by Ali Parker
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” he said. “Where are you going in such a huff?”
“I don’t feel like doing this right now,” I said with irritation.
“Don’t give me that attitude, missy,” he said. “Sit your little butt down.”
“Fine,” I said, holding my purse to my chest and sitting down. “Elon Truitt is a complete asshole. I just can’t take him. I can’t fathom why he’s even interested in butting in on what we do in this department. It’s like he doesn’t get that his instincts are old, and he’s rusty as hell. I can’t take the kind of bullshit he’s throwing out to me. I am so damn frustrated.”
“Good,” Dalton said. “Get the crap out of your system so we can have a real discussion. Before you tell me what happened, I just want to tell you something. You’re offended by the fact that someone’s walking in on your turf and pushing you around, I get that. What I don’t get is why the one woman I have known to have unending patience can’t keep her shit together when it comes to her job.”
“Having unending patience with my son is one thing fueled by my emotional attachment to him,” I said. “Unending patience with an idiot is something I have never been good at, and Elon Truitt is a complete idiot.”
“Take a deep breath, think about your words, and then tell me what happened,” Dalton said, leaning back in his chair.
“I just …”
“No,” he said. “Deep breath first.”
I took in a deep breath and let it out, closing my eyes and steadying my heartbeat.
“See, that’s better,” Dalton said. “Now tell me what happened.”
“First, he called me into the office to ask me about the project, a project he had not even given me a file for,” I said. “Then, he gave me an hour to go over the project. When I was doing so, neglecting all of my other responsibilities, I realized he okayed a timeframe on this thing that is completely absurd. When I asked him about it, he just shrugged, not even understanding the difference between our firm and these other cookie-cutter firms out there. After that, he asked me for my ideas and then shot them down like fire. Not only did he do that, but he offended me by basically saying Cartier doesn’t care what the regular person like you or I think, they only care what the rich think. He went on to ignore the watch I was wearing, from you of course, and said that I was still the minority. He said the ad needed to focus on the rich and not the average Joe. He wouldn’t even hear my idea out.”
“No, he didn’t,” Dalton said, shaking his head. “He is the minority of readers.”
“I know,” I said. “I tried to explain that to him, but the last thing he wanted to do was listen to the leader of the peasants.”
“Well, either way, you cannot just walk out like this,” he said. “You need this job, and you know it. We both need this job with bills piling up and companies outsourcing their work, and you cannot afford to just walk out without something else lined up first.”
“I know,” I sighed. “I’m not quitting, I’m just leaving for the day. If I don’t get out of this building and away from Elon, I can promise you I will quit. I will walk right out on his ass, and then I’m the one who will be hurting.”
“Understandable,” Dalton said. “You let the office know you’d be back?”
“Yes,” I said. “Everyone knows I’m just taking the afternoon off.”
“I love you, honey,” he said. “You know that. And I don’t mean to be the one to tell you what you already know, but sometimes, you need someone to slow you down before you self-destruct.”
“I know,” I said with a smile. “And I love you for it. You keep my feet on the ground, and you do it for Mikey and for me. I love my son so much, you know that, but sometimes, I don’t think about the repercussions of my emotions. It’s hard being a single mom sometimes. I won’t sugar coat that at all.”
“Of course, it is,” Dalton said. “But you look damn good doing it.”
“Thank you.” I laughed.
“Do you feel any better?”
“I do,” I said. “Thank you.”
“So, what are you going to do with your afternoon off?”
“I think I’m going to go see my mom,” I said. “Talk to her, see if there are any changes, the normal.”
“That sounds good,” he said. “A little quiet time with Momma always makes you feel better. Tell her I said hello and make sure that throw is still with her. If she looks like she needs a little hair help, send me a text, and I’ll swing in over the next couple of days.”
“You are an angel,” I said, standing up and leaning across the desk to kiss his cheek.
“No, girl, I definitely have horns, but even the devil cares about someone.” He winked.
“Very true,” I said. “Have a good day, and I’ll talk to you tonight.”
I walked out of the office, thankful I had someone like Dalton in my life. He always did everything he could to make me feel better, even when I thought I didn’t want to. I walked out of the building and out to the parking garage, relieved I had driven that day instead of taking the train. When I got to the hospital, I stopped off at the gift shop and got her some fresh flowers to brighten up her room. She might not see them, but I knew she could sense it. I took the elevator up to ICU and walked to the reception desk.
“Back to see your momma?”
“Yes, ma’am,” I smiled. “How is she today?”
“Beautiful as ever,” the nurse said.
“Good,” I said, walking to the back.
My mother was holding on by life support, and she had been for quite a while. I walked into the room and over to the bed, leaning in and kissing her cheek. I rubbed her hair back and straightened the beautiful throw Dalton had gotten her.
“Hi, Mom,” I said loudly. “I brought you some flowers. They’re beautiful roses, just like you love.”
I walked around the room straightening up and then pulled a chair up to the side of the bed. I leaned back and let out a deep breath, crossing my legs. Everything was better when I was able to be with my mother. Just then, her doctor walked in.
