by Karen Gordon
I try not to look shocked when he seems genuinely happy to see me. “Vivienne, good morning, I’m glad you’re here. Jack is ready to get started.” There’s a slight emphasis on glad that hints of doubts that I was going to show up. Did he think I was quitting?
“Great. Let’s get him set up in the upstairs main office and I’ll start bringing in the aviation magazine reporters.” The idea that Joel is pleasantly surprised to see me ups my moxey. I turn to Jack. “I’m sure you’re ready to talk in detail about the J88 after your test flight.”
He shoots me another sideways glare before mounting the stairs ahead of his dad then me.
✈ ✈ ✈
As the morning progresses it becomes more and more obvious that Joel was really worried that I was going to leave Jack, or more accurately, leave him to deal with his own mess of a son. He’s practically tripping over himself to be accommodating to me.
“Have you had a chance to get out on the town at all?”
Small talk from Joel, it smacks of him wooing me into his job. And it also reminds me that I’m not the same girl I was back then. I’ve learned how to play the game and I’m learning how to break the rules.
“No, I’ve been pretty busy with Jack.” And we both know that I don’t mean getting any work done.
He’s got his work poker-face on and only gives me a nod but I know he gets my meaning.
The interviews are going ok. If there is one thing Jack knows how to do it’s make a joke. He has lots of funny lines and great stories about the capabilities of the J88 from his test ride. He’s actually quick enough to leave out the engine fail. I tune him out and people watch on the sales floor below me. I see Bob in an intense meeting with some customers. I’m dying to talk to him but I know he will be all business all day, maybe later. We’ve hired some local models to hand out bags with our logo on them and sales collateral inside. From my perch I can see how silly this is. Men are approaching the beauties to be near them and get a bag but the interaction has zero to do with interest in our company. The models have not been briefed on one thing to say to bring people into the display. And the bags are one grade above the hundreds of others being handed out but most will end up in the trash.
I’m brought back by the interview ending. The reporters are shaking Jack’s hand. Joel is there but he’s hanging back and I can see they aren’t sure if they should deal with him or not. In general this is not a smooth transition of power.
Once they are gone Joel announces to the room that he thought that went well. It might be the closest Jack has ever come to getting a compliment from him. I feel a brief spike of happiness for him but it’s quickly overcome by the enormous amount of contempt I feel for him. On the outside I’m cool and calm but inside I’m a jumble of conflicting emotions. I feel sorry for Jack and I hate him. I’m happy I still have a job, or am I? There is still a residual need to please Joel but it’s fading as it becomes obvious that they want me more than I want them.
I notice that Joel goes to the snack area and gets himself a bottle of water. As he opens it he dismisses Jack.
“I need to meet with Vivienne.” He turns to Jack to make sure he gets the message. “Alone.”
There is a charged moment of silence before Jack gets up out of his chair and walks toward the door. Before he can leave the room Joel adds, “Don’t leave the booth.”
Oh, ouch. He doesn’t turn around but I can see Jack’s shoulders bunch up as he takes the hit of being talked to like an errant child. Ok, he is one, but it’s still uncomfortable to see him treated like it. He doesn’t shut the door so Joel does before sitting across from me.
✈ ✈ ✈
This is what I feared all night last night, this meeting. This is actually my greatest fear since the day I started working with Jack but, now that I’m here, I’m not afraid. In fact, I’ve lost all emotion about keeping my or losing my job.
And it feels good, really good. I can breathe and there is no tight ball in my gut. I sit a little taller in my window sill and hope Joel notices the change.
“I wondered if you would show up today.” Direct as always.
“I don’t quit easily.”
He grins. “No, no you don’t.” He takes a sip of water and I see my opportunity in the pause.
“I want to move to the Sales department.” Since I’m asking for a job I throw in, “sir.”
I get an empathetic nod before he replies. “I understand, but your position has been filled there.”
