by Mac Flynn
"And you didn't tell me your full name and occupation," he countered.
"Point taken, but we may as well cut to the chase. For the question you've been trying to ask me all evening, the answer is no."
He blinked in bewilderment. "What's the question?"
"I'm not going out with you."
"But why not?" he wondered. "Am I ugly? Abusive? Too rich?"
"No, no, and there's no such thing."
"Then why the rejection?" He grabbed hold of Mr. Smith off the couch and held the poor thing by the armpits. "Even your cat likes me, so what's not there to like?" Mr. Smith hissed and clawed the man's hand. Alex yelped and dropped the cat, who scurried away. "Or maybe I was wrong about him. . ." Alex mumbled as he held his injured hand.
I sighed and took his hand in mine to look at the wound. "You rub somebody the wrong way you're bound to get scratched."
He chuckled, but it didn't sound happy. "So how'd I rub you the wrong way?"
"By what you said earlier about the merger. That's going to need some peroxide."
"The merger?" he guessed.
"No, the scratch. The merger needs to stop or a lot of good people are going to lose their jobs."
He shook his head. "If the merger doesn't happen then a lot of good people are going to lose their jobs." I raised an eyebrow, and he was puzzled. "Don't you know?"
I hated guessing games. "I don't know a lot of things, and one of them is what the hell you're talking about," I snapped back.
"The department store is almost bankrupt. If the merger doesn't go through then you're all out of a job." I paled and swayed back.
Alex caught me before I fell and lowered me to the couch. "Now you look like you could use a doctor, or a hard drink. Do you have anything stiff here?" he asked me.
I waved my hand toward the kitchen. "Some whiskey in the lazy-susan." Alex hurried over to the kitchen and found the glasses and alcohol. He put together two drinks and handed me one. I took a sip and choked. "Any water in this?" I squeaked out.
"Not a drop. I figured you'd need it straight."
"Straight to the grave," I quipped as I set down the strong tonic on the coffee table. I sat up and gathered my wits. "But you were saying something about imminent doom for everyone at the store?"
"The store's going bankrupt, that's why the merger's happening," he repeated.
My shoulders slumped. "That's what I was afraid you'd said."
"Only a quick influx of cash will save it, and my family's company can give it that," he explained to me. "It'll also need new management, and my family can handle that, too."
"You've got a large family," I replied.
He smirked. "My parents wanted to make sure they had enough spare heirs to ensure the family continued, so I have five other siblings."
"All girls?" I teased.
"Worse. Four boys and a girl."
I shuddered. "My condolences to your poor mother."
He laughed. "I wouldn't feel sorry for her if I was you. She's a tough woman, and didn't have any trouble raising us hellions."
"I'm sure you raised hell yourselves," I joked, and then sighed. "But jokes aside, this is really bad. We all knew the store didn't have as much business as a few years ago, but it wasn't that bad."
"It's the bad management," he told me. "They wasted a lot of money on pet projects, so with the merger we're demanding a lot of control. If we kept them in charge the merger would have been signed-"
"-and the whole thing would have happened all over again with them making the place go bankrupt anyway," I finished for him.
"Exactly. We're hoping by putting it in with some of our other department stores in the city we can make it more efficient and bring down costs."
"But it sounds like it isn't the costs, it's the management," I argued. "If you just got rid of them then things would turn around."
"My family treats it as a business, and in business the bottom line is top priority," he insisted.
I frowned and stood up. "This isn't just business, these are my friends. A lot of them have worked for a long time at the store and deserve a better send-off than a pink slip."
"You think my family's cold and heartless for doing this merger, but we're at least saving a few of you," he countered. "Without us there wouldn't even be that many."
"So what do you want? A gold star? How are you going to choose who stays and who goes, huh? Have them draw lots and step up to the block?"
"Seniority, of course. It's the easiest way," he told me.
"But does that tell you anything about the person? We've had a lot of young people hired in the last year or so who deserve spots better than others," I pointed out.
