“Okay, dark hair, blonde, or what? Is he a sun-worshipper?”
Lydia smiled. To Sharon, these things were of the utmost importance. “Well, he’s dark. But that may just be because he’s Italian.”
“He’s Italian? Oh my God, I love Italians!”
Lydia laughed. Sharon was so dramatic.
“Is his hair coal black?”
“You’re drooling,” Lydia teased.
“Come on, dammit! I want details!”
Lydia took a sip of her drink; it was half-empty. “His hair’s brown, but dark, almost black. And it’s thick with just a slight wave, and it falls on his forehead here.” She showed her. “How’s that?”
“Fine. Now what about his face?”
“His face? Hmph…I’m not sure I can describe it. He has such a mean look about him.”
“Mean?”
Lydia nodded, with some drama of her own. “He’s got eyes like a Doberman, Sharon. A Doberman that’s growling.”
“Damn! And I was just getting hooked.”
Lydia rolled her eyes.
“What else?”
“Well, he’s the second shift foreman, but he also…”
“Not about that! Who cares?”
Lydia laughed. “I got it! This’ll describe him to a tee.” She paused for effect. “He’s the kind of guy whose idea of good sex is with the woman bent over a bed, preferably with her head in a pillow.”
“Goddamn!” Sharon said. “Bring him on.” This set them off all over again, paving the way for even more silliness. It was well past one and many drinks later before they’d finally run down and decided to call it a night.
When five o’clock rolled around, not surprisingly, Lydia woke to a throbbing headache and an upset stomach. “Oh great…” She stumbled about and managed to take a hot shower, took some aspirin, and after leaving a note for Sharon, arrived at the plant a little after six-thirty.
She forced a smile when the receptionist greeted her, then trudged down the hall to the stairs and agonizingly started the climb. It seemed endless. When she didn’t think she could take one more step, she glanced up to see how much further it was to the top, and there stood Tony Armato, staring down at her.
For a moment, it was like a standoff, each one looking at the other. Then he started past her. “I left you a note,” he said.
Lydia turned slowly, but not slowly enough. It made her lightheaded. As she stood there trying to decide whether to let go of the banister to steady her head or hold on for dear life, Tony shifted his weight and observed.
“What?” she asked, when she realized he was staring at her. “Is there something else?”
He shook his head no, but said something as he turned to leave about being glad he wasn’t a woman. Lydia walked on up, mumbling to herself. “Wonderful. Reed blamed my period. How clever.”
When she got to the conference room, she read the note.
Got an idea on how to advance the rough-in machining. Tried it out last night. I’ll put two from my shift on it today. Tony Armato
Lydia read it again and sat back. “That doesn’t tell me anything. Was that supposed to tell me something? Am I supposed to be enlightened now” She answered herself. “Well, it doesn’t, and I’m not.”
She reached for the phone to page him, but changed her mind. She didn’t think she could handle the screech and howl of the paging system, let alone the sound of her own amplified voice. She lit a cigarette and walked over to the window and stared out instead. Eight minutes before the shift change and already there was a line forming at the time clock.
After seven, she phoned Bill, wanting him to let her into the accounting department. On her way to meet him there, she was surprised to find Jan at her desk. “Jesus!” she said. “What time do you start anyway?”
Jan’s face turned red instantly. “Normally, not this early, but I, uh…didn’t get all of Mr. Reed’s letters typed yesterday, so I thought if I came in early I could get them out of the way before he came in.”
Lydia shook her head, thinking, no lunch and comes in early. What is this Reed, a slave driver? Her tone reflected that. “You don’t have to do this often, do you?”
Jan’s face reddened even more. “Normally no, but there was an extra amount…” She looked as if she was about to cry.
Lydia sighed. “I meant come in this early?”
“Oh! I thought you were implying…”
Lydia shook her head and with another sigh, walked away. “I’ll be in accounting.”