I stand up, wanting the height over him and also bursting with new energy. I’m about to push hard at my boundaries. “I realize that, however, I am interested in a sales position.”
He didn’t see that one coming. He has to take another sip of water to buy time as he sorts out his reply. I wait patiently as he then puts the bottle on a nearby table and sits back in his chair, the king about to pass judgement on a servant.
He speaks slowly, like I might not understand. “That position requires a degree.”
I know of at least two in I-sales who are a few credits short of their degrees so I counter. “That’s true, but I believe there are several in sales who are currently working on their degrees. I’m interested in getting one so I would qualify if I were to start on one.”
My knowledge is pissing him off more than selling him over. “It won’t work.”
“May I ask why?”
“Cut the shit, Vivienne.” He’s obviously had enough of this conversation and is going to end it. “You are Jack’s secretary. I know it isn’t a great position to be in right now, but it will be. He needs your skills to bring him to that level.”
Cut the shit? The meeting has ratcheted into anger, releasing a flood of fury I’ve been holding back for months. “Bring him to that level? I don’t know what level that is, but I don’t see that happening.” I pause for a quick breath before I start in again, not giving him time to reply. “Because I am doing his work for him. He doesn’t do any of it. I am being paid less than one fifth of his salary to do all his work.”
He can’t deny what he knows is true so he grasps for a thread he can deal with. “It’s the money, is that it? Fine, I’ll change your pay grade to give you an increase. You’ve had several bonuses already.”
I throw my hands up in frustration. (I’ve been spending too much time with Annalize.) “It’s not the money. I…the job…it’s impossible. You’ve given me an impossible task.” My rage is dissipating. “I would like another job, one that I can succeed at.”
He’s shaking his head before I can finish my sentence. “It can’t happen.” He gets up out of his chair, indicating that the meeting is ending. And he gets the final word. “Let me know how much you want and I’ll make it happen.”
He is long gone and I am still over-analyzing. What just happened? I got an opened-ended raise? I start to sit, to do something, but I can’t. I’m too agitated because the results of my analysis have me paralyzed. I’m stuck. I’ve got a golden noose around my neck that will keep me from going anywhere in JetStream, possibly anywhere at all. Where else will I begin to match my current salary, let alone the exorbitant amount I’m about to demand? Joel didn’t help me out, he made my noose thicker and shinier and harder to remove.
Chapter Twelve
It’s close to eleven thirty so I use the excuse of lunch to leave the booth. I need to get away from both Jack and Joel. Just looking at them makes me feel suffocated. I breathe a little easier with each step farther from JetStream goliath of a display in the center of the main room. Two halls down, I see an outdoor café with shade and a steady stream of cool mist. I’m drawn to the calm oasis but before I can reach the doors I’m waylaid by a familiar Italian voice.
“Vivienne.”
My first instinct is to pretend I didn’t hear her. It’s really loud in here so it’s feasible. I’m not ready for her passionate, space-invading energy right now. I’m too much of a husk of my usual self, my marrow sucked out by the Rockhurst men. It turns out that I can add
speed-walking in heels to her already impressive resume. She reaches me before I have a chance to evade.
“Vivienne, cara.” She sweeps in and kisses me on both cheeks.
I pull from deep resources to find the steam to reply. “Hi Annalize.” I back up a little with the excuse of checking out her outfit. “Look at you, wow. You look fantastic today.” She does, of course. She’s wearing a suit but it clings to her in all the right places. Her hair is up and tousled, black curls framing her sultry eyes.
I try to make small talk that I can follow-up with a quick getaway. “Where’s your booth?”
Instead of pointing she waves a dismissive hand to our right. “Mikel told me to leave for a while. I get too much attention. No one is looking at his plane.”
We are blocking part of an aisle but I know that isn’t the reason men are staring as they pass. She is distracting.
“I was coming to look for you.”
