Otter Under Fire

Home > Other > Otter Under Fire > Page 2
Otter Under Fire Page 2

by Dakota Rose Royce


  “That was just a misunderstanding,” Tempest said sipping on her drink, “and they didn’t really shoot at us, it was more of a warning.”

  “Still…”

  “They didn’t get word we were invited. It’s an easy enough mistake to make.”

  “Right...”

  “And you made friends with that biker, the one with all the tattoos and the funny teeth.”

  “Steel teeth, they were made of steel.”

  “Well you seemed like you had a lot to talk about.”

  “Turns out she’s a welder and she’s going to plasma cut and weld the components to the new gates to our back yard.”

  “You found the only metal worker in that whole building. I am impressed.”

  “And her boyfriend is a glass blower and an artist. He designed her tattoos, based on a Mayan frieze found in an ancient temple. That’s how I started talking to her, the artwork was beautiful.”

  “Anyway, it’s not about that bar. I think you need to expand your horizons.”

  “I don’t see why, right now my life doesn’t include clients who have fist fights at tailgate parties.”

  “They weren’t my clients, those were customers. I told you the food was so good we’d sell out.”

  “The food was pretty good.” Otter conceded.

  “And they paid for all the damages.”

  “That’s true.”

  “And they hired my clients to do several big banquets for them. Turns out all three of them were looking for a good catering company.”

  “Just like instant karma.”

  “But you, you spend all your time working.”

  “I do not.”

  “Do too.”

  “I make jewelry and art.”

  “Working,”

  “I go on dates.”

  “With men you know from work.”

  “But still, I go out.”

  “I’m sure you manage to get work in there somewhere.”

  “I went shopping last week.”

  “For new work boots,”

  “And a new dress,”

  “For a charity ball for work,”

  “So what and why are you picking on me? You are just as bad, maybe worse.”

  “But I do exciting things in my career.”

  “Well I think a charity ball where the mayor and the governor are coming is a pretty exciting thing, but you have a point you want to make. So what is it?”

  “You could take up skydiving or hang gliding.”

  “Give it a rest, Tempest; that’s more of your style and you know I’m not that crazy.”

  “Or maybe you should try online dating or try some new experiences. I just think a little exhilaration would make your life more fun.”

  “Are you trying to rope me into trying out one of your new customers?”

  “Possibly, I’m hoping you can go help me check out some of my potential clients later this week.”

  “I can probably do that.”

  “And maybe we can figure out how to bring more excitement into your existence.”

  “Be careful what you wish for,” Otter said, and finished her drink. “Besides I have all the excitement I need having you for a best friend.”

  Early mornings sucked, Otter thought as she got into her car the next day. Her working days had started somewhere between 4 and 5 am for years, but it was still tough to get up and get moving. One day, she promised herself, she was going to start drinking coffee. As it stood, the only caffeine she drank was Tempest’s favorite brand of diet cola, because it was the only soda Tempest allowed in the house. Tempest, however, didn’t have to get up before dawn. She called Annie as she backed out of the driveway. She and Annie had been commuting partners and coworkers for a little over 5 years.

  Annie nimbly leapt into the car, belying her nearly 60 years. She was married, had four grown children, grandchildren and a pack of dogs. Still, with all her life experience, Annie had a certain childlike quality to her. A bit like the years never left their wearing impression on her psyche.

  “Wasn’t yesterday great?” Annie said leaning back in her seat.

  “What was so great about yesterday?” Otter asked as she put the vehicle in reverse.

  “It was our first day under a hundred since May twenty-fourth.”

  “It was ninety-nine,” Otter said, “That hardly counts.”

  “And it’s supposed to be ninety-seven today. I just love fall.”

  Otter snorted. “If you can call it that,”

  “You also missed all the fun yesterday,” she told Otter as she buckled her seatbelt.

  “What fun would that be?”

  “Oh there are all kinds of rumors flying through the shop,” Annie giggled. “Word is that Ron Defray is being moved from the production manager position.”

  “Oh great, now he’ll be more of an asshole than he is now.”

  “It gets better, the boss made a special place for him to get him out of the mainstream of the shop.”

  “That’s usually a sign he’s about to get his walking papers. He’s not totally stupid. I’m sure he’s figured that part out.”

  “Well there are all kinds of speculation on who will replace him.”

  “No doubt, probably one of the shift supervisors, I’d vote for the second shift guy myself.”

  “Rumor has it that it could be you.”

  “No, it won’t be. First of all, I don’t want it.”

  “You know that won’t matter.”

  “Secondly I would like to think that the boss doesn’t hate me that much. You know they only give that position to someone he plans to fire in a couple years. Remember the production manager we had before Defray?”

  “Yeah, Bill, the guy who never lived up to his resume. He kept thinking he could talk his way out of all of his screw ups.”

  “And he lied to people.”

  “He tried to place the blame on everyone else when something went wrong.”

  “You remember when he blew up that furnace?” Otter asked. “He put parts in there full of oil. Number one item on the ‘Things you are Never Supposed to do With a Furnace’. Then he told the boss that Gonzo did it. Gonzo wasn’t ever there that day.”

