you’re talking about insurance, I’m just learning.”
“Think bigger, about wealth and infinite possibilities. Don’t you want that?”
Helen sipped at her tea, then set down the cup. He sensed her mood had shifted: her eyes were hooded and downcast. He was being too abstract, not getting his point across. “I have a condo here---“
“Don’t you have a house and family?”
“I’m not talking about that.”
“Maybe you should be.” She slid out of her seat and left him looking at the wall. He clubbed the table with his fist. “A CEO doesn’t beg.” When he returned to the office he drafted a memo to Human Resources.
- ii -
Weepy and with runny nose, Helen
tried to stifle her fears, but every look at the yellow memorandum brought a
flood of tears. It ordered her to report for the position of Assistant to the
Executive for Special Projects. Without an option to decline or consideration
that she hadn’t made the request, it left her feeling helpless. She renewed her tears.
Rounding the corner and entering the cubicle,
Lola pushed a square box into Helen’s hands. The tissue peeking out the top
looked like a white flame, which she pulled to daub her eyes. Grateful to her co-worker yet wary of the
gossip who hunted the latest news, she pointed to the memo. Lola took it up.
"It’s got to mean more money.”
“For what?”
“You’ll find out.”
Helen gazed at the older woman who had taken the corner chair and played with the memo like a toy, of interest today and forgotten tomorrow. Was she so used to orders that this didn’t seem unusual, or had she that much faith in the CEO? She worried about what Stephen Slade had in mind, but understood it was that job or no job.
Next day she reported to executive reception wearing a too-large gray suit that hid her curves and covered her knees. With hair pulled back severely and knotted at the neck, her only makeup was a subtle rose gloss to the lips. The receptionist buzzed the intercom to announce her arrival then pushed the button opening the elevator. On the way up the slow and steady hum pronounced its labor, as if digesting her. When the compartment settled and the doors opened Slade stood behind his desk, his eyes upon her with too intense a focus. Her face went numb. She walked toward him.
"It’s got to mean more money.”
“For what?”
“You’ll find out.”
Helen gazed at the older woman who had taken the corner chair and played with the memo like a toy, of interest today and forgotten tomorrow. Was she so used to orders that this didn’t seem unusual, or had she that much faith in the CEO? She worried about what Stephen Slade had in mind, but understood it was that job or no job.
Next day she reported to executive reception wearing a too-large gray suit that hid her curves and covered her knees. With hair pulled back severely and knotted at the neck, her only makeup was a subtle rose gloss to the lips. The receptionist buzzed the intercom to announce her arrival then pushed the button opening the elevator. On the way up the slow and steady hum pronounced its labor, as if digesting her. When the compartment settled and the doors opened Slade stood behind his desk, his eyes upon her with too intense a focus. Her face went numb. She walked toward him.
The next chapter will be posted by
The characters and events in this story are fictitious and do not represent any living person or real event.