“But no one’s there yet,” Jan called after her in a high voice. “It’s locked. And the coffee’s not started either. It’s not time yet.”
Lydia waved over her shoulder, indicating she’d be there anyway. Bill was waiting for her. “Do you want me to stick around?” he asked.
Lydia scanned the room. “Do you have keys to the filing cabinets?”
He nodded. “I have a master.”
“Good.” Lydia smiled, waving him in like a partner in crime. As he unlocked the cabinet behind Dan Morris’s desk, the pleasant scent of English Leather encircled them.
The top drawer held nothing but blank accounting sheets and office supply magazines, the second, newspapers. The third was filled with chips, candy, crackers, and fishing magazines. The bottom one, empty. This seemed strange, but stranger yet was Dan’s desk, which proved a void as well.
She and Bill exchanged puzzled looks, then he motioned to the cabinets behind the clerks’ desks, and she nodded. These too, aside from payroll records, office supplies, and coffee fixings, were a disappointment.
“Nothing!” Lydia kicked the bottom drawer shut with a bang. “What the hell?”
Bill could only shake his head. It didn’t make any sense to him either.
Lydia glanced at her watch then and since it was close to eight, motioned to the door, and they walked over to leave. “Don’t bother locking up,” she said. “There doesn’t seem to be much point.” As they stared down the hall, Jan bumped into them coming the other way.
“It’s time to, uh, start the coffee.” She pointed past them, as if her direction needed approval. “It’s time.”
Lydia barely acknowledged her stammering. “I want the offices open from here on in. All right?”
“All right.” Jan stood there, looking shocked, as Lydia and Bill walked away, engaged in a hushed conversation.
Lydia stopped at the end of the hall to light a cigarette, realizing only then that her headache was gone. “What time does personnel start?”
Bill glanced conspicuously the other way to answer. “Eight thirty.”
Lydia took another drag, studying him. At first she thought he’d turned to avoid the smoke, but maybe not. “I’m going to need you to let me in there also,” she said.
Bill nodded and walked down the stairs with her. When he opened the door at the bottom, she noticed his hands were shaking. “What do you know about Tony Armato?” she asked, for what reason, God only knew.
“Not much.”
Amazing, she thought, as she walked on. He’d said it defensively, but didn’t ask why. Most people would have under the circumstances. “Bill, are you feeling all right?”
He nodded, but wiped the sweat forming above his lip, and she touched his arm gently. “Bill, what is it?”
He shook his head, insisting it was nothing. Although Lydia didn’t believe that for a second, she chose not to pressure him. “Why don’t you just unlock the cabinets and go out and get some fresh air. You have that pukey look again.”
Bill nodded gratefully. He was feeling sick. After he left she started going through the active personnel files. When she came to one that intrigued her, she laid it aside, and by the time she was done, she had a whole stack of them.
She looked at her watch, then quickly pulled three folders from the shop file, and headed upstairs. She wanted to tell Jan she’d be down in the conference room, but mainly she wanted to know if Dan Morris had come in yet.
When Jan sai
d he hadn’t, she glanced at her watch again. “Well, let me know when he does. Oh, and call someone down in personnel in about ten minutes and account for these files.”
Jan looked aghast. “But what should I tell them?”
“What do you mean? How about just telling them that I have them?”
Jan swallowed. She thought Lydia was implying that she wanted her to make up something. “I’m sorry, I…uh, I misunderstood.”
Lydia rolled her eyes. “What planet are you from, Jan?”
Jan’s face reddened, a response that had Lydia shaking her head. “That was a joke, Jan. You know, like meant to be funny.”
Only Jan wasn’t laughing. She was turning a deeper shade of red, and Lydia started to walk away.
“We make machine parts here, Miss Merchant,” Jan called after her in a shrill, defensive voice. “Tractor parts, car parts, parts of all kinds. I asked Mr. Reed and he told me. And you were right, I should have known.”