  “Well they got rid of him.”

  “Do you remember how much Chuck our general manager at the time really hated that guy? After they fired Bill, he had the guys get a forklift and take Bill’s old desk out to the parking lot and set fire to it.” Otter laughed a little. “I always admired Chuck’s forthright approach.”

  “Well you always knew where you stood with him.”

  “I wonder what he’s doing now.”

  “I heard he moved to Montana after he got out of the burn unit.”

  “He wasn’t the brightest bulb on the chandelier.”

  “Or maybe Wyoming...”

  “Could be, I don’t know. Anyway whoever gets that position is looking to be out the door in a couple of years. You can bet on it.”

  “That’s not true,” Annie said confidently. “Jose is still there.”

  “Well Jose is more of a fill in production manager; he does the job for a few months while they are looking for someone. He’s never been official. Besides if they were looking at me for the job, someone would have approached me by now and mentioned it--long before they would start working on shifting Ron Defray.”

  “You could be right.”

  “I am right; I’ll bet you a dollar right now. They’ve already talked to someone. They just haven’t made the announcement yet.”

  Otter hit the ground running. Arizona Techno-Thermal was a 24/7 operation. Affectionately known as AzTech, it was a major player in the aerospace industry of Phoenix and always busy. She started making the rounds to all her departments, checking that schedules were being followed, machines were operating correctly and product was getting shipped.

  “Where you been Mee ha[2]?” Gonzo asked, waggling his thick black eyebrows at her. “We missed you yesterday.”


  Juan Gonzales was a short, compact master of his job. He moved tons of different metals, loaded machines and ran furnaces with amazing efficiency, making it look effortless. She knew she could count on him to keep a tight schedule and get material moving through the process quickly. She couldn’t remember when he had started calling her mee ha, and always had a feeling she secretly amused him. Still he was a professional and he would do nearly anything she asked.

  “I got to see a pour over at the steel mill.” She told him as they walked out to the shop floor. “They have a new recipe that they’re pretty excited about.”

  “Ah yes, I heard. My cousin, he works over there. They think there will be a lot of money in this.”

  “They could be right. They haven’t run all the tests on it yet, but it might be something special if it does everything they want it to.”

  “More amazing things were happening here. I hear you might become a big shot jefe[3].”

  “Nah, not me, I’m already a supervisor over the best department—what more could I possibly want?”

  Gonzo laughed. “You should go for it, Mee ha. You could do it.”

  “No, I haven’t been here long enough. You could do it; you would be very good at it.”

  “No, I like where I’m at right now,” he said seriously. “Too many hours for that position, you’re on call 24/7.”

  “True enough. I’d like to think I have a life outside of work,” Otter said, thinking about what Tempest had said the night before.

  “At work, you tell me what to do, at home my wife tells me what to do,” Gonzo grinned and waggled his brows at her. “I have women running my life.”

  Otter snorted out a laugh. She sincerely doubted anyone could make him do anything he didn’t want to do.

  “You could maybe want to do some work around here,” Ron Defray said from behind them, “Try to earn your paycheck instead of standing around here talking.”

  “Ah Ron, it was only a matter of time.” Otter said as she turned to him. “Nice of you to drop by my department and say hello,”

  “The boss told me to see that you get your machines running first thing this morning, Mackenzie, makes up for lost time yesterday.”

  “I sincerely doubt he said that, Defray, but I’ll check with him when he gets in.”

  “You need to acknowledge that I’m your boss.”

  “You know, by happy coincidence, I don’t. Michael promised that you would never be my boss in any way. It’s the reason I have the strength to come to work in the morning.”

  “You’ll be singing a different tune someday soon, Mackenzie,” he said with a sneer, playing with a bullet casing he always had on a chain around his neck. “And then you’ll see what it’s like to have a real man in charge.” He was the size and height of Gonzo, but flabbier with a bit of a belly where Gonzo was all hard muscle.

  “Yeah, that will be a revelation, but someday isn’t today,” she said.

  “You’ve always had a smart mouth,” he said, “but I’ve just been promoted to ‘Special Assistant to the President’, “He preened a little. “It’s the next step toward being the general manager.”

  “We already have a general manager.”

  “Yeah, but you know what happens to those guys, they don’t last long. I’ll be next.”

  “Congratulations.” Maybe he was that stupid. Or more likely blind.

  “I’ll be able to control more this way.”

  “Don’t you have a time clock to haunt? First shift is about to come in and I know how you like verbally assaulting everyone as they punch in.”

  Defray glanced in the direction of the beckoning time piece. “We’ll continue this conversation later.” He turned on his heel and marched off.

  “Watch out for that one, Mee ha, he’ll slit your throat if he gets the chance.”

  “You see that long blond hair on his shirt?” Otter said absently, isn’t his wife a brunette?”

  Ten to twelve hour workdays seem short when you are too busy to think about it. There were finished parts and raw material she had to schedule through shipping, rosters to go over with Gonzo and his people and customers to appease. After her last big blow up with Defray because once again he had promised a job on a machine that was already planned for something else; she stormed into her office and slammed the door.

