The Next Best Thing

by Deidre Berry

  I took the elevator up to the sixty-eighth floor, where I slid the electronic passkey across the black security box until the light turned green. The lock to the glass door clicked, and I was in. I made sure to show up halfway through the morning, which is usually around the time Sophie decides to make it to the office.

  “Good morning!” I said enthusiastically to everyone who crossed my path. A few of my co-workers looked as astonished as they did my first day back after wedding-gate, but I did not stop for chitchat. I was on a mission.

  Sophie’s office was my goal, and once I reached the open door I saw Erin and Sophie quietly strategizing over an open file.

  “Good morning, ladies,” I said, stepping into the office. “Did you miss me?”

  Erin smiled weakly, looking like a fat kid caught with a mouth full of pie.

  Sophie played it cool, though. She reminded me of the Meryl Streep character in The Devil Wears Prada. “Tori, what a surprise,” she murmured through those wafer-thin, nearly nonexistent lips of hers.

  “I’m sure it is,” I said. “But I’m not going to stay long. I just came to have a quick face-to-face meeting with you, Sophie.”

  Sophie nodded to Erin to get lost, and Erin ran from the room without making eye contact with me.

  So it’s true. The disloyal, opportunistic heifer!

  I closed the door behind Erin, and lasered in on Sophie.

  There was no sense in pussyfooting around, so I immediately cut right to the chase. “Do you still plan to make me President of SWE when you retire?” I asked.

  Sophie looked taken aback by the question, but her voice was calm and controlled.

  “Glad you brought that up, Tori, because truthfully some things have changed in regards to the future of the business after I retire.”

  “And what would that be?” I asked.

  “I have decided to keep SWE in the family.”

  “Really, now?” I asked. “So where does that leave me?”

  “Tori,” Sophie said, as if talking to a moron. “You helped build this company to what it is today, so of course you will always have a home and a career here.”

  “That still doesn’t answer the question,” I insisted.

  “Will you be my successor? Unfortunately not,” Sophie said. “But SWE can always use good coordinators, and that you definitely are.”

  Sophie’s words were like a verbal slap in the face.

  All these years of personal sacrifice and this is the thanks I get, a Blahnik heel right in the fucking back. Hell, I didn’t even take sick days despite having the flu and temperatures of over 103 degrees, because that was how committed I was.

  “So after all these years of telling me that I was your heir apparent, you suddenly decide to groom Erin for that position?” I asked.

  “Well, she is family,” Sophie said without a trace of emotion or loyalty towards me. “I didn’t bring her here from Omaha for nothing.”

  “And just when were you planning to tell me all this?” I asked.

  “Just as soon as you came back off of vacation,” Sophie said blithely.

  “I don’t believe you. If I hadn’t put two-and-two together, you would have waited until the very day you retired to give me the news,” I said, amused at the precision with which Sophie had played me all these years. “What better way to keep a workhorse working than to dangle rewards and treats in front of it to keep it focused on the task at hand? In this case, it was Work harder, Tori. It will all pay off in the long run. You’re my heir apparent, you know!”

  “And I meant that at the time, but your recent screw-ups would have cost SWE in excess of two-hundred thousand dollars if I hadn’t stepped in and cleaned up your mess. I don’t play about my money, Tori. I told you that on day one.”

  Ooh! Didn’t I say she was greedy?

  I had a few lapses in judgment after going through a personal crisis, and this coldhearted woman turned on me like a rabid pit bull.

  “You know, Sophie, I really wish you would have told me all this at our last meeting here in your office, because if you had, we wouldn’t be having this conversation right now.”

  “So what are you saying, Tori?”

  “Find yourself another workhorse, Sophie, because I quit!”

  “So you’re just going to take your ball and go home, all because you won’t be the boss around here when I retire? Not exactly what I would call a team player,” Sophie said in a condescending tone.

  I opened my mouth to cuss her up one side and down the other, but I held back. We could sit here and play tit for tat all day long, and it still wouldn’t change the bottom line, which is that Sophie will no longer be able to use and deceive me.

  “Have a lovely fucking day” were the last words I said to Sophie as I left her office for the last time.

  And that right there was my Jerry Maguire moment. While I cleaned out my office, I was so pumped up and proud of myself, thinking, Yeah, I told that old bitch!

  It was only after I had walked back out into the light of day that I realized what I had done.

  By the time the sun had set, I was in a complete panic.

  Hysteria had taken over, because my prospects for a job equal to what I had were nil.

  “What the hell am I gonna do now?” I wailed, as Nelson massaged my neck and shoulders. I had called him over to discuss my plight, because at that point he was the only person I trusted to give me a neutral assessment of the situation.

  “You’re going to do the only thing you can do,” Nelson counseled, “which is pick up the pieces and move on.”

  Easier said than done.

  I had picked up a newspaper on the way home, and perused the want ads right there in the 7-Eleven parking lot.

  And guess what? Nobody is looking for an event planner.

  Sophie pretty much has Kansas City locked down, anyway. Well, except for David O’Brien Designs, which is SWE’s fiercest competitor. A male version of Sophie, David has shamelessly wooed away many quality employees right out from under us over the years.