“Amanda,” he said, smiling. “The nurses said you were here.”
“Dr. Holt.” I stood up and shook his hand. “How is everything?”
“That’s what I came to talk to you about,” he said. “Let me just do a little exam on her, and then we can talk.”
I watched as he listened to her heart, checked her reflexes, lifted her eyelids, and rubbed her feet. He wrote some notes down in the binder and closed it, hanging it on the end of the bed. I knew what he was going to say. I could see it on his face.
“Amanda, I know you’re looking for something, anything, to tell you that your mother is still in there, but her condition is not improving, and she isn’t showing signs of cognitive brain activity,” he said. “You might want to start thinking about end of life services.”
“No,” I said, shaking my head. “Doctor, we have gone over this before. I’m not going to give up on my mother. She never gave up on me, not anytime in my life, and I am not going to give up on her now.”
“I just want you to be aware of the reality of the situation,” he said, rubbing my arm. “There is a very good chance, a probable chance, that she will never regain any sort of consciousness.”
“I understand that, doctor,” I said. “Look, I may be hopeful, but I know the statistics. Miracles happen every single day. I’ve seen it with my own eyes, and if there’s anyone who deserves it, it’s my mother. She has been my rock and stand my entire life, and I am not going to let her die without giving her the entire chance that she deserves.”
“You’re emotional about this, and you should be. She’s your mother,” he said. “But I would like you to find someone you can talk to about this, someone you trust and someone who will help you take the next step when it’s that time.”
“I will, doctor,” I said. “Thank you.”
He smiled and turned, walking from the room. I closed my mother’s door and sighed, walk
ing back over and sitting down in the chair. I stared over at the ventilator, watching it go up and down, over and over again. The sound of her heart monitor blared through my head. Everything was so difficult, but there in the room with my mother, I felt at peace. I reached out and took her hand in mine, petting it softly.
“Oh, Mom,” I sighed. “I really could use your advice right about now. There is so much going on and so many questions that I need help finding the answers to. You are the only one who has ever been there and known what I needed to do. I can’t even find that for myself.”
A tear fell gently down my face as I stared at my mom with all the tubes and sounds around her. I released her hand and pulled a book out of my bag, leaning back and opening up to the marked page. I started to read, hoping my steady voice would help bring her back to me. She had always loved books, and this was one of her favorites. It was a Hemingway novel, one that I had read at least ten times as an adult. I guessed that I got her taste in literature. As the time ticked by me, I turned my thoughts to her, trying to remember what I had done when she wasn’t there. The problem was, I couldn’t think of a time she wasn’t.
Chapter 9
Elon
Getting out of bed that morning was almost a chore. I knew I was going to have to face the team again, a team I wanted to be mine but couldn’t get a grasp on. This project was vital to my future and to many of them, but telling them that would only incite a panic. I had to figure out a way to get them on board with my ideas, my thoughts, and me as their leader. I rolled out of bed and jumped in the shower, taking my time and letting the hot water soothe my stiff shoulders. I laid out one of my nicer suits, knowing when I looked good, I felt good, and that would only help me come off in a better light. I had to admit, it had been so long since I was involved in everything that I felt almost lost.
After I was dressed and ready, I filled my coffee mug and grabbed my briefcase. I headed to the office, jumping in the car waiting in front for me. As we drove along my phone rang.
“This is your secretary,” she said. “I have Mr. Smith from Smith Technologies on the line. He’s interested in talking to you about your services.”
“Excellent. Put him through,” I said, waiting for the click in the line. “Mr. Smith, it’s good to hear from you.”
“Thank you for taking my call so quickly,” he replied. “I heard some really great things about your firm, and I was hoping you and I could sit down and talk about it over breakfast if you’re free.”
“This morning?” I asked.
“If you have the time, that would be great,” he replied.
“I think I can clear some time in my schedule,” I said. “Where would you like to meet?”
“How about Patisserie on Seventh?” he asked. “I can be there as quickly as ten minutes.”
“Perfect,” I replied. “I’ll have my driver head over there now.”
“Excellent, I’ll see you there,” he said, hanging up.
“George, could you go to Patisserie on Seventh instead of the office?” I said to the driver.
“Of course, sir,” he said, putting on his blinker to change lanes.
I pulled up Smith Technologies on my phone and scanned the website. They seemed to cater to big government corporate deals instead of to the general public. They sold large manufacturing tools in the newest technology. It wasn’t what we did at my company, but I was never one to turn down a possible lead. For all I knew, they were expanding with a product for the people, and they needed our marketing expertise. It was worth a shot, especially since we were in desperate need of larger corporate contracts. We pulled up in front of the restaurant, and I got out, carrying my briefcase with me. Smith met me at the door.
“Mr. Truitt,” he said. “Thank you for meeting me on such short notice.”
“I had to eat breakfast anyway, and why not do it with good company?” I smiled.
