"Mr. Cummings is successful at his job because he knows what he's doing. That doesn't mean he knows what you're doing, so if he tries to take over, remind him you can handle the details, and he has a deadline. It usually works like a charm. You'll be fine. Maura."
Kyle chuckled. "Well, um, can I speak with him before I say yes or no?" he asked.
He saw Mrs. Herrington glance at the phone. "Sure. He's off the line, so go ahead. I'll finish cleaning out the desk. Why don't you suggest to him you'll take it on a trial basis? That way, if either of you decides it isn't working, we'll hold your job in Support Services for you, but in the meantime, I'll start looking for a replacement. If it ends up working out with Mr. Cummings, then no problem," she suggested.
Kyle leaned forward. "Does, um, does he know? I mean, about me?"
He saw the look of puzzlement cross her face before she smiled. "No, Kyle, he doesn't know, and he doesn't have to know. It's up to you regarding who you tell about your past. Mr. Timmons was clear when he offered you the job downstairs, wasn't he?" It was then Kyle remembered the meeting with Jerome Timmons, the managing partner.
"Oh, Kyle, come in, Son, please. Take a seat. Don't be nervous about this because you've come to be known as an exemplary employee, and Marion and I've discussed it. We'd like you to stay on for as long as you'd like to work here. She has the paperwork in her office, but I wanted to offer you the job myself.
"I'm very proud of you, my boy, for putting your past behind you, and I promise you, we will put your past behind you as well. No one, aside from Marion or myself, will ever know anything regarding how you came to work here unless you tell them yourself. In my mind, you have a clean slate. You've proven yourself more than worthy of a fresh start," the older man told him. Kyle had never been more touched in his life.
"Yes, ma'am. He was clear and more than fair. You've both been more than fair," he told her as the door of Grant Cummings' office suddenly opened.
Cummings stepped out and walked over to the cubicle where Kyle and Marion stood. "You've put forth the offer then?" the short blond man inquired.
Kyle took a deep breath and turned to him, smiling sheepishly. "Yes, she's offered, and I'll agree to a temporary assignment. You might not like me, Mr. Cummings. I'm a hard worker, but I don't take anyone's bullsh… bull," Kyle stated, happy he remembered the lady standing behind him, so he didn't say "bullshit" by mistake.
"Excellent. Let's get started then. Do you have my copies?" Cummings asked.
"Grant, he needs to finish out his day downstairs, and he's just on his way to lunch. I'll get Destiny to sit here since Cooper's out, but you'll have to rely on your team for any grunt work you need today," Marion ordered.
Kyle was impressed. She handled herself well, which was a lesson to him. "Oh, yes, of course. Then, how about I review the boards while you go to lunch, Kyle?" Cummings asked. Kyle was a bit taken aback at Cummings’ response to Mrs. Herrington's forceful comments. He seemed to immediately cower, which was a shock because he came off as a bully most of the time.
"Sure, Mr. Cummings," Kyle responded. Cummings walked to the doorway of his office and gave Kyle a little smirk. The only thought going through his head at the time…
"Will you walk into my parlor?” said the spider to the fly;
“’Tis the prettiest little parlor that ever you did spy.
The way into my parlor is up a winding stair,
And I have many pretty things to show when you are there.”
“O no, no,” said the little fly, “to ask me is in vain,
For who goes up your winding stair can ne’er come down again.”
“The Spider and the Fly,” a poem by Mary Howitt (1799-1888). Published in 1829.
It was from a children’s poem he remembered reading with his grandmother when he was a small boy. He thought it was written back in the nineteenth century by a woman, but what he remembered about it most was his grandmother shivered every time they read it because she hated spiders. He wondered if it was going to be a self-fulfilling prophecy or a metaphor for his future?
Chapter 3
Kyle found himself sitting in a conference room on the sixth floor, where client meetings were held. It was five thirty that same day, and he was a bit overwhelmed. He'd finished his workday, but as he was about to leave, the phone rang in the copy room.
"Support Services, this is Sridhar," his coworker answered. Kyle was busy binding a presentation book one of the creative teams had brought down for a client meeting the next day, so he didn't hear the short, thin Indian man calling his name until a pencil bounced against the back of his head.
"What!" he scowled at Sridhar, seeing the bright smile on his face. Kyle really liked working with him and Gerard. They were easy-going guys, and he'd miss them if when he moved upstairs.
"Line one, jackass," Sridhar responded with a chuckle.
"Kyle Rance," he answered.
"It's me, Grant Cummings. Can you come up to six when you're finished? We're in Conference Room D. Mr. Tucano would like to meet you. He likes the concept we've given him, and he wants to bounce some ideas off of us. Since you provided the drawings, I wouldn't want to hog the glory. We'll go for dinner after," Cummings told him.
"Uh, okay, I guess. I'll be up after five," Kyle offered. Cummings agreed before he hung up. Kyle was terribly nervous about the whole thing, but he had been given a golden opportunity, and he wasn't going to squander it. His old P.O., Elaine Myers, would have boxed his ears at even giving it a second thought.
"So, Kyle, this is Lorenzo Tucano. Mr. Tucano, this is Kyle, one of our artists.
“Mr. Tucano was curious about your concept going forward. We both like the options you've supplied, so, if this were your campaign, how would you imagine future ad campaigns proceeding, especially the upcoming seasonal advertisements?" Grant Cummings asked.
