Mr. Koplin waited for her behind his long mahogany desk, his door open so that she had no chance to collect herself while she knocked. “Come in,” he called, glancing at his watch purposefully.
Liana stood before the desk, keeping her face stoic. “You wanted to see me, Mr. Koplin?”
A muscle twitched in his fleshy cheek. “Yes. Thank you. Please shut the door and have a seat.”
Liana was tempted to request that the door remain ajar, or that Marla come in to witness the conversation, but she was too proud to suggest either. She could handle this alone.
She sat on the padded chair in front of his desk, her laptop on her knees. Mr. Koplin’s office was full of expensive-looking furniture, paintings, and knickknacks, none of which showed any taste. While some pieces would have been nice alone or with something else, the crowded, careless way they had been arranged screamed of trying to impress—and failing miserably.
Mr. Koplin folded his hands together on the desk, looking grave. “I am very concerned with your personal use of company equipment—especially during this busy season.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize that was company policy. It won’t happen again.” She wouldn’t grovel, but she would apologize.
“Well, the problem is that you used it for accounting purposes, which is not the same as, say, keeping a diary.” Mr. Koplin smiled, apparently finding himself amusing. Liana didn’t react, though she really wanted to let loose a good sneer. “Basically,” he continued more soberly, “by using the equipment to do taxes, you’ve taken potential business away from this company. That is what disturbs me. It makes me question your loyalty.”
“I’ve worked here for four years. I’ve been loyal.”
He stared at her, and she felt as though he were trying to peer into her heart. “Are you planning on staying with this company?”
“Yes.” Or she had been—until now.
“Good.” Koplin stood and walked over to his window, one of the few in the building, and pulled up the shutters. “Now let’s see what we can do to rectify this situation. I believe you intend to be loyal to this company, but I will expect you to prove it to me as I have proven my appreciation to you by moving you from the cubicles. You have the ability to go far with us here at Klassy Accounting.”
At one time Liana would have believed him, but in the past few months the realization had hit that there was only one way she could advance: changing her parenthood. At this branch of Klassy Accounting two managers divvied up the workload. One was Mr. Koplin’s daughter, and the other was a cousin. The second branch was managed by Mr. Koplin’s brother and his son-in-law. The advertising president, payroll supervisor, and executive secretary were all equally related in some way. For all his promises, there simply wasn’t room for Liana in managing: She didn’t have the right blood.
Koplin stared out the window. “Of course,” he said casually, “if Goodman Electronics needs help, we can set them up here.” He turned to her. “Yes, I think that would be a good idea. That way we help both Mr. Walker and our company.”
Now Liana understood. After finding out that Austin was the sales manager of Goodman’s he wanted their account permanently. He was envisioning quarterly reports, employee withholdings, and tax documents galore. Dollar signs shone from his watery eyes as he imagined larger and larger companies flocking to him for help. More wealthy men like Jim Forrester. She almost laughed aloud. Instead, she said, “He didn’t want to go to our company—to any company.”
“But he knows you now. He’ll come.”
She clenched her jaw. “I did that work in my free time.”
“With my equipment.”
“I’ll have to be paid for my time.”
“You’re on salary.” Mr. Koplin’s eyes glittered. “But perhaps a bonus is in order for finding a new client. However, if they choose not to go with us, we’ll have to rethink your position here.”
Liana knew what that meant. If she didn’t obtain a contract with Goodman’s, he wouldn’t fire her—yet—but he would make her life miserable. The bonuses she earned for completing important assignments would be lowered, the worst cases would come her way, she would lose her tiny excuse of an office. In short, he would make her working life unbearable. It was as if a veil had been taken from her eyes and she could finally see him for who he really was. Not a community-driven man who did good for the sake of doing right but a man who was active in the community for the appearance of goodness, for what it could do for him. Yes, Larry Koplin was a man who valued control more than kindness and money more than morality. Employees were simply the means to an end.