I force my smile to stay in place. I need solitude, not time as Annalize’s playmate. But I don’t see much of any way out of it and she is really good at making me forget my troubles. Life around her is always entertaining. I gesture toward the café. “I was about to get some lunch. Do you want to join me?”
“Of course.” She takes my hand. “Let’s go tell Mikel and see if he will take a break and join us.”
✈ ✈ ✈
Despite how innovative and amazing their jet is their booth is small and lost amid the flashier, bigger ones. All four men are crowded into one space along with the model of the jet. The banner behind them announces their company name but the rest of the text is in Italian. It probably talks about the jet but most people at the convention won’t know that. Instead of glossy folders the men are handing out business cards to anyone who happens to wander into their space. Mikel welcomes his wife with a kiss but the others don’t exactly hide their frustration at her returning to the booth. She, of course, ignores them.
“Vivienne and I are going to have lunch over there. You should come too.”
I can’t help but chuckle at the way she always proclaims, never asks.
“Can you bring something here?”
She shrugs. She clearly wanted some Mikel time. “I will try.”
“And whatever you bring, get some for the others.”
That really doesn’t sit well and she pouts. Annalize does not see herself as a waitress.
Mikel ignores her pout and turns his attention to me. “Is everything good? With your job?”
I almost forgot that I told them I might be unemployed today. “I still have a job.” It’s not good, but I do.
“After lunch I should meet this boss of yours.” Annalize looks like she is dying to give him some grief. I’m tempted to let her. Only with her, he’d enjoy it way too much.
Mikel leans in and kisses her cheek. “Anna, we don’t want to cause trouble for her.”
She raises her brows. “We don’t?”
A telling glance bounces around the booth. Annalize has said too much again. Mikel starts to correct her but stops and looks at me.
“We were talking about you last night.” He confesses. “We all agree that you would be a good addition to our team. We need your sales knowledge.”
It’s so loosely worded I’m not sure if it’s a job offer. “You want me to come work for you?”
“Si…but…”He breathes out a sigh. “There is more to tell you. Perhaps we can talk after lunch? If you are interested?
Hell yes, I’m interested. This man might be offering me a way to cut my way out of this golden noose. “Um, yeah, I’m definitely interested.”
He seems relieved. “Good, then we will talk later.”
He pulls Annalize into a hug and kisses her forehead so as not to ruin her lipstick. “Enjoy your lunch with Vivienne.” Then he grabs my hand and pulls me in for air kisses on both cheeks. “And we will talk.”
✈ ✈ ✈
Everything I order for lunch tastes perfect. My iced tea is extra refreshing and the misty breeze caresses my skin. I’m on cloud nine where everything takes on a rosy sheen. But despite this and how much I’m enjoying Annalize’s company, I rush through lunch. I’m dying to hear what Mikel has to offer. Almost anything would be better than what I have now.
I’m guessing they want to hire me to sell their planes and I do quick mental math on the possible commission on each. I don’t know their actual price and I’m dying to do some quick research. I take advantage of Annalize being distracted ordering to-go lunches for the others.
Eighty million dollars. I shake my head to make sure my eyes are working and look at my phone screen again. I count the zero’s--sure enough, eighty million. Annalize catches me on my phone and stares me into putting it away. Combining work and meals is plainly as huge no-no with her. She also made no mention of the job offer while we were eating.
We chat about the heat and the importance of staying out of the sun while we wait but my mind is only half there. Luckily she doesn’t notice. Before we leave two men approach to ask for a photo. I’m buzzing too much with excitement to be bothered but it occurs to me that this must get really old for Mikel.
Back at the booth she distributes lunches and the guys organize who will eat first as the others keep working, an idea that has Annalize shaking her head in disgust. “So American,” She explains.
I hang out at try to casually study the model of the plane and search for some sort of literature. I need more info and I need it now. I’m like a junkie trying to casually score a hit. It also feels like Mikel is chewing painfully slowly and talking to Anna too much. Eat faster man, can’t you see I’m dying here.
