by Ali Parker
“Mom.” He giggled. “I’m not old enough to party.”
I smirked. “Oh, yeah. How about dinner and a movie then?”
“Yessss,” he said.
“But you have to finish that first.” I pointed at his work.
“Aw, okay.” He pouted. “I’m almost done.”
“Good,” I said. “I’ll get dinner started. How does spaghetti sound?”
“It’s my favorite.”
“I love you, little man,” I said.
“I love you too.”
I got up from the table and went into the kitchen, pulling down the ingredients for dinner. Sometimes, all it took was a little hug from my son to remind me why I put up with days like today. We struggled sometimes, my salary not being what I needed it to be, but he never knew that, and I wanted to keep it that way. He deserved a good life, and that was what I was determined to give him. I may have been young when he was conceived, but I had taken him on and never looked back, even when his father had bolted. Regardless of what Elon Truitt did to dampen my spirits, it was Friday, and I was finally going to take a breather.
Chapter 3
Elon
The hot water running over me during my shower felt so good after a Saturday morning run by the water. I had gotten up early and gone out, wanting to clear my head and really think things through. It had been one hell of a week at work, and I was left with anger and frustration that Clayton was trying to push me out of the company. It was my company, something I had built from the ground up, and I wasn’t going to let some old windbag come along and take it right out from under me. I knew with him at the head of the ranks, it would never be the same again, and I couldn’t let that happen.
I got out of the shower and dried off, wrapping the towel around my waist and heading into my bedroom. I pulled out some comfortable clothes and set them on the bed, but before I could get dressed, my phone rang. I walked over and looked down, smiling at the name on the screen. It was my friend, Marcus, who I hadn’t talked to in a few days. I picked up the phone and put it to my ear.
“Well, hello there, stranger,” I said.
“Hey, how did golfing go?”
“I was terrible.” I laughed.
“Terrible? You’ve been golfing since you were in diapers.”
“Yeah, but the owner of Cartier didn’t need to know that,” I said. “He needed to feel like he was in control, and what better control do you feel than when you’re winning?”
“True.” Amusement deepened his voice.
“I have to say, though, it was a struggle for me to be that bad. The man is a terrible golfer.”
“He probably has people who hold the club for him.” He laughed aloud.
“His clubs did seem brand new,” I pointed out. “So, what’s up?”
“I was up at the gym this morning, and I thought about how I hadn’t talked to you in a few days,” he said. “I figured I’d call and make sure you were still alive and well.”
“I am alive,” I said.
“Uh-oh,” he replied. “How about we get some lunch and go over all the gory details of what makes you sound unsure about your wellness?”
“That sounds like a perfect idea,” I said. “The normal pub?”
“Sounds good,” he said. “Be there in twenty.”
I hung up the phone and pulled out some jeans and a T-shirt, and brushed my teeth. I looked up into the mirror and shook my head, feeling like I had aged overnight. My company, or rather the board associated with my company, was quickly sucking the life out of me. I grabbed my wallet and put on my shoes to head out of the house. The pub wasn’t far away, and I had been needing a beer since Friday night. When I got there, I grabbed a seat at the end of the bar and waited for Marcus. My mind was pretty spotty at that point, the events from the day before weighing heavily on it, but I wanted to keep my spirits up, especially since I hadn’t seen him in a while.
Marcus was my best friend, the guy I could go to for just about anything. We had met during our freshman year in college and had known immediately we would be close friends. We did everything together, making sure we became roommates the next year as well. He was more grounded than I was and very motivated in his career. He worked in the tech world but did marketing workups for a while before landing that position. He was incredibly talented in everything he attempted to do and was currently pushing to work himself up in the tech company he was with. He didn’t need the money. He had heavily invested in the cryptocurrency world early on and had sold when the prices had reached in the tens of thousands, but still, he wanted to make sure his career was always on track. I had gone straight into the business world, and at that point, I wished I had paid more attention to his tech insider advice.
I looked up as he walked through the door, waving him over and signaling to the bartender. He smiled as he walked over, shaking my hand and giving me a hug. It was good to see him, good to be around people who cared about me.
“Hey, buddy,” he said, pulling his chair up. “How are you?”
“I’m alive.” I laughed.
“There it is again. What’s going on?”
“I don’t want to start out with depressing news,” I said, taking a drink of my beer.
“I’d rather get it out of the way at the beginning.” He laughed.
I tilted my head in reluctant agreement. “All right. I got called to a board meeting yesterday after landing a Cartier contract.”
“You finally got them,” he said, clinking his glass against mine.
“Yeah.” I chuckled. “Anyway, the board said it was too little too late and voted to knock me out as CEO. Fortunately, they came to another option that includes me personally working on the Cartier ad, and if it sinks, so do I.”
“Wow,” he said. “I’m actually surprised the board is trying to run you out, to be honest. Those people always seemed really loyal to you. They’ve pretty much all been there from the beginning.”