  “Asshole, asshole, dickhead,” She ranted, and then she drew up short. Clark was sitting in her desk chair. If she hadn’t been so pissed, it would have been funny. Clark McCartney looked like a cartoon character. He was short and fat and fully one fourth of his body was his head. Because her desk was high enough for her to work while standing up, her chair was the height of a bar stool and his stubby little legs hung over the edge like a child’s. She wondered how he had gotten up there.

  “I hope you have a good reason for being in my office,” she growled at him. “I’m not in the mood to chat.”

  “I have to postpone our meeting this week,” Clark said with as much dignity as he could muster, “I am going out of town.”

  “Oh, OK,” Otter said, surprised, “vacation?”

  “Yes, an unexpected vacation. I am going away for a few days. I met a fellow Bishop at a conference a few months ago and he invited me to come up and visit for some prayer and reflection. Since it is Labor Day weekend, I thought it was a good time to go away.”

  “I’m sure you’ll find that restful,” she said. She always forgot he was a devout Mormon and an official of his church. Given his personality she didn’t just forget, sometimes she found it hard to believe. “Where are you going?”

  “He is in a small town in Michigan. I am sure I will find the visit quite enlightening. I’d appreciate it if you did not let anyone know where I am going. You understand a person in my position cannot be too careful.”

  “You can count on my discretion.” All those disappointed zealous fans and paparazzi would have to find out from someone else, she thought.

  “I knew I could. And I would like to offer a confidential word of advice.”

  “OK.”

  “Do not let Defray get to you. He will not be bothering anyone around here for long.”

  “Did you get that directly from the boss?”

  “Let us say I got it from several sources.” He looked like he wanted to say more, but then changed his mind.

  “OK, I’ll take your word for it.”

  “We can have our meeting on Tuesday morning when I get back.”

  “If you still think it’s important.”

  “It is very important. I know we have never been friends, Otter, but I do enjoy working with your professionalism.” Again that hint of something left unsaid.

  “Thank you.”

  “And you are going to our charity ball in October?”

  “The Halloween ball? Yes, of course. I have my date and my dress all lined up.”

  “Well it is the first weekend of October, hardly a Halloween ball. But good, I am pleased you are going. I am taking my wife of course.”

  “Of course,”

  “Listen, Otter—Mackenzie, I…”

  There was a fierce pounding on her door. She could see Raymundo, the shipping guy in the window. The skull tattoo on his bald head was radiating fury. Someone in the Shipping and Receiving department must have screwed up again.

  “I’ll get rid of him if you need to talk.”

  “No, go on and take care of it. We can talk when I get back on Tuesday.”

  “If you’re sure…”

  “Yes, yes, go.” He shooed her away with his hands.

  She opened the door to a spate of a heated combination of Spanish and English and hurried out to the floor to fix the latest crisis.

  Deep down she believed Clark got rid of her so she couldn’t see how he got himself off that chair.

  Chapter 2

  “It says here that your name is Tara Kowalski,” Tempest said reading off of her notebook. They were at Tempest’s favorite restaurant for an introductory business mee
ting.

  “That’s right,” The blond in the tight red dress said. Tempest resisted the temptation to look, but the neckline of the dress seemed to plunge to the woman’s belly button. Secretly she sighed to herself. This Tara person looked like another clueless nut that had no idea how to run a business. Tempest sincerely hoped this potential customer could at least do the work she claimed she could do.

  “So tell me how you’ve been finding your accounts up to now,” Tempest invited, pulling booklets and pamphlets from her briefcase. She had developed the Blackthorn Method of Marketing which she shared only with her special customers. It was a rigorous set of guides and classes that she administered personally. Nearly all of her protégés had started out novices and become successful entrepreneurs under her tutelage.

  “Well, mainly I’ve been offering to have sex with them,” Tara told her tearfully, “but once the sex stops I lose the client.”

  “I don’t understand,” Tempest paused, “you said you were a financial planner.”

  “Well I heard your presentation at the Chamber of Commerce and you said to be innovative and think outside your industry.”

  “Ok,” Tempest pulled up the outline for a new client file on her notebook. “Tell me something unique about you that will compel new clients to want to visit your office and meet you.”

  “I have a blue asshole.”

  “I don’t see what that has to do with taking care of other people’s money.”

  “But in your presentation you said…”

  “I did not tell you to get a blue asshole,” Tempest snapped, “I also didn’t tell you to run naked through a business consortium and I didn’t tell you to pierce your nipples.”

  “Those last two didn’t work either.”

  “If you’re not going to be serious about this, I don’t see why I’m here.”

  “I’m very serious,” the blond exploded. One of her breasts popped out of her dress, nipple piercing and all. “Everyone says you’re so great, but I’ve tried some of your methods and I’m not doing any better than I was.” She carefully tucked her boob back behind her plunging neckline. “So someone said that maybe I misunderstood and talking to you would make me understand your methods better.”

 

‹ Prev