Chapter Eight: Fear of Zero

                                   

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

                                                               

                                                           8

     Atom Green won last quarter but the new one meant starting equal in the race for numbers sprinkled with enriching commas. He overcame a momentary catch in the throat on the first call --paralysis through fear of zero-- before charm and technique powered him to a close. A carryover though was the parking spot labeled  “Salesman of the Quarter” in the underground garage. He parked his leased champagne-colored Mercedes coupe near the CEO’s limousine, which sat like an unused accessory. Unavoidable on the way to the elevator, he gave the fender a kick.
     He’d gotten into the habit of stopping in before his first call so as to become acquainted with staff outside of sales and learn what they knew. The best place was where the smokers congregated, out of doors in the wind tunnel between tall buildings. After squinty-eyed assessment, a chatty someone typically came forth to reveal much about the company in bullet-points -- due to standing, the wind or the smoker rhythm -- even before lighting up, which was fine since he didn’t smoke. He met Lola McIntyre there, but that morning found her in the break room.
     As he passed through the door, her eyes lit up beneath corkscrews twisted in her hair. She nudged a chair toward him and a playful tune jangled from the charms on her bracelet. “Sorry, no time.”
     “That’s not very friendly,” she teased, the words dripping like syrup from a greedy mouth as she ogled him in his sharp gray suit with royal blue tie. “I was going to tell you about the CEO’s condo and what he keeps there.”
     “Got a cigarette?”
     “A new hire in my department a month ago. The first day, he’s on her like that.” She snapped her fingers. “The company bought the condo. He transfers her there…working…for him…alone.”

     Regardless of snaps and pauses, he had an interest in the doings of Stephen Slade. Desire and dread jumbled his heart: if he were in that position, would he so casually alter people’s lives? “Pretty bold having the company pay.”
     “It’s for business, though I can’t say other things don’t go on.”
     “Monkey business. Tell me about her.”

     ”Young and pretty.”

      Women at work, women at home, women wherever the wealthy man goes, like flags staking out territory. Whether fun and flighty, sexy seducer or old-fashioned gold digger, men put women in a box then join them inside. He wanted to see and judge. Coming out of his thoughts, he noticed intensity in Lola’s eyes. “Helen Roy.”

                                                                 -ii-

     Soon after, Atom met Helen over lunch at Rico’s, with Lola making introductions. He pegged her age as half Slade’s and, dressed in designer jeans and sweater, more college student than executive assistant, or seducer. Her voice conveyed youthful enthusiasm.
     “’Atom’, like in physics? That’s funny.”

     “There’s a story behind it, and one day I’ll tell you.”

     “Tell us now!” They demanded. He feigned reluctance then complied.
     “My mother’s from Columbia, and my father was a contractor who’s away a lot, all over the world. That’s how they met. Well, he’s in Africa when she’s ready to deliver. She’s alone, without any family nearby, and gets herself to the hospital. Everything works out. When they ask my name for the birth certificate, she says ‘Neil Adam Green’. But she speaks with an accent and they write A-T-O-M.”
     “They should have known,” protested Lola.

     “By herself? The poor woman,” said Helen. “I would have been terrified. Why didn’t your parents correct it?”

     “Never got around to it, and I suffered. At the start of a new year, the teachers read the rolls and did double takes to confirm I was a little boy and not some science experiment. The kids called me ‘Atom Bomb’.”

     “Why didn’t you change it later?”
     “I got used to it, and it’s unique. Have you ever met an Atom?”

     “None I wasn’t attracted to.”
     “Are you positive?”

     They giggled; Lola looked confused. He thought Helen was friendly and pretty and interesting, but as lunch went on he grew angry at Slade’s audacity and, without telling scars, his imagination went wild; such power made him lightheaded and nauseous.
     “Don’t you find it odd isolated in a condo working for an insurance company?”
     She shrugged. “It’s not what I expected, though I like being creative. Maybe that doesn’t go with insurance either. I really don’t know”

     “Must be nice at the top.”
     “There’s a great view of the city.”
     “I’d like to see,” interjected Lola.

     Helen hesitated. “Stephen wouldn’t care for that. He doesn’t say ‘Don’t bring anyone up’ but… I…it just wouldn’t feel right.”
     “Does he take you out?” said Lola.
     “No”
     “Not yet,” said Lola under her breath.
     The tops of Helen’s ears turned red and she stared daggers at the older woman. “I said 'No.'”
     Atom felt bad and wanted to get past the sticky moment. He grandly slapped his credit card to the check and pushed it to the table’s edge, but Helen snatched up the ticket, calculated her share and added a twenty. Lola fumbled in her purse then followed suit.
     Afterwards, Helen led the way to the lobby of the Wayfare Hotel. Atom caught up to her as she was pushing the button for the elevator. "Maybe we can do this again.”
     The bell sounded, the doors opened and she went inside. On turning around, despite pursed lips and knitted brows, Atom thought she exuded a beautiful radiance. The doors closed as Lola came up. “Too bad.”
     Undeterred, he spoke through the doors, “If not today, tomorrow then.”

 

The characters and events in this story are fictitious and do not represent any living person or real event.