by Mel Walker
White Collar Blues
Change is coming
Mel Walker
Post 1 round of edits– material subject to change
Copyright 2018 by Mel Walker
Chapter ONE
Most people scoff at the word routine, not Justin Grant. He pushed through the conference room door, something he had done without thinking for over twenty-nine years now at General Modifications, once the world’s leader of medical devices corporations.
His laptop buzzed a five-minute reminder of the daily eight thirty meeting, another part of his routine. Justin embraced routine. He bathed in the daily rituals, drank up the weekly status meetings, and marked his calendar for the monthly recaps.
Routine was good. It was the known. It was comfortable.
It was an illusion, much like the conference room.
CF# 72 was not on any floor plan. It didn’t exist on any map. The room a former executive suite which Justin swooped up during one of the many office re-organizations. Favors called in with the building staff. The suite transformed to a small team space for the exclusive use of Justin’s team.
Justin shifted his laptop as he stepped in. Krystal, Violet, and Chris were already seated, their plates already overflowing with treats from the breakfast buffet.
"Morning all," Justin nodded and headed straight toward the coffee dispenser. He stepped back, still wary of a team prank from a year ago. His crisp white shirt ruined that day; luckily he kept several spares in his office. As the warm liquid filled his mug, the word Shazam, a Big Bang Theory reference, turned from White to Red.
"Whoa, who ordered the pancakes?" Marcus Levins’ voice boomed, he had never entered a room quietly in his life. The motivational posters on the wall shook as Marcus made what looked like a victory lap around the large conference room table. Marcus hi-fived Violet and pounded his fist to Chris’. He shouted across the table, "Justin you can have the extra muffin, Maria is out on vacation."
"We haven't even sat yet, and you are starting trouble already Marcus?" Violet chimed in.
"Looks like our newest angel has found her voice," Marcus returned alluding to Violet's new status, she had been with General Modifications for less than three years and transferred to the headquarters facility just a month ago.
"Yeah takes a little bit to adjust to all these amenities at headquarters, out in the field we get by with beef jerky and salt licks." Violet joked about the amenities in the office.
"Remember to thank Uncle Milt for your meal," Justin reminded the group. The team laughed at Justin's ongoing meal charge to a former boss. They had their differences, but like almost everyone at General Modifications, Justin merely outlasted them. Milt Thompson, depending on your rumor source, was demoted, or transferred of his own volition, to an outpost of General Modifications in the middle of West Virginia. Justin had continued to charge the morning breakfast to Milt's new department code ever since.
"Ok, so no Maria, what about Pauly?" Krystal chimed in.
"Paul hasn't been on time since the Bush administration, the first one." Marcus returned as the team took their regular seats around the conference table. "Let's get started, whose turn is it?"
All eyes turned toward Justin.
Justin remained standing and lifted his coffee cup, the rest of the team followed suit. "Is it time to go home yet?"
"We wish," everyone returned in unison. The team paused for a beat, and repeated in synch, "how about now?"
The chant barely produced a smile from the group any longer. Muttered initially by Paul out of frustration and an early morning meeting which went sideways, the group had adopted it as their morning mantra going on two years now.
Justin bit into his muffin and began, "Violet I believe you are up first this morning.”
She connected her laptop to the projection system, the screen at the front of the room coming to life. "Gentlemen and Ladies, we have a serious developing situation that we have to deal with..." She stood for dramatic purposes, "they are serving meatloaf again this week in the cafeteria."
A loud groan swept the room.
"My god when will they learn,"
"Those bastards, I don't think procurement recovered last time, the building went through a month's supply of toilet tissue in a day," Marcus, as usual, had the last, the loudest and funniest line.
"You know what this means," Violet corralled the herd of cats back to her graphic of a man throwing up into a garbage can.
"You mean...?" Krystal played straight man for her.
"Yes, we are going to have to leave the campus for lunch."
"Not me," yelled Chris.
"Not me," matched Krystal.
"I'll do it," Justin said smiling, "they still have Uncle Milt's card on file at Connelly's. We are good up to a hundred dollars for the group."
"Please tell him that he has always been my favorite Uncle."
"Ok, who's next?" Justin said as the door flew open and in raced a haggard Paul O’Connor.
His cheeks were flushed, his breathing short, and sweat stains spotted his white shirt as if he had just run a marathon.
"Did you guys read the email yet?" Paul commanded.
"Email? Whoa, that sounds too much like real work. You know we don't start with that stuff until nine o'clock Pauly," Justin returned.
"Yeah, we got lunch menu, last night TV shows and our kids brag circle to complete before we can even discuss anything work related." Chris chimed in.
Justin noted Paul’s condition, “Where did your run from Paul? The other side of the campus?”
Paul raised his eyebrows, confused by the question, “No, just from down the hall. Why?”
Justin caught Marcus’ sight line as they both turned back toward the two-hundred and sixty-pound co-worker and both spoke at the same time, “No reason.”
Paul shook his head and pointed toward the screen, "This is important guys, quickly put it up."