“Oh, I don’t know. I think they’re still loyal, which is why I have this chance to prove myself,” I said. “The biggest problem is Clayton Hayward. He’s had it out for me since I voted against adding him to the board. He’s old money and has made it a mission of his to gain control of Truitt Marketing. The numbers have gone down significantly over the past two years. I knew that, but I wasn’t worried. Numbers fluctuate all the time, and with the current economic roller coaster we’ve been on, it didn’t surprise me a bit that it was happening. Companies are cutting budgets, creating in-house marketing sectors to save money. They’ve only recently begun to come back out in the open.”
“Surely, the board recognizes this,” Marcus said.
“Yes and no,” I said. “Yes, from a business standpoint, but Clayton has a strong pull on them, especially since becoming the speaker for the group. All he’s focusing on is the numbers, not the real reasoning behind it. Instead of placing blame on the general economic structure, he’s placing all of it on my head. He made sure our projections for each quarter didn’t reflect what the market is proposing. Therefore, I’m in a lose-lose no matter what I do.”
“I get it,” he said. “So that’s what you’re working with. There’s nothing you can do, and it sounds like exposing that will only make his case stronger, so you have to stop looking at the faults and where they lie and start figuring out how to get around that. Being more hands-on is not a bad thing, especially in your own company. Not only will it build confidence in you as a leader, but it will increase the quality of work being put out.”
“I know,” I said. “I just thought I had it in a sweet spot.”
“You’ve always had a tendency to let things work themselves out.” He smiled. “That’s just how you roll, and up to this point, you’ve been lucky. You have a voice, though, and that voice could really help the company move in the direction you want.”
“I don’t know if my voice is really that strong.” I chuckled.
“You would be surprised what can happen when a leader
leads,” he said. “You can look at some of the biggest companies out there and see how their profitability increases as new CEOs take the helm. They always start out hands-on and that always pushes the sales and productivity. If you did that all the time, you could see a big change within the ranks.”
“Maybe you’re right. I really have lost touch with all the processes on the floor, and just that could be damaging,” I said.
“Of course, it could be,” he said. “You may see things from your experiences in the field that would make those processes more efficient and more conducive to an artistic atmosphere. I mean face it, you are the business end, but those people out on the floor are pure creativity and technical ability. How good are your ideas when you feel like you’re drudging against the system instead of with it?”
“Not very good,” I said. “You’ve always been a whiz at seeing these things. I still don’t know why you didn’t go into creative marketing instead of tech. You really had a knack for it back in the day. You should come work for me, bring that talent back to the surface. I think you could really do big things in that world and for the company.”
“Aw, man, I really love tech,” he said. “It’s how my mind works. I see it all like you see numbers.”
“It would only be for a few designs,” I said. “You could blow this Cartier ad out of the water.”
“I appreciate it, man,” he said, smiling. “But I’m dedicated to my position at E-Ron. I’ve been really kicking ass there, and I have goals for the next five years, goals the CEO knows about. I think it won’t be long until I make my way up in that world.”
“I understand,” I said. “You need to be where your blood is pumping, just the same as me out there with you. I could get it, maybe even be good at it, but I wouldn’t love it, not like I love what I do now.”
“You’ll get it,” he said. “Just get out there and really do what you love to do. I know it’s not the client-building you love. That is not at all why you built the company. Sure, you’re good at it, you have the personality for it, but that doesn’t mean it’s the right place for you. There are plenty of young charismatic people out there who could do that part. You just have to trust in that and open yourself up to the company more.”
Marcus had always been my go-to guy at the beginning, spending long nights in my penthouse, thinking of amazing new ideas for marketing different products. He had always been the silent weapon I held back for rainy days. But he was right, obviously. Regardless of the reason, things were not going how they needed to be going for the company. In order to change that, I had to get my ass out of that office, off the golf course, and into the field.
“You’re the brightest and most well-articulated person I know,” Marcus said. “If anyone can be an amazing leader, it’s you. Your personality coupled with your knowledge of the field is a killer combination that you can’t lose with.”
He was right, and I think I had already known that. It just took him saying it to bring that confidence back out in me. I had put my life into Truitt Marketing. I had spent thousands of hours creating it from the ground up, positioning it perfectly, and in a way, I had gotten lazy. It was time I stopped that trend. It was time I took control of my own company and pulled it back out of the hands of Clayton or anyone else for that matter. I needed to be the kind of leader who never gave the board any reason to question my competency, the kind of leader who would’ve been so strong with his shareholders and board members, they would have already put a man like Clayton Hayworth in his place. I was ready to step up and get my company back.
Chapter 4
Amanda
Sunday mornings were always lazy morning for Mikey and me. We slept in late, rustled around the kitchen for breakfast, and spent our time easing into the day. It was his last day of rest before going back to school, and though he loved school, I knew it was important for him to get at least one day of relaxation before plunging back into all the responsibilities he had. I still couldn’t remember ever having so much going on when I was his age, but times had changed, and he was growing up in a different era than me. It made me sad for him.
