by Dom Price
Dave took a sip of his coffee, trying not to create a mental image and being eternally grateful for his lack of experience in that department. He shuddered to think what a busy summer would entail, or how much work she’d have to do to get a sore you know what.
“In fact, the highlight of the summer is hopefully going to be a massive open air event at Hyde Park in late August. I can probably get you tickets if you’re interested?”
Dave’s coffee cup banged down abruptly on the table, and his silence was nothing compared to the horror and disgust which was written all over his face. A morbid fascination would have been the focus of most alpha males right now conjuring up images of a mass orgy, but this line of business was the only corporate endeavour that Dave had no time for.
“The sex industry is intriguing from its dominance in the online world, profitability and growth through use of alternative media, but it bears no interest for me personally!” Dave delivered the message very matter of factly. Minimal emotion was displayed and no signs of the despicable taste in his mouth that this topic provoked.
The response from Maria was swift and shocking for Dave.
“I agree completely. You don’t think I work in the sex industry do you? I am an agent for some of the top artists on the Indie music scene. I take new up and coming bands and get them gigs supporting major artists. I did kinda tell you this before when we first sat down. You didn’t think...well what did you think?”
Deafening. The lack of noise was simply deafening. It was as if the entire restaurant was watching and eagerly anticipating Dave’s shovel ability as he tried to dig himself out of a massive hole.
“I thought absolutely nothing.” Recovery was Dave’s speciality, though he much preferred not getting himself in these situations. “ It was just something I read today and thought that I’d share my views with you. You know, I’ve always said that the best way to find a woman or a companion, is to just be yourself and to put yourself out there, and that topic happens to be something I’ve very passionate about. Well not passionate in that way. You know what I mean?”
Dave’s back tracking had distracted Maria, as she suddenly became aware of how cute he looked when he was in trouble. His veil had been lifted, and the emotions of embarrassment were written all over him with cowering body language and the tinge of red which adorned his cheeks. His volume dropped along with his eyes. Bless.
“Would you like to come back for a coffee Dave?”
“Ermm...well...”
“Look, here is my address. We’re both in our cars, so just park outside and I’ll see you there in 10mins. Just coffee though.”
Dave’s nod responded gently to Maria’s nod as he took the piece of paper with the address on. He’d be glad of the 10 minute drive to get himself back together. He’d just nearly stolen defeat from the jaws of victory again.
***
Chapter You For Coffee
***
“I suppose I should check my phone”, noted Anne. “I’ve had it on silent when we got the kids down, but I should have a report coming in anytime soon.”
Both kids were asleep and both Tony and Anne were enjoying a rare night of peace and quiet. The TV was off as there was nothing but the usual repeats and a few reality TV shows. With the radio gently playing in the background and the couple just taking a few moments to catch up on themselves, the tranquillity and unity of the moment filled the room. Tony topped up Anne’s glass with some wine and took the opportunity to grab his phone, as Anne peered curiously without her reading glasses.
“Oh, I’ve got 3 messages. Let’s cut to the chase and read the last one.”
BEEP BEEP. Dave’s phone went off, just as Anne started reading. “This could be promising?”
“Good news. Invited him back for a coffee as he stopped talking about his work! Bad news; he just insinuated that he thought I was a prostitute. M,x”. Anne gorped as her mouth gaped open and spun around to Tony.
“You are kidding? What did it really say?”
“That was it word for word. And these other messages are from her as well. Doesn’t sound like it is going well. I knew it was a mistake to set him up with a friend.” There was an element of sadness in Anne’s voice, mixed in with the disappointment that her match making skills had failed and that her stupid brother had called one of her hottest mates a prostitute! Most annoying was the fact that to berate him for it, she’d also have to confess to setting him up. The tangled web.
“Yeah, my message is from Dave and pretty much reads the same way. He is currently parked outside her house giving himself a pep talk! What have we done!?”