I’m staring, counting the number of times he chews his last bite. He finally swallows but then he opens his bottle of water and drinks, and drinks. That’s enough…let’s talk. For dessert he thanks Annalize, hugs and kisses her then makes sure she is alright with him leaving. Out of the corner of my eye I can see Victor roll his eyes at Geoff. They are not thrilled that she will be left there with them while Mikel and I meet.
Finally, Mikel takes my hand and leads me from the booth. “Let’s talk.”
I’m not sure how I feel about my possible future boss holding my hand. I realize Italians are much more physical than Americans but it still feels strange being led through the crowd by this man. I also reason that it wouldn’t have felt nearly as odd only a few hours ago when we were friends. He leads me to a quiet area outside, far from the bustling convention floor and gestures for me to sit. He pulls a pack of cigarettes from his pants pocket and offers me one. I decline. He lights one then takes a long drag before talking.
“After our meeting yesterday everyone was saying how much you helped us. You are a very shrewd woman.”
I sit a little taller at his assessment and let the now-foreign feeling of appreciation wash over me. It feels good.
“Then last night, when you said that you might not have a job…” He takes another drag from his cigarette. “We talked some more. We are all in agreement. We would like it if you could come to work with us. We need a representative in North America.”
I nod. I’m interested “Go on.”
“You would be the only rep we would have here, exclusive territory, possibly South America too.”
He notices my wide eyes. “We are just getting started. We might have one or two potential customers in that area right now.”
“Ok.” That sounds like something I could handle, especially at first.
“We have a jet, but only one.” I nod, he takes a drag. “It is in Italy. We are taking orders. We could offer it for you to use for demonstration flights but we would need to coordinate.”
So far so good. He taps the ashes off his cigarette before continuing. “But…” He looks at me for emphasis. “We cannot pay you.”
And there’s the cloud in front of my silver lining. I nod slowly as I process this blow.
“Only commission—one percent.” He’s half way through a drag when he stops to
add. “Plus necessary expenses.” There’s an emphasis on ‘necessary’ hinting at their tight budget.
One percent would be eight hundred thousand dollars. If I sold one, just one, I would be set.
“If you would want to move to Italy I could offer you some insurance.” He waves his hand looking for a better way to say it. “Benefits. But I cannot afford that if you stay here. And, we would want you to stay here.”
My mental tic sheet is filling up fast. On one hand I have JetStream: solid, huge, benefits galore—bonuses, vacation, sick leave, insurance, retirement…the list is long. On the other hand is risk, no pay, no benefits, but the possibility of a huge payout—an amount I could only make in sales at JetStream.
He finishes his cigarette, snubs it out on the ground then reaches for my hand again. “I can see you have a lot to think about.”
I can’t even look at him. I’m too focused on the columns in my head.
“Take your time, but know we want you to join us.”
The way he says it is a strong reminder of the other two factors I have to add in. On one side is respect and appreciation; on the other side is…Jack.”
Chapter Thirteen
“Do it.” Dom doesn’t hesitate to weigh in on her side of the tic sheet when I call her.
“I didn’t tell you all of it, and you know I can’t make a decision that fast, especially a big one.” We’re in our standard roles for major life decisions. Dom is pushing and I am hedging. It’s another reason we work so good together. We’re the yin/yang of bold and cautious, guts and brains, optimist and realist.
“I need to sit down and look at how long I can live off what I have if I don’t sell one for a year…or two.”
“You need to look at the buzz about them because I am.” I can hear her clicking away on her keyboard. “They’ve only had one complete jet for a few months and they’ve gotten a lot of interest.” More clicking. “Here’s a prediction that they could be backordered for years. I’m thinking your chances are very good for selling one in the first year, maybe the first couple of months.” Of course Dom also knows that I will only accept cheerleading when it’s backed up by solid evidence and resources.