I rolled over in the bed and groaned, hearing Mikey up in the kitchen. I pulled myself from the bed and wrapped my robe around me, shuffling to the bedroom door and looking out into the kitchen. He was standing on a chair reaching for the cereal on the top shelf. I held my laughter back, listening to him groan. I slowly walked out and stood next to him, waiting for him to notice.
“Hey, Mom,” he said without looking over.
“Hey there,” I said. “Need some help?”
“Nope,” he said, grabbing the box and climbing back down off the chair. “I got it.”
“What are you doing up so early?” I looked at the clock. “It’s Sunday, sleep in day.”
“I know,” he sighed. “I was just really hungry. I tried to be quiet so you could sleep in, but I guess I didn’t realize the cereal was on the top shelf.”
“I’ll make sure to move it to the pantry, so it’is easier for you,” I said, sitting down at the breakfast bar.”
“You want some?”
“No.” I smiled. “I’m going to make some coffee in a few minutes and drink my breakfast.”
“I wish I could have coffee,” he said.
“Yeah, right.” I laughed, getting up and walking over to the coffee maker. “You would bounce around for the rest of your life off of one cup of coffee.”
“At least I wouldn’t get sleepy in the middle of the day,” he said.
“I’ll have to pack you better snacks then.” I carried the pot over to the sink and looked down at all the empty glasses in it.
“Are all these from last night?” I asked, looking over at Mikey.
“Yeah, I was really thirsty last night,” he said. “I’ll put them in the dishwasher.”
“That’s fine,” I said, turning back.
I thought about my father, watching him struggle with type one diabetes his entire life. It seemed like there was always a never-ending supply of dirty glasses in the sink when I was growing up. I could remember listening to him shuffle out to the kitchen in the middle of the night, getting a drink and heading back to bed. Mikey hadn’t been tested for diabetes since he was a baby, but I knew it was something that developed over time. I figured I should probably eventually take him to the doctor to be tested. It wasn’t something to play around with, I knew that much. He was only showing a couple of symptoms, thirst and fatigue, which could simply be him growing and not getting enough water during the day, but it was still concerning to me. I would make sure to keep an eye on him over the next couple of weeks.
Just thinking about taking him to the pediatrician made me cringe, knowing the financial strain it would put on us. I felt like I had just gotten my head above water. We had insurance through the company, but there were copays and tests that weren’t covered and then treatment if he did come back positive. Diabetes was always wishy-washy with the insurance companies, and I knew firsthand from my parents how expensive all of that could be. It was something that wouldn’t go away either. It would be yet another long-term financial strain on our household.
I hated to think of it that way. Of course, I would do anything I could to make sure Mikey got whatever he needed to stay healthy, but the facts were the facts. Being sick that day and age was expensive, even for the insured. I sighed and filled up my coffee pot, knowing there was nothing I could do about it at that point. I needed to keep chugging ahead and trying to build up my savings in case anything happened to my job or my health. I did my best at all times to keep my financial woes away from my son. He had enough on his plate and didn’t need to worry about money. He was too young for that.
That was also why I had never told him about his grandfather’s diabetes and the possibility of him having it too. I knew it would be easier if he was looking out for symptoms as well, but I didn’t want to scare him or worry him too much. Kids didn’t understand things like diabetes, and I knew if I
put a list of things in his mind to be looking for, he would all of sudden be seeing symptoms around every corner. It was hard enough for him growing up without a father, listening to his friends talk about their dads, and wondering why he didn’t have one. I didn’t want to add the possibility of a lifelong disease to that list of worries and doubts. I would shoulder that like I shouldered all the rest because it was my responsibility to do so. When he got older, I would talk more in-depth about everything, including his father.
I started the pot of coffee and went back to my room to change my clothes. As I was getting dressed, the door buzzed, and Mikey ran over and pressed the button, asking who it was. It was Dalton, coming over to hang out with us. He had moved into the same complex as us after visiting for the first time. He was always close, and that was really nice. He always said he moved there because he liked the area, but seeing as it was one step above the dreary side of Chicago, I knew he was lying. He had been protective of me from the first time we met, and he’d moved there to be closer, to not feel so alone in such a big place. I understood that. I’d grown up in the area and still felt so tiny inside of the city. Chicago was a beautiful place, there was no doubt about that, but it was also a hard place to get your footing. You got lost really easily among the crowds and the buildings. With Dalton close, I felt a little bit more like I was at home.
“Hey, little man,” he said, opening the door. “I love those pajamas. Dinosaurs are definitely in right now.”
“Dalton,” Mikey said, hugging him tightly. “Thank you. My other reptile ones were dirty, so I went with these.”
“It was a wise choice,” he said. “I brought you something.”
I walked over to the doorway and leaned against it, watching the two of them converse. Dalton and Mikey had always gotten along so well, and he was the only person besides my parents who I felt completely comfortable having in Mikey’s life. His spirit and bright personality lit up our home and lifted the mood every time he came by.