Composure was the key here. Dave was looking firmly into his eyes through the rear view mirror and giving himself the mother of all talks. If these relationships were anything like business, then the near misses often turned into the best accounts, so he had to persevere with this. If she’d invited him back for coffee after being accused of being a whore, then there was hope. Dave felt like he was on a tight rope as he manoeuvred down the driveway. A normally alert Dave would have noticed the 3 cars on the driveway, but his focus right now was on deep breathing and not messing this up. Maria represented admission into the elite group of the Partnership at CEC and another accomplishment on his stepping stone to success and ultimately happiness.
Maria opened the door with a smile and pointed Dave towards the living room, in what appeared to be a rather spacious and well presented house.
Maria headed at a tangent to Dave towards the kitchen, as the noise of the coffee machine formed the sound track to Dave’s entrance into the living area. First impressions were good, and Dave couldn’t help but think about the cost of such a property and the network of the individual living in it. Her kudos was increasing.
“Very nice. Very nice indeed. Bet she’s worth a few bob.” Dave was muttering to himself, suddenly starting to feel more positive.
“Oh hello. You must be Dave. I am Arnold and this is Patsy. We’re Maria’s parents.”
The man called Arnold was still approaching Dave as he leapt upwards and backwards in unison. A taller man in a smaller building would have hit the ceiling.
“It’s OK, I don’t bite”. Arnold’s hand was outstretched and barely made it out of the end of a knitted jumper, which had been made for a man with a different stature. A quick glance to Arnold’s left suggested that any commentary about the jumper would be a dagger to Dave’s chances, as the steely eyed Patsy sat, crocheting in her seat with the speed of a thousand worker bees.
“Oh. Yes. Erm, hello to you too. I’m Dave.” The stumbling in his voice bore no correlation to the power and presence he displayed in the offices around London. Living rooms and restaurants were proving far scarier stomping ground then meeting rooms and offices.
“We know.” There was a chill in their voices that defied the heat bulging from the open fire place.
Awkward and fearful, Dave decided to retreat back to the kitchen and find Maria.
“Coffee’s nearly done. So you met the folks then?”
“Erm yeah, you never said you lived with your parents?”
“Well I did and I don’t. They don’t live here, but they come down to visit quite often and stay for a few weeks. Dad has a lot of old work buddies down this way and Mum prefers the shops down here. And yes, I did tell you. Over dinner in fact, just before you starting telling me about your favourite clients and well before you suggested I was a whore.” Maria smiled.
Dave felt weak. He wasn’t used to this scenario. Maria appeared to be in control of this situation and was clearly in the power position. Her mocking of him was jovial, and certainly beat her getting understandably angry about things, but Dave wasn’t accustomed to dealing with this banter.
“Are you coming through?” Maria was leaving with the coffees on a tray and Dave followed. He hated following. He was a leader. It was time to get this evening back on track.
Maria was mesmerised by the boyish charm combined with precisio
n that Dave appeared to soften her parents with, the stories he shared about his childhood growing up in Sheffield and the time he spent with his extended family. She was falling for him. His brave and nonchalant exterior hid a scared and cute young man, and Maria was confident that she had the arsenal to convert him into the perfect man. A few tweaks here and a few changes there, and he’d be the finished article. It was fair to say that he had a few edges that needed trimming, and some guidance in social situations, but he had potential, and she liked that. Certainly not the finished article, but coming from the same blood stock as one her friends, gave him extra promise.
Dave slipped effortlessly into an award winning rendition of the story about how he was planning to take his mother out for lunch on Sunday as a surprise for her birthday, and that he was driving all the way up north for the day just for her. He wasn’t nearly as bad as Anne had made out. In fact, Anne had spoken so candidly about him, that Maria had only agreed to the date out of intrigue to see if a man that sold on corporate life really existed.