  In fact, the last time David stole an assistant of mine, I picked up the phone and cursed him out so thoroughly that I almost felt bad for him when I was done.

  Almost.

  So in light of the bad blood between us, there is no way I’m tucking my tail between my legs and asking David for a job. No way.

  “I spent the best years of my life busting my ass for someone else, and I have absolutely nothing to show for it,” I moaned, feeling a pity party coming on.

  “That’s not true, Tori,” Nelson said. “You have a good reputation, and a wealth of creativity and experience.”

  “Whoopee!” I said sarcastically. “And that’s going to pay a whole lot of bills, isn’t it.”

  “It could if you would stop being so shortsighted and look at the bigger picture here.”

  “And what would that be?” I asked, wondering what picture he was looking at, because the one in front of me was pretty fucking bleak.

  “Didn’t you just say that you were practically running the show at SWE for the last couple of years, anyway?”

  “Yeah…” I said feebly.

  “Well, it seems obvious to me that if you want an opportunity you have to create one for yourself. Why don’t you take a risk and start your own event-planning business?” He said it so simply, that I felt like a moron for not considering the possibility sooner.

  I sucked it up, dried my tears, and gave Nelson a big kiss.

  “What’s that for?” he asked, surprised by my sudden change in attitude.

  “For being you,” I said. “And for helping me to see the bigger picture.”

  In order to succeed, at times you have to make something from nothing.—Ruth Mickleby-Land

  THURSDAY

  Of course! When you are the best at what you do, why not gamble on yourself and start your own business?

  There is no one in this town, or in this world for that matter, who can do what I do as well as I do it. S
ince the start of my career, I have brought in millions of dollars in revenue for SWE, and now it is time for me to do the same for Tori Carter Creations. I chose the name for obvious reasons, and so that clients I have worked with in the past will know that I am now in business for myself.

  I may not have the staff, resources, or beautiful office space that SWE has, but I do have a Rolodex full of client and vendor contact information, which besides a business plan, and a business license, is pretty much all I need to get started. My business will have to start off being a one-woman show operating out of my home office, but there is light at the end of the tunnel. It might be kind of faint right now, but where there is light…

  TO-DO LIST

  1) Write up a Business Plan.

  2) Go to City Hall and file documents for Business License and Sole Proprietorship.

  3) Business cards.

  4) Stock up on basic office supplies.

  5) Update my portfolio.

  6) Get color brochures printed up, listing the services I have to offer.

  7) Have website built.

  8) Go to bank and apply for a line of credit, and open a business checking account.

  9) Hire an assistant.

  38

  Within two weeks of leaving SWE, I am proud to say that Tori Carter Creations is now officially open for business!

  The first thing I did after leaving the courthouse with my new business license was to pull out my Rolodex and start smiling and dialing. I informed all the vendors and clients who I’ve worked with in the past, that I am no longer working with SWE and am now in business for myself.

  My goal is to make two hundred fifty calls every day until I get to the end of my list of eleven thousand contacts. In addition to the phone calls, I also plan to mail out letters to these people, which will include a brochure and my new business card.

  So far, everyone I have contacted has wished me well, and promised they would call me when it comes time to put on their next event.

  However, my luck turned around this afternoon when I contacted Sasha Daniels, an old friend of mine from college. Sasha happens to be the chairperson on the board of directors of the KC Jazz Coalition, and when I got in touch with her, she sounded both happy and relieved to hear from me.

  “God is good!” Sasha said when I told her who was calling. “It’s time to start planning this year’s fundraiser, and I was just about to go into panic mode when you called.”

  Sasha told me she called SWE looking for me a few days ago, and was told I had resigned with no advance notice or even an explanation.

  I’m not at all surprised that Sophie would try to harm my reputation. She is an extremely shrewd businesswoman and I’m sure she already knows that I’m coming to give her a run for her money. Why not try to stomp out the competition before it has a chance to get started?

  I assured Sasha that what she had been told about me was far from the truth.

  “Oh, I figured that,” she said. “After all, you were the best thing they had going over there at SWE, so of course they have to make it look as if it’s you, and not them.”

  “Well, I definitely appreciate the vote of confidence,” I said, with a sigh of relief.

  “And just so you know, Tori, I’m on your side. You’ve been in charge of the fundraiser for the last several years, and I don’t see any reason why that should change now. No one knows or understands our goals more than you do, and your concepts and ideas have helped to bring in millions of dollars for the coalition over the years, so, I’m afraid you’re stuck with us for as long as you’ll have us.”

  Yes!

  The KC Jazz Coalition is all about the preservation of jazz music. The organization puts on an annual fundraiser, which benefits indigent musicians and provides scholarships for young up-and-coming jazz musicians.

  I absolutely love working with them. They are all good people over there, and it is always rewarding to be a part of such a worthy cause.

  Sasha and I set a time and date to sign contracts and further discuss details. I was so thrilled after hanging up the phone, that I did a couple of cartwheels across the living room floor.

  I have my first client, now all I need is an assistant.

