by Ali Parker
“Oh,” he said. “That’s like a full-on day trip for you.”
“Hey, I have to watch my money and shop the sales.” I chuckled.
“Well, since that will take you about eleven years to finish, why don’t I come over there and keep you company?” he said. “I can push the cart for you.”
“As long as you don’t take off down the aisle like last time and almost kill three old ladies in the meat department,” I said.
“Hey, they were not respecting the rules of the road.” He chuckled. “Which one are you at?”
“McDougal’s,” I said. “The one by my house.”
“All right, on my way. Be there in twenty,” he said.
I hung up the phone and laughed to myself, heading through the produce section. I stood there staring down at the apples, thinking about how different things were going to be starting on Monday. I had really only ever known Truitt Marketing, and Diamond was so different. I could already tell. It was manufactured, not grassroots, but I didn’t have the luxury of being picky about the kind of marketing I did. They paid really well, and that was what was keeping me on track with going there to work. I had to keep my mind straight and my eye on the prize. I continued through the store, stopping on the next aisle after stocking up on fruits and veggies. I was staring at the salad dressings, trying to decide whether to make my own or get the good stuff.
“I like French,” Dalton said from behind me.
“You’ve never had French dressing.” I laughed. “You just like the fact that it’s called French. It makes you feel fancy.”
“There is nothing fancy about orange liquid on my salad,” he protested. “But you’re right. I’ve never tried it.”
“I think I’m going to make my Italian with this fancy little bottle,” I said, putting it in the cart.
“My grandmother used to do that,” he said. “She would let me shake it up, which, of course, I turned into a full chorus line in the middle of our family Christmas get-together.”
“Of course,” I replied with a smirk.
“As an adult, they won’t let me make the dressing,” he said, frowning. “Not since the booty shaking, droppin’ it like it was hot incident.”
“I don’t even need to hear that story,” I said, shaking my head and moving down the aisle.
“Do you really need details? I think that says it all.” He laughed.
“Yep, don’t need the details. I’m already picturing it in my head,” I said.
“So, how is my best friend?”
“Okay,” I sighed. “Nervous about Monday, perplexed as usual about Elon, unhappy with everything in my life. You know, the normal.”
“Girl, you need to let it all go and breathe,” he said. “In the meantime, Elon has been walking around the office like a damn lost child in an amusement park.”
“What do you mean?”
“He’s miserable, unhappy, grumpy, and pretty much stays in his office before letting us go early for the day. We’re getting work done but not much. He’s sent the team home early, like, every day since you left. And he doesn’t stay to work on the project. He dips out before the rest of us can. I’ve been pretty much running everything, but I can only do so much without a technical artist.”
“You still don’t have a technical guy?”
“No, and not one single person has come through as an interviewee,” he said. “We’re working around it. Not sure what we’re going to do when it’s time to put everything together. No one is really talking about it, though. I think they’re still hoping for a hail Mary at the last second like the Cartier account.”
“I don’t know if that’s going to happen,” I said. “Has anyone asked what happened with me?”
“No. Elon still hasn’t told them,” he said. “He said you had the flu and would be back when you felt better. He’s stalling because of the board.”
“Ugh,” I said, shaking my head. “I forgot about the board, but that’s not my responsibility.”
“He talks to me some, but most of it is sad and pity-filled.” He shrugged. “I try to lift his spirits, but most of the time, I just go to work and try to make up for the fact that we’re all hanging out there completely leaderless.”
“What is wrong with him? It sounds like he’s given up completely,” I said. “He worked so hard to keep his place in the company to just throw it away?”
“He’s a heartbroken puppy dog,” Dalton said, glancing over at me.
“Well, maybe he should have thought about that from the beginning,” I said, trying to make myself feel better.
“There is no doubt that he made mistakes,” Dalton said, picking up a box of spaghetti and looking at the label. “But he misses you, I can tell. He glances over at your office every time he comes out of his, and that’s almost always followed by a sigh. When I went into his office the other day, he still had your note sitting on his desk, and it looked worn out like he’d read it a hundred times.”
“That’s his own fault,” I said, exasperated. “He betrayed me. He meddled in something that wasn’t his place to poke around in. I told him from the beginning that it wasn’t his burden and that I would figure it out. Had he just left it at that, none of this would have happened. At the same time, though, it was what pushed me to look for better opportunities, so maybe it was a blessing in disguise, for me at least.”
“You’re so full of shit,” Dalton said with his hands on his hips. “You struggled with this choice and are still struggling. I can tell by the look on your face and the fact that you’ve been staring at spaghetti sauce for about twenty minutes now. You know for damn sure that you don’t buy spaghetti sauce. You make your own.”
“Well, this time, I’m saving myself time,” I said, grabbing a jar and putting it into the cart, knowing he was right.
“I just think if you took a second and looked at it from Elon’s viewpoint, you would see he was trying to help, not out of pity or charity but because he loves you,” Dalton said, stopping the cart. “It’s true, Amanda. The man is in love with you. He’s got it bad, and now, he’s lost like hell.”