Liana would not give in to the immediate satisfaction of telling him that Austin already had a replacement accountant. Let Mr. Koplin dream over the stacks of hefty bills he would send to them, of the vacations he would take to Tahiti. Not telling him would buy her a few hours of peace as she decided what to do. “I’ll talk to him,” she said.
“Very well.” Smiling, Mr. Koplin wrung his hands like a dishcloth. “You may go then. And try to be a little earlier tomorrow, would you?”
She hesitated at the door. “Tomorrow’s Saturday.”
“Didn’t you see the memo this morning? We need everyone to come in a half day to make sure we beat the deadlines.”
You mean to line your pockets, she thought. But it was standard procedure during tax season, and to be fair they would be given monetary compensation in the form of bonuses. Liana forced a smile and left the room.
Near lunchtime Mr. Koplin came into her office, making it seem more confining than usual. The smell of bitter coffee coming from the break room was overpowering, and as she looked up from her computer screen, Liana’s empty stomach felt nauseated.
Koplin frowned disapprovingly at the eagle in her picture, making his thinning eyebrows resemble sickly caterpillars. “Have you talked with Mr. Walker?” he asked. “I could squeeze him in about four to discuss his account, if he can make it.”
Liana looked up from her computer. “He’s already hired a new accountant, so he doesn’t need us.”
“What?” Mr. Koplin’s face reddened. His hands alternately twisted and clenched the other.
“It’s Mr. Goodman’s nephew.”
“Oh.” His mouth worked, but nothing further came out.
Liana watched him without expression. He released his hands and brought one to his round chest. “You—you knew this,” he accused.
“I would never steal business from this company,” she said. “I was only helping my brother.” For a moment, she hoped he would show reason, that he would see the situation as she did. He had helped the women’s shelter, and he served on the local school board as well. Maybe she was wrong about him. Maybe she had somehow misunderstood his threats. If she could only clear it up . . .
He abruptly turned and left the office. Even without his disquieting presence, Liana didn’t feel better. Perhaps she should have told him right away about Goodman’s nephew instead of letting the pot simmer. She had just been so angry, and yes, hurt.
She was about to go out for a late lunch when Mr. Koplin returned with several thick files. He had Jim Forrester in tow. “I need these two accounts finished before you go home tonight, Liana.”
Inwardly, she sighed. From the looks of the files, she’d be here until eight—if she hurried. The payback for the incident with Goodman Electronics had begun.
“Oh, and Mr. Forrester wanted to ask you a few questions about the figures you calculated yesterday,” Koplin said.
This was getting worse by the minute. “Okay,” she agreed, though she knew there was nothing she had missed, nothing he could question.
Mr. Koplin wasn’t finished—something she should have been prepared for, given the malicious gleam in his eyes. He smiled as he said, “I told him you could take a long lunch.”
Behind him, Jim Forrester winked, and Liana felt her already taut nerves stretch to the breaking point. She would talk to Forrester about his account, but not in
a hundred years would it be over lunch. Taking a deep breath, she said, “I’m sorry, but this is simply not a good time.” She motioned to the files he had just given her. “I’ll be here until eight as it is.”
“All the more reason to take a nice break now.” Mr. Koplin’s sugar sweet voice held an undertone that Liana recognized as threatening.
“I’ll be happy to go over his account here,” Liana countered.
“Will you excuse us for a minute?” Mr. Koplin said to Forrester with an air of tortured patience.
“Sure.” The surfing king look-alike winked again at Liana, showing no sign of discomfort at the scene. She watched him with growing anger as he wandered away from her door to talk with one of the other employees.
“Look,” Mr. Koplin said in a low voice that bordered on ugliness. “Jim Forrester is one of our largest accounts. We can’t afford to lose him. I strongly suggest going with him. It’s just a lunch—nothing more.”
Liana matched his serious tone—without the ugly undertone. “Not only do I not have time but I don’t feel comfortable with him. I do not want to be in a social setting with him, especially not alone. There’s no need for me to leave the office to discuss his file.”
“It’s just work.”
