Heart of Cole
Page 23
Randy volunteered to download all of his document files to a flash drive and back them up on his system at home.
“Mr. Sage, I could only find these,” the janitor said from the doorway of Cole’s office.
“That will be great,” Cole said, giving the janitor a big smile.
“You movin’ offices? Nobody put it on the work order.”
“I am but, don’t worry, I can take care of it myself.”
“Nobody is supposed to do any moving, or switching of offices, or furniture, unless the proper paperwork is turned into Building Maintenance.” The janitor was showing irritation at Cole’s failure to comply with procedure.
“You are absolutely right. I will take care of any paper work that is necessary.” Cole was not going to let the janitor spoil his mood.
“I just don’t want to get my butt chewed out because you didn’t follow the rules.”
“I guarantee no one will do any chewing. I promise.” Cole smiled reassuringly.
“Alright then,” the janitor grumbled as he turned and walked away.
Cole worked quickly, while trying not to look too closely, as he cleared Hanna’s desk of anything personal. Items that seem to have no meaning went in the waste paper basket. He gave her desk and its drawer’s one more quick look, then he put the lid on the box. He took a thick black felt tip pen from the top drawer and wrote “Hanna” on the lid.
It only took one box to finish clearing his office. He did, however, fill three waste paper baskets with a collection of mail, magazines, and office memoranda.
Cole sat down and put his feet up on his desk. He would rest a few minutes and then give Faraday the news of his departure in person. He tried to think of anyone else in the building that he might like to say farewell to. There was no one.
He reached over and picked up the phone and rested it on his legs. The number he dialed was engrained in his memory, so much in fact, he almost didn’t see the buttons he was pushing.
“Chin.”
“Leonard? Cole.”
“How are you doing?” Chin asked respectfully.
“I think I’m going to be OK. I just wanted to let you know not call me here anymore.”
“New rules about personal calls?” Chin said not quite sure of the context.
“Nope. I’m leaving.”
“You get fired?”
“Have you no faith in me, sir?” Cole said in his best Dixie Colonel accent.
“When did this happen?”
“In about five minutes from now, after we hang up. I thought I better let you know in advance.”
“I’ll be damned. So, what’s next?” Chin was reeling with the news.
“I’ve taken the job at Stanford, teaching journalism.”
“You told them?”
“I certainly did.” Cole laughed. “Don’t sound so surprised. They called, asked me, I thought it over, and said yes. A logical pathway to change.”
“Fantastic! Good for you!”
“Thank you. The other reason I called is that I need your home address so I can send you and your wife an invitation to the wedding.”
“I should have recorded this call. I would love to hear it again!” Chin chuckled merrily.
The two friends chatted a bit more and then stopped when Chin got another call.
Cole walked right passed the secretary to Faraday’s big walnut door.
“Hey, you can’t go in there!”
“Wanna bet?” Cole replied as he opened the door and walked in.
Faraday was reading a magazine with his feet up on his desk. Seeing Cole, he threw down the magazine and jumped to his feet.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing? You can’t just barge in here any time you want!” Faraday shouted.
“Just did.” Cole replied.
Cole walked toward the desk. The much smaller man defensively took a step back.
“What do you want? I’m busy!”
“I saw. What are the Kardashians up to these days? Getting robbed again?”
“I have had just about enough of you and your smart ass, your I-own-the-place attitude’. Contract or not, you can only push me so far!” Faraday’s face was flushed with anger.
“You are standing awfully close to the window,” Cole quipped.
“What?” Faraday shouted.
“Nothing,” Cole chuckled.
“If it weren’t so damned expensive I’d, I’d…” Faraday was literally spitting in feline fury.
“That what I came to talk about. I really do have an iron clad hold on you. I figure with salary and benefits on the remaining two years and odd months, your firing me would not look good on your new and improved bottom line. So here my offer, cut me a check for fifty thousand dollars, we tear up the contract, and I walk.”
“Hell no! I’ll fire you for insubordination!”
“You’re the one screaming. Matter of fact, they probably can hear you in the lobby. Your word against mine. I just claim hostile work environment. I’ll win. There are some twenty people outside that door listening to you scream at me.”
“I really hate you Sage and everything you stand for!”
“Oh, come now.”
“Madeline!”
“Yes, sir.” In moments the secretary was at the door glaring at Cole.
“Have a check cut for fifty thousand made out to Mister Sage. Get me his contract. Now!”
“That wasn’t so hard, was it?” Cole remained calm, and smiled politely at the man who just lost the battle.
Cole stepped forward and grabbed the top of one of the heavy leather chairs facing Faraday’s desk and dragged it to the corner of the room.
“I’ll wait.” Cole smiled. “Finish your reading.”
Faraday spun around and faced the windows.
It took less than ten minutes for the secretary to return check in hand. Contract at the ready. She approached her boss with the folder containing Cole’s contract.
She whispered something to Faraday that Cole couldn’t hear.