Violet switched over to her email program. It stood at the top of her pile; an ominous exclamation mark flashed next to it telling the world of its importance - the headline in bold, General Modifications Corporate Announcement.
"Open it," Krystal ordered. The team sat in silence for a second as they digested its contents.
Justin began, "General Modifications has sold off two of its largest divisions, announced the spin off another as a separate company and has implemented stringent financial controls to reduce costs as they are in negotiations with Parker Medical Devices for a possible merger and or acquisition."
"Holy shit." Violet let out as she continued reading ahead. "Institutional Sales Division? That's my division."
"Holy mother, Logistics and Distribution is Maria's division. They are being spun off."
"I have a mortgage," Violet returned.
"Maria's on vacation, we've got to call her," Chris added.
"Hold on; we're not going to call anyone. Would you want to be interrupted when you are out of office?" Justin stood, "would you want someone to ruin your hard-earned holiday to tell you something that you can't control. We don't know what this means. Hell, all you are going to do is start speculation and cause her to miss out on the remainder of her time away. Let her enjoy it; she can deal with it when she returns. Anyone disagree?"
The shaking of the heads indicated that Justin's common sense prevailed.
"Besides knowing Maria, she would pack up and head back here right away. It took all of us to get her to finally take a vacation - silly woman." Marcus added. "Ok gang, you know what must be done."
"Call HR and try to decipher this memo?" Krystal added.
"No silly," Marcus continued, "order up all the office supplies you can get approved because you know that will be the first thing they cut. I've had
my eye on this mini-fridge which fits perfectly under my desk, slides right under the bottom drawer, you'll never know it’s there."
The team laughed.
Paul interrupted once again. "There is a rumor that the executives from Parker are on the twenty-fifth floor right now."
That caused silence in the room. The office of the CEO and legal resided on the top floor.
"Shit," muttered Marcus. "Jacob Evans likes to get his hands dirty. If he’s involved these talks must be pretty serious. I don't know anything about these Parker people, but I suggest we brush up as they are going to be our new bosses shortly. It's been an honor working with each and every one of you."
Justin stood, "really Marcus,you went with an End of the World reference. That movie sucked. Guys don't worry about it, I’ve been here twenty-nine years, these things come and go. We'll be fine, you'll see in the next few months, nothing is going to change, they take forever for them to work through legal, and filter down to our level."
The team turned with the beep of a new email arriving in Violet’s inbox. The headline read Organizational Announcement: Come and meet your new departmental leadership.
"Wow, seven minutes, yeah Justin that took forever. What the hell have those guys been working on all morning?" Marcus added, "as I said, it's been a pleasure, and I suggest you grab an extra muffin on your way out."
Justin stood with his coffee cup in hand as the team disbanded. As the doors swung open, Justin noticed the increased noise and activity in the ordinarily quiet halls. As the last of the group left the room, Justin sipped his coffee. His thoughts turned from the chaos of his morning to his wife, Leslie.
The mere thought of her brought a calmness to him as he gathered his laptop and decided to prep for his next meeting.
No sense disrupting his routine.
Chapter Two
Leslie Grant woke to a cool room, a warm heart and the remnants of a kiss on her cheek. As she stretched her arms, she opened her eyes to the bright sunshine of another beautiful day. Her eyes caught sight just as her hand stumbled across the note on the pillow. The simple inscription brought the first smile of the day.
A simple cursive letter U.
She ran her tongue across her lower lip and bit down, excited as she flipped open the note.
Today is yours – own it. The note, short, to the point and signed with a simple Me.
It embodied everything about her husband, short, to the point, thoughtful, considerate and when it came to her playful. She pushed back the covers and listened for any trace of him. The silence merely confirmed what she already knew.
Her husband Justin was a man of routine.
Up at the crack of dawn, ten minutes of checking overnight reports and emails, fifteen minutes of exercise, shower and change like a ninja, never making a sound. A kiss on the cheek, he’d set the coffee timer for her on the way out of the house.
Yes, occasionally she’d love to wake in his arms, spend a lazy day in bed, but Justin never took a day off of work. Impressed when she first realized it decades ago, it became a point of contention around year four. Now, after twenty-five years of marriage, it was just a fact of life.
If Justin was the steady rock of predictability, Leslie was the river current, flowing and adapting to her environment. Her schedule and approach to life nearly as unpredictable as a wind storm.
Her finger flicked the note, once again, it the latest reminder of the importance of today. Her outfit, already pressed and prepped outside the closet door.
She pushed up off the bed, slipping her manicured toes into her soft plush slippers. She wrapped herself in her short silk robe, the one which never failed to make her feel sexy. Her long, lean legs peeked out as Leslie tied the sash. She glanced over her shoulder, the top drawer of her nightstand slightly ajar, the sunlight reflecting off the metallic magic bullet sex toy.
A naughty smirk crept across her face as she glanced across the room at the clock radio. It mocked her, not enough time, that bit of pleasure would have to wait.
She pushed the drawer shut as the smell of the coffee brewing caused a growl in her stomach. The piped piper whiff caused her feet to move on auto-pilot, taking her out of the large bedroom to the top of the staircase.