“Don’t mind me. I’ll be back in a second.” Maria felt confident enough to leave Dave chatting like old friends with her parents, as she skipped happily upstairs. A quick check of the bedroom revealed that it was perfectly clean and there was no stray underwear on show. Her parents were sure to retire to their granny flat at the back of the house soon enough, and Maria was compelled to drag Dave up to her comfortable and seductively lit room for some fun. She was no longer doing a favour for Anne. Dave had real potential, but there was another test for him to pass before Maria could give him the seal of approval. Looking in the mirror, Maria decided to put the final touches to her outfit. Some perfume, some fresh underwear and some background music were all required, then she could go and collect her prey.
In the lounge, the quiet Patsy defied science by continuing to crochet an extremely complex pattern using 12 inch knitting needles, whilst maintaining unbroken eye contact with Dave.
“So Sunday you say?”
“Yes, driving up to Sheffield, and surprising Mum with lunch somewhere fancy before relaxing over afternoon tea and then the long drive back. All worth it mind!”
“So no church then?”
“God no. Ha! I mean, no. I’m not into all that.”
“Oh. We’ll be going for our weekly stroll early Sunday morning to Maria’s local church. So what religion are you David? You’re not Kosher are you?”
The smile on Dave’s face defied the huge number of thought processes his brain was ploughing through. His first task was to resist the temptation to correct Patsy and explain that if she really was religious and educated, that she’d know that Kosher wasn’t a religion. This was no time to mock. He’d got close and this was surely just a hurdle, but he had to be careful how he navigated it. He’d heard that mothers formed scary gate keepers for their daughters, but had hoped that dating women in their 30’s would reduce the protectiveness. Arnold, who had seemed to be an ally, was now dozing. Luckily for Dave, his alertness had come back as the caffeine soaked in, and his mind was focused on the end goal. The prize. And the prize he wanted wasn’t passion and frolicking in the bedroom, or the scalp of another woman, but the prize of having an office, a title, a parking space and a new level of credibility that made his dream a possibility. It was time for Dave Marsdon the super hero. Dave took a breath, and in that moment, his eyes played the trick on him which he’d requested. The living room was merely another corporate location in the city. The comfortable chairs were high back board room chairs. The oil painting of an unknown village was a motivational poster about leadership. The TV was the video conference for the international board members to dial in. The coffee table was the board room table. Patsy was the Chairman of the Board, and he had to sell her his pitch. He was on the 23rd floor of a high rise building and his stock was about to get higher.
“Excellent question Patsy.” Always start with flattery and use their name. It makes them concentrate more. “You see, where I come from, religion isn’t prevalent. It’s not to say that it isn’t important or to diminish its significance, but in its formal sense, it wasn’t a big part of my life.” Pause for effect. Maintain eye contact. Dave was feeling good about this. If only he had a white board and marker pen.
“What we did have though, were our parents. They instilled a set of core values, beliefs, and understandings.” Dave’s own hands were weaving a pattern of perfect management speak that was supposed to hypnotise Patsy. “Just like in your church, the stories of days gone by were shared and became customs as we rejoiced at how this framework of beliefs were told in the events of our forefathers. How the good succeed and how the bad come to peril. As life went by and as I had my own experiences, I was taught to share these, and this enabled me to re-enforce my understanding of this way of living...of right from wrong, good from bad. Through living our lives we learnt about respect and honesty from the love of our family. We learnt that you are responsible for your own destiny and that hard work, in all forms of life, will eventually lead to reward.”
The stare had been maintained, but Dave had met sterner people in the boardrooms of the city. People who got paid millions and had responsibility for thousands of employees. People who’d survived recessions and managed growth through booms. Real hard men and women.
“I think you misheard me young man. I asked if you went to church.” The look intensified.
“Well as I was saying. This religion doesn’t have a building in which we congregate. It doesn’t have a name, and nor does it have holidays designated to celebrate its cause. But surely it’s about what works for you, and this religion has certainly always worked for me. It got me where I am today, and I’m extremely happy with that.”