“Thank you, Madeline,” Faraday said.
“If there’s nothing else…” The secretary slipped quietly toward the door. She paused for a moment trying to decide if she should close it, after a second or two she left. The door remained open.
“This is it.” Faraday held up the folder. “Void it.”
“Cole approached the desk. He took one of the pens from an elaborate desk and looked down at the open folder facing him. In large double stroke letters, Cole scribbled, “void.”
“Now, sign and date it.”
“Not that I don’t trust you.” Cole put his hand out.
Faraday grudgingly handed Cole the check. Cole examined it closely. The correct amount, and bearing two signatures, it was legal. In quick bold strokes Cole signed and dated the voided contract.
“It has been…” Cole seemed to taste his words. Then changed direction: “That’s that.”
Faraday snatched the signed document and spun around and faced the windows again, arms folded across his chest like a petulant child.
As he approached his office Cole felt distant and removed from any emotion or sense of belonging. It was over, he was done, finished. He picked up the box he packed with the only things he would take with him other than memories. He didn’t look around, pause to reflect, or have any pithy last remarks to the room he had spent so many hours in. He turned and walked out.
Hanna’s box of possessions sat dutifully waiting just as she had. Cole put the box he held on top of her box. Suddenly struck with a whimsical thought, he rounded the desk and got the big felt tip pen from the top desk drawer.
A big smile crossed his face as he began to write in big thick letters, first on the top box, and then the other. He picked up the boxes and started toward the elevator. As he passed the cubicles, and open work areas, people began to stand, point, smile, and then applaud.
Cole nodded and smiled as he received comments and good wishes. He hit the “down” butto
n with the corner of the bottom box. Inside the elevator he had another inspired thought. He hit the button for the floor below. As the doors opened he looked out at the real workings of the paper: advertising, billing, circulation.
As he approached the first person in his path Cole smiled and said, “Can you direct me to Tim O’Malley?”
The woman pointed to an alcove along the far wall. Cole’s boxes got the same reaction as upstairs except the people on this floor were even more enthusiastic, giving him thumbs up, and pats on the back as he passed by.
O’Malley was on the phone when Cole enter the alcove. Upon see Cole, he immediately hung up.
“Nice message.”
“Thanks. I just wanted to come by and say, it was a sucker bet. I would have won.” Cole grinned.
O’Malley laughed heartily and stood. Cole set the boxes on the corner of a desk as O’Malley extended his hand. The two men shook hands and gave each other knowing smiles.”
“As we Irish are prone to say: “May the sun shine warm upon your face, and may the Good Lord hold you in the palm of His hand.”
“And may you find yourself in heaven an hour before the devil knows your dead!” Cole picked up his boxes and smiled. “Be seein’ ya.”
The lobby was empty except for security guard, Craig Simmons. As Cole approached him, Simmons said, “You living us Mr. Sage?”
“Yep,” Cole said turning the message on the boxes so Simmons could read it.
The guard began to laugh. “Good for you!”
Cole Sage left the Chronicle the same way he came in, through the front doors, his head held high, and a smile on his face. As he approached the tall glass doors he paused for a moment to look at himself in the reflection. For just a second he held the boxes a little higher and nodded. As he read the message on the boxes, he knew he was doing the right thing.
NOT FIRED.
QUIT!
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About the Author
Micheal Maxwell was taught the beauty and majesty of the English language by Bob Dylan, Robertson Davies, Charles Dickens and Leonard Cohen.
Mr. Maxwell has traveled the globe, dined with politicians, rock stars and beggars. He has rubbed shoulders with priests and murderers, surgeons and drug dealers, each one giving him a part of themselves that will live again in the pages of his books.
Micheal Maxwell has found a niche in the mystery, suspense, genre with The Cole Sage Series that gives readers an everyman hero, short on vices, long on compassion, and a sense of fair play, and the willingness to risk everything to right wrongs. Maxwell is committed to writing a clean, character driven, mysteries series with lots of twist, turns, and heart.
The Cole Sage Series departs from the usual, heavily sexual, profanity laced norm and gives readers a character driven stories, with twists, turns, and page turning plot lines.
Micheal Maxwell writes from a life of love, music, film, and literature. Along with his lovely wife and travel partner, Janet, he divides his time between the Central Valley and Sierra Nevada Mountains of California.
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Also by Micheal Maxwell
Diamonds and Cole (Cole Sage Mystery #1)
Cellar Full of Cole (Cole Sage Mystery #2)
Helix of Cole (Cole Sage Mystery #3)
Cole Dust (Cole Sage Mystery #4)
Cole Shoot (Cole Sage Mystery #5)
Cole Fire (Cole Sage Mystery #6)
Heart of Cole (Cole Sage Mystery #7)
* * *
Three Nails (A Tale of Tragedy, Testing and Triumph)
Copyright © 2016 Micheal Maxwell
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. All rights reserved. No part of this publication can be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, without permission in writing from Micheal Maxwell.