“I wish you were going with me to this meeting.”
“Me too, but I’m not a Mitchell and it doesn’t look like I will ever be.”
No response was best, Don thought. Abigail walked out. He waited a minute, giving her space. He’d go to the meeting, present the recovery proposal, and work hard not to let personal issues compromise his ability to lead. The pitfalls Joel encountered weren’t going to be his.
Don arrived at the boardroom slightly winded. He’d jaunted down the executive corridor. Tamara was waiting outside the door. “Ready?” he asked.
“Certainly am.”
They went inside. The other six members were seated with a copy of the presentation in front of them. “Good afternoon. I apologize for being a few minutes late, got tied up in a meeting right before this one.” Don took his seat and Tamara took one, too. “Before we get started I’d like to introduce you to my sister, Tamara Mitchell.” Muffled chatter erupted. Each member had heard about Tamara. None had met her previously. “She’s going to sit as a proxy in the vacant seat.”
“Where’s Madeline?” a member asked.
Don was intent on tact, disclosing the minimal amount required. His family was slowly recovering; extra speculation and misguided rumors were to be avoided.
“My mother is on sabbatical. Since this is an emergency meeting with short notice, she’ll be absent.” Don balanced on a delicate tightrope, careful not to slip into a willful lie. The truth was, she was too far away to make the meeting. The sabbatical story would last for only a meeting or two. They’d need a better excuse soon. “This meeting is primarily to get you up to speed on our financial status and to propose a recovery path. We can proceed with the members present.”
His best strategy was to take command up front and hold the reins. Images of out-of-control meetings were too raw, the ones where Joel and Madeline initiated heated disagreements with each other, consistently derailing the agenda. Remembering those confrontational times under Joel’s command, Don was inspired to grab hold of the meeting and maintain order. He asked Kay to take roll, documenting each member present for the record. “Let’s turn to page two.” The group followed his direction. “As you can see, the numbers haven’t changed much since our last quarterly meeting. We’re bleeding profits in each division.” He turned to the next page. “We need to take action in order to stop the hemorrhaging.”
“Drastic cuts,” someone said with endorsement from others.
“Cuts are going to help in the short term. For our long-term strategy, we need to create a leaner company, which brings us to section two of the presentation. We’re proposing that DMI move forward without recovering the West Coast or Southern divisions.”
Papers rustled and there were low groans. “We’d be changing the core strategy of the company. Your father intended for DMI to operate with all four divisions, in order to impact all regions of the country. We can’t do that with only the East Coast and Midwest,” a member said.
“If we don’t move forward with just the two, we’ll be out of business and won’t be able to impact anyone. Take your pick.” Don appreciated their passion to maintain Dave Mitchell’s wish. As founder he’d never wanted the company to be sold off in parts. But it was too late for those sentiments; Joel had shattered that wish. Don didn’t create the situation. His job was to salvage the most he could and help DMI emerge from the doorway of bankruptcy as a viable company.
“I thought you were going to merge DMI with your offshore company.”
The merger was a possibility, but Don wasn’t about to incorporate the disease-ridden DMI into his healthy LTI. “Once DMI is on the mend, we can tackle other scenarios.”
The crowd seemed to accept his rationale.
“What about the East Coast? At the last meeting, Madeline recommended an approach for retaining key accounts. How’s it working for us?” a member asked.
He gave a general response. The board wasn’t satisfied and pressed for specific details.
Don didn’t have the answer readily available. He thumbed through the report, finding no answers. Madeline could have answered in a split second. But she wasn’t there. Abigail was the next-best option. She wasn’t there either. He glanced at Tamara to see if she might have something to add. Nothing was offered. “I’ll note your question as a takeaway and get back to you with an answer.” He jotted a note to Kay as a reminder.
“What about results from the marketing test performed last month?”
Two questions in a row that he couldn’t readily answer aggravated him. He wasn’t adequately prepared. After only a week on the job, he didn’t expect to be. But he knew the board didn’t agree. He was the company head. Whether his tenure had been a day or a decade, he had to know the answers or have the people with him who did.
Don felt like the U.S. president calling a press conference to give an update on a specific topic and being bombarded by the media with a series of unrelated questions. Once the press conference was under way, no topics were truly off-limits.
“I’ve been in the CEO role for two weeks.” One week of it had been spent at LTI, but they didn’t care. The board of directors’ business was DMI. “But that’s no excuse. Rest assured I will be better prepared in our next meeting.” He took a quick glance at Tamara. He could tell she was uncomfortable, which didn’t help their cause. He did what had to be done. “Excuse me for a second,” he told the group, then whispered to Kay. She left immediately. “I’ve asked my assistant to get Ms. Gerard. She will be joining us for the rest of the meeting. You all know her.” Don saw Tamara fidgeting in his peripheral vision. “She’s on the executive team. She’s been in the trenches for the past two quarters and is intimately familiar with the lay of the land.” Don’s rising frustration weakened. “She’s not a board member yet, but she can add vital input into this meeting. Any objections to her joining?” No objections were raised. All were in favor. “Good, then let’s continue with the proposal in the interim. There’s a lot of ground we need to cover.” His resolve was restored.
chapter
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The meeting ended after an hour and a half. Tamara bolted from the room, ignoring a few members who wanted to meet her in person. To call the meeting a disaster would be a drastic understatement. Humiliated, Tamara bypassed the crowd. She had to stay steps ahead of Don, Abigail, and the rest of the group with their stares reinforcing her incompetence. Six flights of stairs dumped her into the lobby. Her purse and few belongings were being held hostage upstairs, with the exception of her hotel room key card and the eight dollars she had in her pocket for lunch. Her things were safe until later, when she could return undetected. She paced along the sidewalk. Where she went was insignificant as long as she was moving away from the building.