Alex stood and towered over me with a scowl on his face. "Listen, I don't pretend to know all the people in the store. I tried to meet with most of them, or at least the ones who worked today. I know there's a lot of nice people working there, but we just can't save them all. My family's thought about this long and hard, and there's just no other way other than the merger."
"Then think longer and harder because I can't go out with a guy who's going to lay off my friends." Mr. Smith jumped back onto the couch and I grabbed him by the armpits as Alex had done earlier. I held the cat out in front of me, and he hissed and spat, both at Alex and at my treatment of him. "Now get out or I'll use my cat on you." I rattled Mr. Smith at Alex, and the man hurriedly backed up.
"Can't we just agree to disagree?" he pleaded.
"Out. Now. Don't think I don't know how to use this cat." I shook Mr. Smith again, and the tortured animal wiggled and hissed.
Alex stumbled backwards to the door and fumbled for the handle before he got it open. "How about I call you tomorrow and we can talk?"
"OUT!"
Alex jumped out into the hall, I dropped Mr. Smith who skittered away, and then I slammed the door shut. All was quiet for a moment and the full force of what I'd just done fell on my shoulders like a sack of soggy flour. It oozed all over my conscience and left me feeling like I needed a bath. "What have I done?" I quietly asked myself. I sighed and glanced back at Mr. Smith who sulked on the arm of the couch. "And I even brought you into this. I'm sorry I had to do that to you, Mr. Smith, but I was kind of desperate." He flicked his tail toward the kitchen.. "Fine, I'll give you a little can of cat food, but don't expect this kind of treatment every night. Besides, I don't think he's going to be coming back, so you won't need to do that again."
I felt a little twinge in my chest when I spoke that last comment out loud. Probably because it was true, and a little part of me didn't quite want it to be. Then the closet door burst open and all the junk spilled out into the living room. What a day.
Chapter 6
My guilt didn't let me sleep well and I came to work the next day in a cranky mood. My mood wasn't helped when Stouten came up to me just before lunch with a big order to be moved from the warehouse to one of the department doors. "The toy department wants twelve of their crates moved to their door in an hour," he ordered me.
I shut off Sam, leaned over the controls, and stared at him disbelievingly. "How am I supposed to do that in ten minutes?"
"What does ten minutes have to do with it?" he snapped.
"That's all I have until lunch," I reminded him.
"Then I guess you're going to have to wait to stuff your face because they need that stuff now."
"You can't do that. It's against union rules," I pointed out.
"Does it look like I care?" Stouten countered.
I couldn't accurately describe his face without using inappropriate adjectives, but I could argue against his order. "Why don't you go ask somebody else to do it? Phil's not on lunch until one," I suggested.
"I'm not going to go looking for that idiot, now stop wasting my time and go do it," he commanded as he thrust an arm in the direction of the toy department. "Now get moving.
I shut off my machine and hopped off it. "You get moving because I'm not going to do it," I shot back.
"I said you can go do it yourself because I'm going on my lunch break in-" I glanced at my watch, "-five minutes."
Stouten stomped up to me and towered over my short frame. "While you're on my floor you're on my time, girly. You think you can do anything now that the new boss likes you, don't ya? Well, he's not here to help ya out, and so long as I'm in charge of this place you'll be following my orders, got it?"
"No, I missed everything after 'girly.' Could you repeat the rest but with a little less stupid?" I asked him.
Things were going to turn as ugly as his face until Jamie's head popped out of some boxes down the corridor. "Georgie, you ready for lunch? You promised me your sandwich," she sweetly called.
Stouten stiffened and swung around. He wasn't pleased to see a witness to his brutality, verbal or physical, and his hot air deflated. He scurried off like a scared mouse, though with one last mean look at me over his shoulder. Jamie stepped up to me with a bright, mischievous smile on her face. I turned to her with a raised eyebrow. "I don't remember making a lunch date with you."
"It looked like you needed to be rescued, and that was the best excuse I could come up with," she sheepishly admitted.
I grinned and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "Have I ever told you you're evil?"