Mr. Smith was a middle-aged man, round around the belly, with a receding hairline. He looked the part of a techie, only he had the manners of a CEO. I could tell he had been in the business a long time. We took a seat at the table and ordered some coffee.
“Okay,” I said. “Why don’t you start with telling me about your company?”
“I’m the owner of Smith Technologies,” he said. “I started the company about thirteen years ago, during the first big technological boom of the new century. We specialize in large manufacturing tools that helps cut back costs, gives a higher safety rating, and makes manufacturing a more streamlined process.”
“I see,” I said. “And what are you looking to market?”
“We have a new line coming out, some really big products that are on the cutting line of technology,” he explained.
“And would these be sold publicly or just to large corporations?”
“I suppose anyone could buy them, but we mostly work with big manufacturing companies, and we have several government contracts that are the core of our business,” he said.
“Right,” I replied. “Well, let me tell you about Truitt Marketing. I started the company from the ground up. We have a grassroots approach to marketing. There are no templates, so we work from the brains of our staff. Every project is unique and different. However, what we usually work with are high-end consumer products such as cars, jewelry, perfumes, couture clothing, and whatever the rich want to buy. Luxury items are our specialty. I’m not sure we would be a good fit for what you’re looking to do.”
“Okay,” he smiled. “I wasn’t sure. I knew that your list of clients was very diverse, so I figured I would give it a shot anyway.”
“That being said, I do have several contacts at firms I would trust with my marketing, that I think could do a killer job for your company,” I said. “If you can send me your email address, I’ll have my secretary send over several of them with contact information. When you call them, you can let them know Elon Truitt referred you. They’ll take very good care of your company and your needs.”
“That would be excellent,” he said. “I’m sorry I wasted your time this morning. I’m sure you are a very busy man.”
“It’s no problem at all. Here’s my card,” I said handing it to him. “If, during the process, you’re confused and can’t get the answer you are looking for, please don’t hesitate to contact me. I can explain whatever you need, and I can reach out to the company you’re working with if necessary.”
“Thank you, sir,” he said looking at the card. “And when I speak to some of my friends that own the kind of companies you work with, I will definitely pass on your information to them. It’s refreshing to speak to someone with so much candor.”
“It was my pleasure,” I said, standing up. “I have to get to the meetings at my office, but please stay and enjoy breakfast. I have alerted them it’s on Truitt.”
“Thank you.” He smiled.
I left the restaurant and headed straight over to the office, knowing everyone was waiting for me so we could get started on this project. As I exited the elevator, everyone got quiet and stared up at me. I waved and walked into my office, stopping and turning back to the doorway.
“Good morning, everyone. Pass the word, meeting in the conference room in ten minutes.” I smiled.
No one smiled back, and they all just turned to each other and shook their heads before going back to work. I could feel the tension in the room, so I went into my office and shut the door. I unpacked my notes, made a few new ones, and prepared myself to face these people all over again. They were hard to crack, and I had a feeling I had my work cut out for me. If I wanted to make this project a success, though, I needed to figure out how to get to these people. I put my paper in a stack and grabbed a pen before heading out and toward the conference room. Everyone was slowly making their way inside, and I felt a hand on my arm. I turned around to see Amanda, her face expressionless.
“Elon,” she said. “May I have a word with you in my office?”
“Absolutely.” I smiled, followin
g her inside and shutting the door. “I feel like I’m in trouble.”
“You’re the boss. You can’t really be in trouble,” she said.
If she only knew.
“What can I help you with, then?” I smiled.
“I want to explain something to you,” she said. “I know as CEO, you have been used to coming and going on your schedule. I was told you met with a possible client this morning, which of course is a good thing. However, my team works on a very tight schedule, something they have grown to understand is part of the business. Therefore, schedules are very important to them. When one thing is off, it throws their whole productivity off. If you’re going to be involved in all of this, if you’re going to be the leader, then you need to be more professional in letting my team know when they should expect you. If you schedule a meeting, we need you to be there at that time to start it.”
“I understand,” I said, not used to be chastised by the staff. “I will keep my meetings from now on.”
“Thank you, sir,” she said, a lot calmer than the last time I had seen her but still unfriendly. “They’re waiting for you in the conference room.”
“Right,” I said, turning and walking out of the room.
Amanda followed me into the conference room and took a seat at the other end of the table. She folded her hands in her lap and sat back, staring up at me. I waited for everyone to quiet, the mood in the room so tense, I could barely breathe.
“Everyone,” Amanda said. “Quiet down. We don’t need to waste any more time. Talk to each other when the meeting is over.”
“Thank you.” I nodded.
The team definitely looked to Amanda for leadership and not to me, not that I blamed them. That needed to change, though, or at least expand to include me in the equation. I just wasn’t sure quite how to make that happen. I had already proven that I hadn’t paid a bit of attention to any of them, that I had no loyalty to them, so why would they have loyalty to me? I started the meeting by discussing the terms of the contract, ignoring the whispers when I put the due dates up on the board. When I was done with that part of it, I turned around, finding everyone staring at me with annoyance.