The sunlight bounced off the crystal chandelier which hung in the foyer. The staircase balcony overlooking the large alcove entrance which featured vaulted ceilings and a massive glass window.
“I fucking love this house,” she whispered. Probably the closest to a routine she possessed. Over fifteen years in this house, a house she had placed so much sweat equity into that she had already resolved she would never live anywhere else for the rest of her life.
Her feet practically glided down the steps as the power of coffee called her. As she reached the bottom step, she paused as her nose picked up another scent. If she wasn’t mistaken a distinctive mix of cinnamon and sweetness. She covered her mouth to hide the smile as her mind raced to a full-on Cinnamon and blueberry pancake breakfast, her favorite, a treat Justin made for her on her birthday for many years. She couldn’t recall how many years it had been since he had prepared that treat.
As she entered the kitchen, her eyes scanned the empty counter. She turned toward the dining room table and came up empty as well. Perplexed, she stepped toward the coffee maker. Sitting next to it was an iPad, it flashed an animated picture of a full country breakfast. Pancakes, eggs, bacon, all in living color. Next to the iPad sat a gift card to Max’s diner with a note, breakfast is on me, enjoy.
Leslie shook her head as she fought the instinct to rip to shreds the gift card. As she closed the iPad, she noticed for the first time the scented candle burning. She recognized the logo, an internet company which Justin often used to order gag gifts. The label mocked her – Cinnamon Pancake flavor – it will make their mouth water
It most certainly did, Leslie thought as she blew out the candle and tossed it in the trash. She poured a cup of coffee as she ignored the grumbling of her stomach. She shook her head as she noticed the clock if she wasn’t going to eat at least, she had time for a guilty pleasure that would satisfy another of her desires.
She practically leaped up the steps, two at a time, as she pushed the thoughts of the failed breakfast from her mind and focused on the treat in her nightstand drawer. One way or another, she would not be denied satisfaction.
Chapter Three
Justin adjusted his chair as he laid out the laptop and the five by five color-coded grid next to it. "We about ready?" he said as he nodded across the conference room table at Krystal, Chris, Paul, and Marcus.
"Dialing in now," Krystal said as she punched in a series of numbers on the telepad at the center of the table. The video conference screen appeared on the projection screen in the front of the room.
"Are we sure they can't see us?" a concerned Paul asked.
"Yes Paul, we will not have a repeat of the pony incident," Marcus said.
"Pony incident?" Chris queried.
"Don't ask," Justin said. "Krystal, make sure we are on mute."
The overhead speakers engaged as the numbers dialed out loud filling up the conference room. The team settled back in their respective chairs as their attention was drawn toward the screen. It showed a much larger conference room with about fifty people. Most were sitting while others stood in the background filling little plates with snacks and cups with coffee.
"They have snacks." Marcus commented, "I’ll be right back, hold on." Marcus made a mark on his grid and then disappeared from the conference room.
"Welcome to the General Modification Conference System. At the tone, please enter your conference number followed by the pound sign." Krystal followed the prompts, entering the passcode. The prompts continued, "At the tone, please state your name followed by the pound sign."
"Michael Jackson - hehe," yelled Chris before Krystal pressed the button.
"Jack ass," she muttered as she pounded on the console and sat.
The system con
nected to the conference number, "now joining Michael Jackson heh heh," it stated. The smiles in the conference room quickly faded as the system continued, "now joining Jack Ass."
"Oh shit," Krystal muttered as she glanced down at the pad to confirm it was securely placed on mute. "I hate you, Chris." She glared at Chris who was losing his battle with laughter as he bent over at the waist.
In the conference room on the screen, several heads went up as they attempted to comprehend what they heard. Doug Hart leaned toward the Polycom, "who just joined?"
Chris began to reach toward the Polycom as Krystal pointed at him, "don't you fucking think about it."
"Now, now children. Behave,..." a late arriving Violet said entering the conference room. She carried with her a color-coded grid like the others. "Did Doug ask who's just joined yet?"
"He just did, we just have to wait for him to say it four more times," Paul added.
The system beeped again and announced the arrival of yet another participant. "Who's just joined?" The person announced themselves as Doug continued, "we are going to get started in two minutes," he was interrupted yet again by the beep, "Who's just joined?"
"Two more, come on you bastard," Paul added.
"Holy crap, take a look at the screen." Justin directed the team, "upper left."
"It's Marcus," Chris added.
Marcus had traveled down one flight to the main conference room and now appeared in the back of the room. In his hand was a large paper plate which he diligently loaded up with snacks.
"Oatmeal cookies," Paul screamed at the screen.
"No, grab the pretzels, I have a craving," yelled Justin.
Almost as if he heard the screams, Marcus grabbed a handful of cookies and a bag of pretzels and loaded them onto his plate. He gave a small wave toward the camera in the room and quietly slipped out the back door exit.
With snacks on the way the team's attention slowly returned to the Polycom just as Doug was finishing up his roll call "Who's just joined? We are getting started."