"A few times, but always when I did something wrong," Jamie replied.
"Well, this time you did something right and probably saved me from getting fired. Maybe he and I will have time to cool off over our lunch, but you know where Phil is? He has a toy order to fill."
We found Phil and dropped off my chore on him, but he had an unpleasant message for me. "I was just going to look for you. Mullen wants to talk to you," he told me.
Jamie and I glanced at each other. We were both thinking of the trouble with Stouten. "What for?" I asked him.
"He said you'd know what for." Phil left me with that enigmatic answer to deliver those toys.
"You think it's about the fight with Stouten?" Jamie whispered to me.
I shrugged. "Probably. I can't think of anything else it'd be about. I'll find out after I park my forklift."
"Park your forklift? But it's your lunch break," Jamie pointed out.
"Just in case the worst happens. How about you meet me in the break room and we'll either celebrate or have a teary goodbye."
I returned to my forklift and parked my machine in its place like I do for closing time, jumped down and tossed my gloves on the seat. If all went well I'd only be reprimanded, but if I was getting the ax then at least I had my machine put away. I climbed into the office elevator which carried me up to Mullen's office near the top floor of the department store. Several low-level paper-pushers had offices on that same floor, and I had to go to the back of the place to find his office. It was guarded by a secretary who I found filing her claws down to fine points. When I stepped up to the desk the secretary sniffed the air and glanced up at me with a look of disdain. I still had my coveralls on and the lovely scents of grease and oil permeated the air. "May I help you?" she spoke up in a nasally voice.
"My name's Trammel. Mr. Mullen wanted to see me," I told her.
She wrinkled her nose and hurriedly called in to his office. "Sir, a Miss Trammel is here to see you." Her eyes widened and her voice filled with surprise. "Yes, sir. I'll tell her, sir." She put the phone down and looked at me with confusion and newfound respect. I would have rather had the disdain, that made sense. "He'll be right out if you'd like to take a seat."
I raised an eyebrow. "He's coming out to see me?" I asked her. She dumbly nodded her head. "I'm guessing this doesn't happen very often?" The secretary shook her head. Seeing as I wasn't going to have a riveting conversation with her any time soon, I took a seat on a few cushioned chairs against the wall close to the door that led into his office.
Mullen came out a minute or two later, saw me and hurried over. He clasped one of my hands in both of his and gave it a hearty shake. I was glad when he returned it in one piece. "Good afternoon, Miss Trammel. Won't you step into my office?" I was very confused. This didn't seem like the man ready to toss me out for insubordination. I followed Mullen into his office and he locked the door behind us. "A little extra precaution for this special conversation," he told me.
"I'm not sure it's that special, sir." Surely he fired people at least once a week.
"Nonsense, this is too important to be overheard or interrupted." He gestured to a chair in front of his large oaken desk and took the large seat on the other side. "I'm sure you know why you're here."
"I-I think so," I hesitantly replied.
"Then I'm sure you understand how important this is for the company that you keep yourself in line."
"In line?"
"That you keep a professional appearance with him at all times," Mullen rephrased.
"I try, sir, but some days he's very difficult to work with," I protested.
Mullen raised an eyebrow. "You see him that often?" he wondered.
I blinked in bewilderment. Of course I saw my boss a lot. "Most every day. It's kind of hard to avoid him."
"In a professional relationship or personal?"
Now this was starting to get weird. "Professional," I assured him.
"And he's made no-ahem, no advances on you?"
That was the camel that broke my back. "On second thought maybe I don't think I know why I'm here. Isn't this about my fight with Stouten?" I asked him.
Mullen started back and his eyes widened. "No, I was speaking of Mr. Brenton's fondness for you," he replied.
"His what?"
"How he was eager to reacquire your acquaintance the other day," Mullen diplomatically explained to me. "It's very important for the company that you not make a bad impression on him, and that you keep to professional rules of conduct."
"I think I'm totally lost. What about me and Al-Mr. Brenton?"