She couldn’t appear inadequate again, not if the goal was to stay on board. Tamara pondered how to fix her problem. She needed more time. That’s all. She’d been at the company only two weeks. Another two months and concerns about her worth would vanish. Based on Don’s reaction in the meeting, he wasn’t going to give her the time she needed. He could be asking Madeline to return at this very second. Now that she had been lured into coming back, Tamara wasn’t interested in bailing. Figuring out a plan of action was her priority.
Tamara’s walk slowed four blocks from the DMI building. When she initially arrived in Detroit, every man had looked like Remo, creating constant bouts of subdued hysteria. The two weeks since then had converted into dog years. Europe and Remo felt like fourteen weeks ago, at least. The bouts of fear were faint, a low-grade pain she could feel only when her mind was completely idle. Establishing a presence in DMI was the healing drug she’d come to crave. Getting smarter was the foremost objective, and she had to do it quickly. She’d walk until either the sidewalk ran out or her confidence started rising. She stepped into a local café. “May I please have a large latte with a splash of cinnamon, to go?”
“Will there be anything else with your order?”
Tamara completed her order and waited for the drink, thinking hard. The latte was handed to her. “Thanks.”
“If your drink isn’t exactly the way you want it, please don’t hesitate to bring the empty cup back. We’ll give you a new cup or fully refund your money,” the worker standing behind the counter said.
“What great customer service,” Tamara said. “How refreshing.”
“That’s our policy. I make sure every one of my employees understands how valuable each customer is. Every cup we sell has to be perfect.”
“Are you the manager?”
“Worse, I’m the owner. The cup stops with me.”
Tamara laughed. “Well, I’m impressed.” She extended another thank-you and exited the café with her enthusiasm soaring. The café owner inspired her to think broader. Ideas were flying around as she strode down the sidewalk, sipping the latte. Two blocks’ worth of thinking and bam, her answer was clear. She had to create her own company. That was it. Taking direction wasn’t her preference. She had to be in charge of her business, no matter how small. She radiated excitement, dumping her cup in the nearest garbage can, eliminating even the tiniest distraction. Focusing was critical. Time was short and getting shorter as Don grew more disappointed with her menial contributions.
Despite Tamara’s allegiance to Don, she decided she deserved to have her own piece of DMI.
Bolstered by hope, Tamara considered walking to her hotel, ten miles away. The distance was great. Her tenacity was greater. She picked up the pace, letting the possibilities catapult her forward. Today was ending much better than it had started. The Mitchell name was fitting better and better. This weekend she’d secure a furnished apartment, move in, and lay the foundation for stability, for the first time in her adult life. Good times were ahead.
chapter
36
Saturday was winding down and Tamara was chomping through her short list of potential apartments, standing in the last place she’d selected. Getting the right unit was taking longer than she’d hoped, but there wasn’t room for compromise. Her criteria had to be strictly enforced, with the most important component being security. She didn’t mind having to pay for two or three extra deadbolt locks, but the unit needed at least two for starters. A doorman or some form of building security, like locks on the entrance doors or a coded entry system, was critical. She couldn’t budge on that requirement. The apartment also had to be under $500 a month, be on or near the bus route, and offer a short-term lease. As of today, she was set on staying in Detroit for a while. Several factors would determine exactly for how long.
Tamara was anxious waiting for the rental agent to unlock the door leading into the model apartment. “This is our one-bedroom,” the agent said, finally getting the door open and handing a brochure to Tamara. “It has the standard bedroom, a small eat-in kitchen, living space, and a nice-sized bathroom. Each unit has a small balcony too.” They walked inside. The layout was fine. After a few of her last flats, size wasn’t as important as other things. They finished the mini tour and the agent asked, “Well, what do you think? Any questions?”
She had plenty. “How many locks come standard on the door?”
The agent appeared perplexed. “That’s an unusual question. I don’t generally get asked that one.” Tamara wasn’t surprised. Most people didn’t have someone chasing them down. “Each unit comes standard with one deadbolt lock.”
“Oh.” Tamara groaned, afraid this last complex wasn’t going to be suitable either, adding to a long list of rejects for the day. She was irritated, because every item on her list was mandatory, except maybe the term of the lease. She could always sign a long-term contract. If an unexpected situation required her to bolt without warning, the contract would be the least of her problems and wouldn’t hinder her from going. With further consideration, Tamara couldn’t turn the unit down yet. Each of the other choices had been eliminated. She was tired of looking. This had to be it. “Can you add another lock?”