  Someone who won’t come in with the intention of learning the ropes on my time and my dime, and then run off to do their own thing as soon as they think they have a working knowledge of the business. I want an assistant who is trustworthy and loyal, yet capable of being creative and focused at the same time.

  That’s what I want. But realistically, I’m gonna have to settle for what I can get.

  With the knowledge that most dynasties are built by keeping it in the family, I stopped by Junior’s midtown apartment to offer him the opportunity of a lifetime.

  Yeah, it’s a risky decision and his middle name should be “fuck up,” but I think that with the proper guidance, and assurance that he has a stake in something real, Junior will rise to the occasion.

  Besides, he may be family, but I will fire his ass in a heartbeat if he doesn’t perform up to my standards.

  Junior’s place always gives me the creeps. It’s so filthy that I always have to shake myself off right outside his apartment door when I leave, in order to avoid taking some type of critter home with me.

  “What’s up, sis?” Junior said, letting me into his pigsty without an ounce of shame.

  As usual, there were stacks of smelly, unwashed dishes in the sink, and it looked like the last time the kitchen floor was mopped or swept, was when I felt sorry enough for him to do it.

  “What’s up?” I asked, running a finger along the coffee table where there was a thick layer of dust. “Obviously not a cleaning routine.”

  “Ah, that’s nothing,” Junior said, grabbing a pile of clothes from off the couch and stuffing them into the hall closet. “Cop a squat.”

  “No thanks,” I said. “I’ll stand.”

  “So what did you want to talk to me about?”

  “Are you still working down at Federal Express?”

  “Nah, that gig didn’t work out,” he said. “But I’m in the middle of writing a book, though.”

  “And who’s paying you to do that?” I asked.

  “Nobody…” he stammered. “But it’s a hip-hop crime novel, and it’s gonna pay off one day. Trust me.”

  I rolled my eyes and shook my head.

  Junior latches onto something new every six weeks. He goes from one pipe dream to another in an effort to avoid a real job in the real world.

  First, he wanted to be a music producer.

  Then there was Amway, eBay, distributing noni juice, and the clothing line that never got off the ground.

  Now he wants to write hip-hop crime novels? Stop the madness.

  “What do you even know about thugging it out on the streets?” I asked. “You’ve been sheltered and pampered your whole life.”

  “Shiiit…I’ve been through some thangs.”

  “Like what? Boy, you pissed the bed until you were nine, and you’re way too lazy to hustle. So what is your source of inspiration?”

  “Man,” Junior said, sucking his teeth. “There you go, always shitting on my dreams. Why can’t you be supportive for once?”

  “Supportive, hmmm, let me see…” I said. “Like letting you live with me rent-free for months? Cosigning on a car you let get repossessed, bailing your ass out of jail, and kicking you out money like I’m your own personal ATM?”

  “Anyway,” Junior said, “what’s really good? I know you didn’t take time out of your day just to come over here and jump on my case again.”

  “No, actually I came over here to offer you a chance to pull your own weight in this world instead of living off the fat of the land, and preying on loved ones because you are too immature to grow up and finally stand on your own two feet,” I said without taking a breath.

  Junior sat looking at me as if I had just performed an amazing magic trick. “Damn!” he said. “You have been wanting to get th
at off your chest for a while, huh?”

  “Look, Junior. I’m just a little bit stressed right now, okay? I’m starting up my own event-planning business, and I need your help.”

  “Say no more. What do you need me to do?” he asked.

  “I want you to work as my assistant, which includes no slacking, or goofing around,” I said. “This is serious business, with some serious money to be made, but you have to be on your toes at all times.”

  “Got you, sis,” Junior acknowledged, looking serious. “When do I start?”

  “Right now,” I said, giving him a long list of errands to run.

  “Now? I was just about to start a tournament on Madden!” he protested.

  I was just about to rip into Junior, when he said, “Psych! I was just messing with you, Tori. Come on, let’s get busy.”

  39

  These past couple of months with Nelson have been so perfect, it almost makes me wonder if and when the other shoe is going to drop. The two of us have so much in common, it’s crazy. For instance, Nelson and I are both art lovers, so we decided to spend this afternoon at the Museum of Art.

  We had a great time browsing the exhibits, and just enjoying each other’s company. Halfway through lunch at the Rozzelle Court Restaurant inside the museum, Nelson suddenly became quiet and disconnected.

  “Nelson, what’s wrong?” I asked, concerned that he may have been coming down with food poisoning, or something.

  “Nothing.” He shrugged, picking at his plate of pan-seared lime-garlic tuna fillet.

  I dropped the subject and continued to enjoy my Cobb salad, but I noticed that Nelson kept glancing at something over my shoulder. I turned around, and seated right behind us was this woman with a wild bushel of curly brown hair, reminiscent of Kara’s. The woman’s back was turned, so I couldn’t see her face, but she had the same complexion, mannerisms, and style of dress as Kara. Hell, if I didn’t know better I would have thought it was Kara.

  Then I understood why Nelson had become so sad and withdrawn. I didn’t like it. But I understood.