For a second, the idea that Elon loved me made my heart skip a beat. I stood there staring at Dalton, feeling like I was breaking all over again. I gripped the cart handle and pulled my face into a tight squeeze, squinting at Dalton. I couldn’t let this get to me, and I couldn’t believe he was taking Elon’s side in all of this.
“Great,” I said, pushing the cart into Dalton. “So not only does Elon make me feel terrible about my choice, but now my best friend is taking sides with the enemy.
“This is part of your problem.” He chuckled, moving out of the way. “Elon is not the enemy. He’s a guy you care about who did something that upset you. You’re too stubborn to see that it really isn’t that serious. You’re too stubborn and scared to be taken care of by anyone so you’ve changed your entire life to make sure you didn’t have to give in. You may think you did this just for the money, but I know you better than that.”
I huffed and moved on through the aisles. Dalton was calling my shit, and I didn’t like it. It was true. He wasn’t taking sides. He was just telling me I was wrong. The worst part about the whole thing was, I actually thought he may be right. Elon did love me. I could tell that, and maybe part of me running from him was fear of losing my independence, but what was done was done. I had decided to move on, for whatever reason, and I had to stop going backward and looking at what I did with a fine-tooth comb.
I turned the corner and perused the cereal aisle, deciding to get something special for Mikey. Mikey was my everything, and no matter the reason for what I did, he would benefit from it, and that was what was most important. No one ever said a single mom’s life was easy, and I knew that firsthand. I was starting my new job on Monday, a fresh break, a new way of life, and that needed to be my focus. All of this talking and thinking about Truitt Marketing and Elon Truitt had to stop. Without focus, I would surely fail, and there was no way I could mess up
this opportunity, not for Elon or anyone else. This was for me, for my son, and for my mom, and I would have to keep remembering that.
Chapter 51
Elon
My feet were propped up on the desk, and I was leaning back in the chair, resting my eyes for a few minutes. My head was pounding, and I couldn’t get the deal with Marcus or Amanda off my mind. I had let everyone go early again, not wanting to deal with everything at that moment. I knew I had the big project due, but it couldn’t have been further from my thoughts at that point. I just wanted everything to go back to the way it was before with me and Amanda working and playing by each other’s side. Of course, things had really changed, and it didn’t look like that was going to be something viable anymore.
I got up and walked out to Amanda’s office, opening the door and looking down at her desk. A picture of her and her son sat on her desk, and I realized I had never noticed it before. I picked it up and smiled, looking at how the two of them clung so tightly together. Across the office, I heard the elevator ding, and I put the picture down and closed the office door, waiting for the elevator to open. When it did, I smiled, seeing Marcus standing there with his hands in his pockets. He looked up at me and nodded his head, looking down at the empty pit.
“Hey, man,” I said, walking up and shaking his hand. “Good to see you.”
“Where is everyone?”
“I sent them all home for the day,” I said. “I was lost and couldn’t deal.”
“I see,” he said, following me into my office and sitting down. “So, I thought a lot about your proposal last night.”
“Good,” I said.
“If I were to become a partial owner of the company, what would happen?”
“Well, we would call the board together, present the idea, take a vote,” I explained. “If everything went as planned, I would transfer your shares to you, get you an office, probably the one next to mine because its empty, and get to work.”
“All right, and how would we decide how to divide up the responsibilities?” he asked. “There has to be some kind of structure to it so we aren’t stepping on each other’s toes.”
“Right,” I said. “Well, our first priority would be the project we have going on. It’s a huge account, the biggest we’ve ever had. The team has been working on it, but I’ve been absent, I won’t lie. The whole thing is due next Friday morning to the owner of the company, and he will not deal with late work.”
“All right.” He pulled out a notepad and wrote stuff down. “Honestly, if you already have the idea for the project nailed down, then getting it done by next Friday won’t be a problem. I did that technical work in a couple of hours, so with your team behind me, it would be simple. But I’m not a presenter so that would be on you because that’s not my forte, and I know it has always been yours.”
“That’s not a problem,” I said. “I’m getting used to the guy anyway, so we wouldn’t want to switch it up like that. After that project, we would sit down and think about what we’re best at and go from there. I don’t think it would be a difficult transition. We know each other so well, and we already know from when the company started that we make one hell of a team.”
“True,” Marcus said, nodding his head. “Honestly, I think you should stick with pulling in the clients. You’re really good at that part, and I’m in no way good at talking to people. I’m too technical, and people tend to not relate to me at all. You can make a friend out of just about anyone, and people trust you without question.”
“I agree,” I said.
“Then I could lead all of the ad projects and just bring you in whenever you want or whenever we need you,” he said. “Of course, as the primary shareholder and CEO, you’ll need to do the presentations and okay the final projects. So, you’ll have to stay in the loop.”
“No doubt,” I said. “That all sounds really good. I enjoy working on the projects but not being responsible for them one hundred percent. I do enjoy schmoozing the clients, and I am good at it.”
“All right,” he said, taking in a deep breath and chuckling. “Let’s do this then. I’m in.”
“Seriously?” I said with excitement. “That is so awesome, bro. I’m so excited. So, let’s work out the technical really fast, the stuff the board will want to know.”
“All right,” he said. “Like what?”