“Is it?” Liana held his eyes. He looked away, obviously uncomfortable, and she felt a sliver of victory. There was some conscience left in the man.
“It’s a question of loyalty, Liana,” he said more normally. “I’m not asking you to do anything but eat lunch. Smile and do a little hand-holding. We all have to do our share of that.”
“We can talk here.”
“He wants to eat lunch.”
“No.”
“Your job is on the line.”
She was stunned into silence. How could this be happening? She felt numb. More than numb. Frozen. Taking her lack of a response as acquiescence, Koplin motioned Forrester over. With her boss’s tall frame taking up much of the free space in her office, and Forrester blocking the door, Liana felt suddenly claustrophobic.
“We’ve worked it out,” Koplin said. “Liana will be able to get away for lunch after all. Won’t you, Liana?”
That last patronizing question was all Liana could take. Slowly, she took her purse from the desk drawer, pausing to shove her stash of meal bars inside. Then she stood and reached for the eagle painting on the wall.
“Liana, what—”
“I’m leaving, Mr. Koplin.”
“What?”
“I quit.”
“You can’t quit!” Red seeped into his face. “We’ve got too much work to do.”
She smiled coldly, allowing triumph to show in her eyes. “Maybe you should have thought of that before.” Shoving past them, she emerged from the tiny office, feeling suddenly as light and free as the eagle who had inspired the picture she carried. Was this how Merriam and Franz had felt when they left for the last time? If only she hadn’t valued the financial security—however slim it was—more than her self-esteem. She would have already been free of Mr. Koplin and this dead-end job.
“What about my account?” Forrester asked, his good-looking face creasing with concern.
Liana paused. “I’ve documented everything. Anyone here can help you. Perhaps Mr. Koplin will make the time.” She smiled. “I’m sure he’s free for lunch. I’ll bet you could even get him to pay.”
Without another word or glance at the two men, Liana started down the space between the rows of cubicles. Their last exchanges had attracted attention, and for the last time Liana felt her coworkers eyes fixed on her as she marched out of the room and to the elevator. It felt good leaving, knowing she’d never have to see her boss or any of them again.
“Wait! Liana!”
She turned to see Jocelyn, the only person who still made friendly overtures toward her. Jocelyn was young, blonde, and very smart, though Liana doubted that many of their coworkers made it far enough past her good looks to learn that about her. Not participating in office friendships had left Liana with plenty of moments to observe their interactions and to evaluate their work.
“I heard what happened—or much of it,” Jocelyn said. “Don’t quit! You should stay and fight. It’s sexual harassment, that’s what it is. Koplin knows that guy’s a leach. He had no right to try to make you go with him. You could win. I know it! My boyfriend’s sister is an attorney, and I’ve talked to her plenty about it.”
Liana felt an unexpected rush of emotion at her sympathy. She clenched her lips tightly for a moment until it passed. “I don’t want to work here, that’s all.” The words came out more coldly than she intended.
Jocelyn’s youthful features drooped. “I know it’s none of my business. I’m sorry.” She turned to leave.
Without thinking, Liana reached for her shoulder. “No, thanks. Really. It’s nice of you to care. But I—it’s just not worth it. I’m going nowhere here.”
Jocelyn smiled. “I know what you mean. I’ve only been here two months, and I’m ready to quit. I mean, I’m not related to the right people to qualify for advancement.”
“At least it only took you two months to figure it out,” Liana said dryly. “It took me four years.”
Jocelyn raised both brows. “That’s a long time.”
“Too long.” Liana was relieved that the elevator chose that moment to arrive. “Well, good luck.”
“You, too.”
Once in her car, the adrenaline pumping through her veins abated, and Liana shook her head with amazement at her own audacity. How was she going to pay the mortgage on her condo? Buy food? Her savings would tide her over for a while but not for long. She began to feel distinctly sorry for herself. Maybe she should have gone to lunch with Forrester. Handling him wouldn’t have been too difficult. That way she could have at least found another job before she quit. Tears stung her eyes, but she didn’t allow them to fall.