Lydia just nodded, walking on, and though the aroma of coffee coming from accounting was tempting, she’d left her cup in the conference room and had to pass. She had promised to call Sharon, so as soon as she got downstairs and before she forgot, she phoned her.
Sharon answered with, “I’m up!”
Lydia laughed. “How did you know it was me?” And then thought, God I shouldn’t have said that.
“I sensed it!”
Lydia knew she’d say that. “Well, you wanted me to make sure you got up early, so consider it done.”
“You wanna do something tonight?”
Lydia thought for a moment. “No, you keep me up too late, and you make me drink too much.”
Sharon laughed. “You’ve really become quite cranky now that you’re a working stiff, you know.”
“Yeah, well, that’s how it goes. So let’s wait and do something this weekend. Call me.”
“Okay, but listen, I have to tell you about the dream I had.”
Lydia laughed. She never let up. “You’ll have to tell me about it later. I’m not at my best to interpret it right now. I’ve got other things on my mind.”
“But it was so good. It was about your foreman. You know, the one with the Doberman eyes.”
“Not now,” Lydia said. “I don’t have time. Besides, it was probably obscene. How’s that for a quick read?” She hung up, laughing.
The first file she checked carefully was Bill’s: thirty-eight, brown hair, hazel eyes, five-foot-seven, one hundred and sixty pounds, married, two children. Looking over his previous employment, she had to wonder what he was doing here, though. The last company he’d worked for was three times their size. When she came to his attendance card, it offered a possibility as to why. He’d already missed eight, no, nine days. She counted them out loud, then with a “Hmph,” went on to the next file. Dan Morris’s.
She discovered he was sixty-four, divorced, and weighed two hundred and twenty pounds. But what intrigued her most was his previous position with Amcox, a company that had been their strongest competitor until it shut down three years ago. She’d have to ask him about this, in addition to the questions she already had.
Reed’s file came up after a few more. According to it, he was six-foot-two, one hundred and eighty-three pounds, brown hair, (she frowned, she’d call it blonde), blue eyes, twenty-nine years old, and single. Pantamanian was listed as his last employer, along with some summer jobs. His file was filled with copies of his diplomas, grade transcripts, awards, personal references, and she had to laugh, yes, there was even a certificate from Dale Carnegie to back up his positive image.
Jan’s was next. Twenty-six, divorced, no children, five-foot-seven, brown hair, green eyes, a hundred and ten pounds. She ran her eyes down the page, picking up random facts, thinking there should be a space somewhere for personality. “Silly,” for instance, would apply in Jan’s case. Then she turned the application over and her jaw literally dropped.
“Holy shit! Jan? A nun?” Only out of the order a few years, her last employment had been with an attorney named Robert Cline, the same last name as hers.
“Wow!” It wasn’t that she had anything against nuns, she didn’t. It was just that she’d never picked up on it, not even a hint. That was unsettling.
Jack Cox’s was next. He was the man she’d talked to at the elevator, and it proved to be even more disturbing. She couldn’t care less about his hair color, how tall he was, or if he managed to have a wife and kids to complain to. What did concern her was his other full-time job, the one he apparently worked days. It was with an electronics firm, which hardly seemed a conflict of interests, but it did raise some concerns. When she laid that folder aside, bringing her to the last one, the room suddenly became stifling hot.
She hesitated before walking over to check the thermostat. Seeing that it was seven-two, hardly uncomfortable, she drew a breath of resigned awareness and walked back with a feeling of dread.
Why she’d even put this one off until last, something she only now realized, thanks to the heat, was unnerving enough. Now her hands were starting to tremble, another sure sign. She hated these feelings. She just hated them, but typical of her, she faced them head on. Lighting a cigarette, she reached for that last folder. It was Tony Armato’s.
Height, six-feet, weight, two hundred, hair brown, eyes brown, thirty years old, single. One, two, three, that’s how fast she read it. Drawing a breath, she sighed. The feeling was starting to pass and with that came relief. Just like that.