“What kind of salary do you want?”
“Oh, man, I have no idea,” he said, writing something and passing me the paper. “That’s what I make as lower management. Obviously more than that, but so you have a baseline.”
“How about we triple that to start for the first four months, and then we’ll tell the board in that time, we’ll build a structure that works like mine,” I said. “I take a flat rate plus bonuses for meeting certain numbers. Plus, I take dividends from my investments.”
“Perfect,” he said. “I can get out of that tiny ass apartment.”
“For sure.” I laughed. “And we will do a bonus for signing, so that means money in your pocket right away.”
“Sounds good to me.” He smiled.
“All right then. I’m going to call an emergency meeting of the board,” I said, picking up the phone and dialing one of the board member’s numbers. “In the meantime, I have a suit hanging in the closet. Go put it on. You want to look polished and accomplished.”
“I didn’t even think about that.” He laughed, getting up and grabbing the suit.
I called an emergency session with the board, which I knew would be met with irritation because it was Friday. Luckily, it was early enough in the day that they were all still available. When Marcus came out of the bathroom, we headed to the conference room where the board was already assembling. Marcus sat to the side, and I took my seat at the head, waiting for the last of the members to get comfortable. Clayton came through the door with a grumpy look on his face.
“This better be important, Truitt,” he said. “I was on my way out for a two o’clock tee time.”
“Yeah,” Evelyn said. “We try not to have Friday meetings. You know that.”
“This is important, I promise,” I said. “If everyone could have a seat, we can get through this quickly and get you back on your way to the weekend. Everyone here knows the company has been in a stagnant hold for some time now. These new projects are a good start, but something needs to shift to really make some headway forward. I think I have come up with the answer to that problem.”
“Are you resigning?” Clayton asked off the cuff. “That is worth missing a meeting for.”
“Clayton, please,” Evelyn snapped. “Please, continue, Elon. We’re very interested in hearing your idea.”
“Thank you,” I said, glancing over at Clayton who was grimacing in his seat. “There are certain parts of this company that need strong leadership or nothing will get done. By working hand in hand with everyone, I have seen firsthand what’s missing. It took me back to the days at the beginning where everyone worked like it was their company. So, after speaking to my friend, colleague, and one of the first employees of Truitt Marketing, we came up with an idea that will really shoot this company forward. Some of you might remember Marcus Wise from the early days.”
Marcus stood up and waved at the board. Several members said hello while Clayton yawned loudly and looked down at his watch. I ignored him, continuing with what I had to say. There was no way Clayton saw this coming, and I couldn’t wait to see the look on his face when I revealed the plan. This was pretty much my last chance at saving the company, and I had to make them all see that no matter how much Clayton protested, this was the way the company needed to go. It was imperative to the future of Truitt Marketing that I brought Marcus on board.
“Mr. Wise was one of the first hands in Truitt Marketing,” I said. “He helped me build this empire from the ground up long before the board was ever even a thought. He left the company early on, pursuing his own interests in the technology field but has remained an important asset of
Truitt Marketing. He’s one of the most charismatic and strong leaders I have ever seen in an office environment, and he also happens to be a genius in technical graphics. In fact, he’s one of the biggest reasons we were able to call Cartier a success after our technical graphic artist left for another job, thanks to Clayton and his beaming letter of recommendation.”
Clayton cleared his throat and shifted in his seat, avoiding the shocked glares of some of the other members of the board. I smirked and cleared my throat, picking up the paper we had typed up before the meeting. It was his quick resumé and his proposed terms for the position.
“It sounds like we owe Marcus our thanks.” Evelyn smiled, nodding at Marcus. “But what does this have to do with the future of the company?”
“We need a second leader out there on the floor, someone whose interests are entirely dedicated to the future success of Truitt Marketing,” I said. “Marcus has agreed to come on as a co-owner for the best interests of the company. He would lead the team through all ad projects, with my support while I go out and do what I’m best at, landing the big clients like the one we currently have.”
“And what’s the compensation for that position?” Clayton asked. “You think we’re going to give up our shares or lower their value by offering a stock option?”
“No,” I said, picking up the paper. “The compensation for the position is outlined roughly in the document in front of you. All shares that he will receive will be from me, using a share transfer. His salary is flat-based for four months, giving us time to come up with a bonus structure similar to mine for the future.”
“This is ridiculous.” Clayton laughed.
“I think it’s brilliant,” Evelyn said. “I think this could really turn things around, and if you’re willing to give up shares to bring him on board, I don’t see how it could be a bad thing. Normally, these things would take a good amount of time, but I know we’re on a tight schedule right now, so let’s put it to a vote. All in favor? And all opposed?”
I smiled, watching everyone but Clayton’s hand go up in favor of bringing Marcus on board as co-owner. He growled, shoving his hand down in his lap and shaking his head back and forth. I had thwarted him again, and I knew it wouldn’t be long until he gave up on taking my company. To top things off, I’d forgotten that Marcus already owned some shares in the company from when he’d worked there before. Between the two of us, we likely had enough combined shares to dominate with a majority shareholder vote and undo any decision by the board to remove me as CEO.