Shoving her car into gear, she pulled from her parking place. Manually, she shifted gears several times as the car sprang forward into the weak traffic. The movement, the power, somehow comforted her. The pushing on the clutch, the shifting of gears, was something she could easily control—enjoyed controlling. Once on the freeway she drove as fast as she dared, letting the wind rip through her hair, tangling it, until the painting on the passenger seat threatened to blow out. She leaned over and carefully set it onto the floor.
Seeing the eagle reminded her of her freedom, and she told herself that leaving her job was not a setback but an opportunity. While she finished the job for Goodman Electronics, she would advertise for freelance work; it wasn’t too late to take advantage of the tax season. Somehow she would make ends meet. No, she’d do more than that: she would fly high. She was still in control.
CHAPTER 5
Diary of Karyn Olsen
Thursday, January 17, 1966
The past days have rushed by. I changed my biology class to later in the day so I could “accidentally” meet Travis more often. Turns out he’s there only three days a week at that time. The other two days (Tuesday and Thursday) he has an engineering class. Angie told me that. She asked her cousin all about him. Turns out they went to high school together and just happened to run into each other in the cafeteria that day. (Angie says it’s coincidence. I say it’s fate!) Now they’re keeping in touch. Anyway, Travis is a senior (!) and is going to be a civil engineer. Isn’t that brilliant?
He hasn’t exactly asked me out yet, but Angie and I arranged to run into him outside his math class today, and she told him about the welcome dance they’re having tomorrow. She convinced him to come with us. I’m so excited I could scream. I called Clarissa right away, and she promised to do my hair. I have to be beautiful. I will just die if he doesn’t ask me out soon.
Liana arrived at Goodman Electronics at three o’clock, locking her eagle painting in the trunk of the car before going inside. There were two receptionists behind the long desk, and she waited while the younger of the two called Mr. Walker’s office to
tell him of her arrival.
“He’ll be right down to escort you inside,” she told Liana. Her bright hazel eyes ran over Liana’s hair, and belatedly Liana wondered if her wild drive had made her unpresentable. Turning from the desk, she surreptitiously combed her fingers through her hair, smoothing it.
Within minutes Austin came through the door with his hand outstretched. “Liana,” he said, “thank you for coming. I didn’t expect you so early, though. I thought I wouldn’t see you until seven or eight.”
“I was able to get away.” His touch was warm on her hand, and Liana thought his smile was genuine, though she wasn’t sure why he wasted it on her. She certainly hadn’t encouraged him.
“I’ve got everything ready that you requested,” he said as he led her down the hallway. “I’ve even arranged a computer for you, but I’ll need to stop at my office for that on our way. Sorry about what happened last night. Hope you didn’t get into trouble.”
Liana shrugged. “Well, I’m not going to be using my laptop.” In fact, she’d left it back at the office when she’d quit. “But this afternoon I copied everything I’d need from it—I even have the forms I’ll need.” She had thought herself paranoid while she had done it after her first discussion with Koplin, but her instincts had been proven correct.
“That’s good.” He pushed the button for the elevator.
His third-floor office was as large and spacious as her office at Klassy Accounting had been small and cramped. The difference of being well employed, she thought. Perhaps that was what was wrong with her life. She was talented and hardworking—maybe she should start her own business. The idea was not new, but always before she had been scared to try. Now she had nothing to lose.
Not only was Austin’s office large but the U-shaped oak desk, leather chair, and leather couches under the long windows radiated an understated opulence. Many of the tasteful accessories obviously had stories behind them: a signed baseball with a glass covering, a polished star-shaped rock being used as a paperweight, and two framed pictures on the wall—one of a boy leaning against a black-and-white cow that towered over him, and another of an older girl and that same boy feeding a small spotted calf. The front half of the desk was littered with papers, atop which sat a thin notebook computer; the far side held a regular computer with a flat screen, a printer, a fax machine, and an electric pencil sharpener. It was a setup that invited hard work with convenience.
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