"I'll put it bluntly. The board and I wish for you to keep on good terms with him to secure the merger," Mullen told me.
My mouth slowly dropped open until it hit the floor. At that point my blood boiled to a temperature just shy of volcano and I jumped to my feet. "You want to tell me how to deal with people in my personal life just so you can finish a business deal?"
Mullen leaned back and frowned. "Truth be told, Miss Trammel, if this merger doesn't go through than we may all lose our jobs. You see, the company is just about bankrupt, and our only hope in saving it is this merger." I glanced around the room at the expensive artwork, overpriced chairs and even a fancy stapler, and I could see how it was going belly-up. "So you see why all our employees need to keep on the best of terms with Mr. Brenton, seeing as he's the representative of both the company and the family."
"I see a lot of things, but I'm not going to let you guys decide who I can be nice to," I protested. "I'll be polite to him while I'm at work, but if I see him on the street and he makes a pass at me then I'm going to tell him to go to hell and take his company with him."
Mullen was flabbergasted at my refusal. "You don't seem to understand what's at stake here, Miss Trammel."
"I understand perfectly, but I'm not going to be nice to a guy who's got more money than brains. If that's all you brought me up here to listen to then you starved me for nothing and I'm going back downstairs to eat my lunch."
I stormed out of there, or at least tried to. I unlocked the door and shoved it open, but it hit something and bounced back. The same can't be said for the secretary who hit the floor and didn't bounce back up. I glared down at her and she scurried to her feet. She stuttered out some excuse, but I stomped past her and down the hall to the elevators. My escape was interrupted when someone hurried out of a side bathroom and collided into me.
I would have fallen on my butt except that a pair of strong and familiar arms caught me around the waist and lifted me back on my feet. I looked up into Alex's smiling face. "You're trying really
hard to put me on worker's disability," I quipped.
"We do seem to meet when disaster strikes," he agreed without letting me go.
I pointed down at his arms. "Mind releasing me into the wild so I can go forage for food?"
"Not until you let me apologize for last night. I said a couple of things I shouldn't have," he replied.
"A couple?" I countered.
"All right, a few sentences, but I'm trying to apologize for them. Isn't that something?"
I glanced over his sincere face and sighed. "All right, I accept, but on one condition."
"What's that?"
"You let me go."
"Oh, no problem." He released me and I smoothed out the wrinkles in my coveralls until I remembered they didn't smooth out. "So all is forgiven?" he asked me.
I shrugged. "I guess I kind of made a fool of myself last night, too. I shouldn't have been so quick to threaten you with Mr. Smith."
"I hope he wasn't permanently traumatized by the incident."
"No, but he won't let me pick him up."
"Mr. Smith doesn't know what he's missing."
"Well, anyway, my Jimminy Cricket got to me last night and I just want to say I'm sorry about some of the things I said," I finished.
"Your what?" he asked me.
"My conscience. I felt bad about tossing you out like that, but I guess you got a look at my temper."
"At least your heart was in the right place. That's what's important," he pointed out. "And that's what my family is trying to do here. If you don't believe me then come with me to dinner tonight."
"What does dinner have to do with your-" My question was interrupted by an overly eager shout.
"Mr. Brenton! What a pleasant surprise this is!" Mullen's voice spoke up behind me. I half turned and had trouble hiding my glare at the businessman. He hurried up to us and his smile was so sweet I felt a cavity coming on just looking at it. "Are there any troubles with the merger?"
Alex shook his head. "No troubles, I was just browsing through the offices."
"Again?" Mullen wondered. "If you need another tour of the place I'd be glad to-"
"No, it's fine. I was just leaving. Weren't you also going down the elevator, Miss Trammel?" he asked me.
"What? Oh, yeah, I have to go meet a friend."
Alex guided me down the hall and into the elevator. I was glad for the escape because Mullen gave me a pointed glance that had a stern warning in it. My spirited refusal had done nothing to change his demands of me, and I wondered if my employment with the company would last long enough for me to see the merger go through.