“I suppose we can easily add a basic lock into the doorknob if that will make a difference for you.”
“That would be great.”
“Good, and since security seems to be an important factor for you, I want to point out the security keypad at each of our buildings. Our tenants use their keys to get into the front and rear doors. Visitors have to ring your unit from the keypad and be buzzed in for entry.”
“That’s good to hear.” The place didn’t have a doorman, but the security pad, the two basic locks on her apartment, and one or two more added could work.
Tamara felt better; the most important criterion was checked off. A few more to go and this could possibly be the one. She preferred a unit without a balcony. It added an extra safety risk. In order for her to be comfortable, she’d have to be on the seventh floor or higher. Any fool willing to climb that high wouldn’t be deterred by anything, but the seven stories could possibly give her the lifesaving time she needed to escape. “Do I get to choose a floor?”
“Depends on what’s available. When are you looking to move in?”
“Today, if I find the right place. Tomorrow would work also.”
“Move-ins are only allowed on the first of the month and on Saturdays. Each moving van is given a time slot. It’s very organized.”
“I won’t have a moving van.”
“We treat carloads the same as a moving van.”
“No carload either, just one suitcase.”
“I see,” the agent said, sounding bewildered but seeming reluctant to ask details. Tamara didn’t care so long as it didn’t hinder her ability to get an apartment. “Then you can move in as soon as the credit check clears and the paperwork, deposit, and first month’s rent are settled.”
“How much is the one-bedroom?”
“It’s $595, utilities and cable included.”
“When I was online, the ad said, ‘Starting at $465 per month.’ I need to be in that range.”
“I’m not sure what they had online. You know, corporate runs ads and doesn’t tell us the details.”
No, Tamara didn’t know. She needed this place and was counting on the price being right. She’d planned to ask for a raise and didn’t anticipate a problem getting the increase, but today’s lease had to be based on her current salary. For every dollar she spent in a month, she had to save two. Being home hadn’t altered her world much, not yet. She still had to keep sufficient funds to hop a plane and get a room in an undisclosed location without notice.
Her enthusiasm was dashed. She couldn’t afford the extra hundred dollars. “That’s going to be too much.”
“I see,” the agent said, scooping her clipboard from the kitchen counter along with Tamara’s hope. “Have you considered a studio? It’s about the same size as this one, minus the wall separating the bedroom from the rest of the unit.” The agent had Tamara’s full attention. She preferred studios anyway, allowing her to see every inch of the place at any time. “Those run four ninety-five a month.”
“That’s great, any on an upper floor?” She contained her glee. She was getting close to finalizing a deal and was thrilled; there were just a few more requirements to be satisfied.
The agent scanned the set of papers on the clipboard, pointing to several highlighted lines; there was nothing on page two, so she flipped on to three with Tamara’s anxiety steadily increasing. “I’m trying to find a studio that’s available this weekend. I’m not finding any,” she said, and flipped to the last page, letting her finger run down the list. “Ah-ha, wait, I found one, bingo. We have one on the eleventh floor. It was a corporate rental and the company terminated early. The only catch is that we won’t get the furniture out until midweek for garbage pickup.”
“But is the unit clean?”
“Absolutely, it’s clean.”
“Then is it possible to keep the furniture, since you’re going to throw it out?”
The agent hesitated. “I don’t see why not. Actually, you’ll save us the hassle
of having to empty the unit.”
“Okay, just so that I’m clear, this is a furnished studio on the eleventh floor for four ninety-five per month, and I can move in today?”
The agent checked a few more pages. “Yes, looks that way.”
One last hurdle. “How much is the deposit?”
“Normally it’s half the first month’s rent. Since you’re saving us the cost of emptying the unit, we can knock it down to one hundred dollars. How does that sound?”
“Where do I sign?”
The agent chuckled. “Follow me to the office. We’ll do a quick credit check, get the papers signed, and have the keys in your hand this afternoon. You can move in this evening.”
“Great.” Tamara would move in tomorrow or Monday, right after the locksmith added a couple more locks. She wasn’t certain of the building policy with regard to adding locks and wouldn’t ask to avoid a problem. No one was going to have unapproved access to her unit, not Remo or the handyman, not even the building’s owners. They just didn’t know it.
Tamara was pleased, except for the reality that a credit check and lease were going to make her more vulnerable and possibly easier to locate. Doubt tried to push past her and the agent and beat them to the office. Tamara shoved doubt from her thoughts, refusing to be deterred. She was finished running. She had to take a break and establish a new normal. Restless nights were sure to get better once she was settled into her new apartment.
chapter
37
The plan could work if Joel could get cash. He closed his office door to avoid being interrupted. It was eleven fifteen in the morning. Zarah and her assistant had gone to pick up a few things from the store, allowing him time alone, a rare commodity lately. He added the ten-and-a-half-hour time difference to get nine forty-five P.M., the time in India. Hopefully Zarah’s family attorney would be available today. Tomorrow was too far away.
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