Done deal. There was no coming back from a line like that. Dave was ready to pat himself on the back. Unequivocal and cut throat display of his talents for spin, for thinking on his feet and for interpreting the truth into a more compelling story of slight non-truths. A small sigh of satisfaction about his achievements in dealing with this cunning and protective was on its way out of Dave’s mouth, when all of the free air in the room was stolen by Patsy.
“So you don’t believe in God then?” The lean forward and closing of the eyes was accusational and powerful. Putting her needles down was petrifying.
Before Dave had a chance to respond, Patsy was sensing victory.
“You must feel blessed though, to have had the opportunities you’ve had. Your stories before were full of them. Your travels, your deals, your family, your finances, your property, car and your lavish lifestyle. You are very blessed to have all that aren’t you?”
There was a roar in the pit of Dave’s stomach. Patsy had just raised the red rag, and the bull in Dave was now firing. The blue touch paper had been lit and the adrenalin shot through every crevice of Dave’s now angry body.
“Blessed is not the word I’d choose to use” Dave commented pertly, “as I am confident that I am responsible for my own actions and I take the chances I choose to take. When you take risks, you deserve the rewards of those risks. I work bloody hard for everything that I have and don’t feel any guilt or shame for what I have achieved through hard work and dedication. I am not blessed. I am not lucky. I am bloody good at what I do.”
With each sentence and with each breath, Dave’s voice got louder and more directive, to the point where his words were being shot right at Patsy’s eyes. Just as Dave caught the whiff of perfume, he saw the immediate mellowing of Patsy’s face, which went from the look of the prosecutor to the look of the prosecuted.
“Oh, I’m sorry for asking young man. I didn’t mean to pry or to get you riled. I’m just an old lady who was interested in what you thought. Sorry for making you angry.” Her voice was now meek and frail.
Confusion was about to transcend Dave at this rather strange change of tact, until he connected the dots. Looking up and relaxing his angry stance, the fresh scented perfume was emanating from the gorgeous Maria, who’s beaut
y was hidden by a distinct look of feisty.
“I’ll be leaving.”
As he left the room, he gently touched Maria’s arm and looked into her eyes. He spoke truthfully for the first time that night.
“I am genuinely sorry. I didn’t mean for that to happen. I actually quite like you. Sorry, but looks like this won’t work”, shaking Maria’s hand like he was leaving any other business meeting in the city.
Before the heater in Dave’s car had got up to temperature, Anne already had the conclusion from the night.
“Another one bites the dust. Note to self: Don’t date men when you have your parents staying over. I think she convinced him that I was the daughter of Mary and Joseph! Sorry mate, nearly but not quite, M,x”
***
Chapter Desperate Measures and The Numbers Game
***
“SMART stands for specific, measurable, achievable, realistic and timely. It is essential that all your counselee’s targets fit this criteria.”
Other than the potential dramas at Food United Group, Dave’s portfolio was completely on track. He’d checked in with Laura in the morning, and whilst quieter than normal, he was happy that at least one part of his life was working.
It was formal appraisal time at the office, and a time of year that Dave dreaded. He had three people who reported into him who he was a counsellor for. With the title of counsellor came the responsibility to coach, guide and mentor. Dave’s school of thought really didn’t tolerate this human resources people management mumbo jumbo, but he’d been pulled up on it enough in the past, and didn’t want anything else to get in the way of his promotion. To him, he was a natural role model for those around him and it made more sense to allow each of them to find their own personal reasons to aspire to be more like him. Anything more formal than that was trivial.
Laura had heeded Dave’s instruction to “get the blasted things out of the way with one hit”, so had booked Dave in for back-to-back meetings during the morning with each of his counselees. The first two were easy. He’d started the day with his rising stars. They didn’t need this tripe either as far as he was concerned, but they paid lip service to the manual that the HR Chick had thrust upon Dave during the launch of “People before Profit”. It was in that session that Big Nick had spoken with Dave about his comment that “the only time People should come before Profit is in the dictionary.”