Then she turned his application over and had to swallow. It was blank. There was no employment history, no references, no date, no signature. She turned it back to look at the education section, and it too was blank…as blank as the expression on her face. She didn’t get it. This was the man who was overseeing the shop’s entire operation. A man who Reed insisted they needed.
“Why?” The question hung in the air.
Chapter Five
Lydia have been gifted with insight, what most people refer to as intuition, and could almost handle being able to read minds, interpret dreams, and at times guess what was around the corner. It was the sense of dread she could without.
She closed Tony’s file, pushing it away, and was lighting another cigarette when Reed tapped on the door.
“Good morning!”
Lydia took a drag and sat back. “Just the person I want to see.”
Reed smiled, and as he sat down across from her, noticed she looked paler than yesterday. “Aren’t you feeling well?”
Lydia waved her hand nonchalantly. “No, not really. But I guess that’s just par for being an afflicted woman.”
Reed turned unbelievably red. “Well, it worked at the time. Besides, the janitor had told most everyone anyway.”
Lydia shook her head at the ridiculousness of that, and Reed found himself staring at her. “Seriously, don’t you feel well?”
“I drink too much,” she said flatly. “And if that gets around, you’re not gonna be able to blame it on Carlson.”
Reed smiled, though he didn’t doubt the drinking one bit when he looked at her eyes. But why, he wondered? Here was a woman with everything.
“I’ve been going over the personnel files and I have a few questions.”
“Oh?” Reed reached for one, which happened to be his. “Like what?”
Lydia took it back. “This one didn’t have any surprises in it.”
Reed smiled. “I’m not sure how to take that.”
Lydia chuckled and handed him Jan’s. “Did you know she was a nun?”
When Reed nodded, she took that one right back too. “Okay, now about him?” She gave him Jack Cox’s.
Reed opened it somewhat reluctantly. “He was here when I came on, so I don’t know much about him.”
“Do you know what he does here?”
Reed grew defensive immediately. “What all the other foremen do.”
“But he has access to the offices?”
“No, just the shop.”
; Lydia nodded slightly, studying him. He was hiding something; she could sense it. “Is there a problem with him?”
“No, not really.”
“No and not really are two different things.”
Reed laid the folder down. “One of the other foremen had a question about him, that’s all.”
“And?”
“And nothing. The third shift runs smoothly.”
Lydia reached for her cigarette. “Well, even so, I think I’ll have him hang around until I get here tomorrow. I’d like you to be here also.”
“Why?”
That irritated her. “Why do I want you here?”
“No. Why do you want to talk to him?”
“Well, for one, his moonlighting. But more importantly, I’d like to know what he does around here.”
Now Reed was irritated, and seeing that, Lydia added to it. “Which is why I think it’d be a good idea for you to be here also, since you’re obviously not real sure either.”
Reed’s expression stiffened even more.
“And while we’re on this, I’d like you to work me up a summary of responsibilities, telling me who does what and why.”
Reed raised a cold eyebrow. “In my spare time?”
“No, first thing. I need it now. Get Jan to help.”
“Jan?”
“Yeah, I know she types ninety words a minute, but I don’t need her for that, and you won’t either unless we dig out of this hole, so why don’t you get her started on it.”
Reed nodded, but didn’t exactly look agreeable. Lydia reached for another cigarette, allowing him time if he wanted to say something. He remained silent, so she went on.
“What’s the point of having a receptionist at night?”
Reed raised his hands. “Again, feeble as it sounds, that was done ahead of my time.”
“Does she run the switchboard?”
Reed shook his head. “No.”
“What then?”
“I don’t know.”
Lydia leaned forward, drilling him with her eyes. “Tell me, Reed. When you came aboard, what did you have in mind?”
He didn’t hesitate. “If you’re asking me what my goal was, it was to assist your father with the daily operation of the company in hopes of turning it around and getting it back into a profit situation.”
Call Me Lydia Page 6