When Kyle looked into the ad man's eyes, he saw fear, which shocked him totally. He'd have never guessed Grant Cummings would be afraid of anything, much less the advertising business in which he was regarded as a big up-and-comer in the city.
"Uh, well, off the top of my head, there are any number of opportunities to keep the campaign fresh. Uh, graduations, job interviews, weddings, holiday parties. Each occasion offers a unique chance to showcase Tucano’s menswear lines, both the business and formal designs," he suggested, looking for any encouragement from Grant Cummings, whose face was a total blank.
"Such as?" the younger man, who was likely Kyle's age, pressed. He looked very much like the older man to his left… the deep, olive complexion and wavy, dark-brown hair. The younger man's eyes seemed to dance a bit, which intrigued Kyle. It was like the exotic man was issuing a challenge, and Kyle was always up for showing off a little… or a lot.
"Well, let's say for wedding season, you show the groom struggling to tie his bowtie. An older man… maybe his father... comes into frame and pushes the groom's hands away, standing behind him as the two looked into an antique mirror. After the tie business is settled, they both put on Tucano tuxedo jackets and leave the room.
"Cut to a beautiful honeymoon suite with a gorgeous woman in a wedding dress standing in front of her new husband, pushing the jacket off his shoulders. Then the tag… 'The only reason to take off a Tucano tuxedo.' It appeals to both generations, father and son, and it puts it in young men's minds if they want to live up to daddy's expectations, they need to dress the part," Kyle explained. It was all coming out of his ass, but he saw the senior older man nodding, which indicated he liked what he heard.
"You could adapt the campaign to include nearly any situation, really. Your suits are gorgeously made, and they are classically styled, so you could do a campaign showing a graduate getting his college diploma in his first Tucano. You could show him interviewing, and then at business dinners or some other occasions in the same Tucano. We could change the tag to something like, ‘The perfect suit for every occasion,' or 'The classics are never out of style.’ We can work on it, ri
ght, Mr. Cummings?" Kyle offered, trying to include the man who seemed to have been struck dumb, though Kyle couldn’t fathom why.
He saw Cummings seem to snap out of it as a natural smile overtook his face, hiding the panic Kyle had seen there a minute earlier. "Exactly, Kyle. The angle for the younger demographic can work with the hetero and the gay target demographics. I realize why your former firm went with your old campaign because your suits are crafted by artisans, thus the hefty price, but today's younger men, gay men included, they want quality as well, and they're willing to pay for it. If we make the 'Tucano' brand cool again, you'll see them flying off the racks, Mr. Tucano," Cummings offered.
The older man said something to his younger counterpart in Italian, which brought a smile, who then turned to Kyle. "Do you have a Tucano?" the younger man, Lorenzo, asked. Kyle assumed, based on the conciliatory nature of their interaction.
Kyle chuckled. "Oh, but how I wish. No, I'm afraid I don't have the financial wherewithal to be the owner of one of those beauties yet. I go to a nice second-hand shop here in town and purchase something of quality, and then I take it home and tailor it myself," he responded without thinking.
The older man smiled. "Oh, you sew?" he asked, using English for the first time since Kyle had walked into the room.
Maybe a little lie might be in order? It was for a good cause, after all. "I do. My grandmother was a seamstress, and I learned at her knee. I don't make my own clothes, but I do my own tailoring."
The older man looked at his watch and smiled. "Shall we go for drinks? I'd like to hear more about your ideas, Mr. Kyle."
"Oh, no, Mr. Tucano. It's just Kyle. My surname is Rance," he offered, remembering Cummings had introduced him merely as 'Kyle.' He could understand the man's confusion. He was confused about things himself.
"How about we meet at our hotel, Grandfather? There's a nice restaurant downstairs. I'll get a reservation for dinner at seven. Can you be there by six thirty?" Lorenzo asked as he turned to look at first Kyle, then Grant.
Kyle was looking at the older man, surprised he was the younger's grandfather. The older Tucano was exceptionally well-preserved.
"We'll be there," Cummings responded before Kyle could say anything. It wasn't as if he had another appointment or somewhere to be, but he would have appreciated the chance to respond on his own. He and Grant Cummings had a lot to work through if they were going to be a productive team going forward.
After the Tucano men were on the elevator, Kyle followed Grant Cummings back to the conference room to clean up the papers and set Mr. Cummings straight about their business relationship. He slammed the door, hoping to diffuse his anger to be civil to his new boss. "You know, Mr. Cummings, you could have asked me if I was free before you just assumed I'd cancel my plans to accompany you to this dinner. What the fuck was wrong with you, by the way? You sat there like a fucking bump on a log.
"I haven't officially accepted the job, you know? I was happy to help you with this campaign, but you've got a creative team to work with on this shit. Where are they?" Kyle snapped, allowing his temper to take the place of his common sense. He'd be lucky if he had a job after the shit that just flew out of his mouth.
"Let's take this to my office, okay?" Cummings asked quietly, which threw Kyle off a little. He expected a lot of yelling in return for his outburst, but the more subdued response was disconcerting.
Kyle nodded before scooping up the boards and copies to follow Grant Cummings to the stairs. They traversed the two flights down in silence, and when Grant slid his security card over the reader, he opened the door and held it for Kyle.
They made their way to Grant's office, and once inside, Grant took the boards and placed them on the credenza. He extended his hand for Kyle to take a seat on a leather wing-back chair across from his desk as he reached into a bottom drawer and pulled out two glasses and a decanter filled with brown liquor.
"It's whiskey. Is that okay? Do you prefer it with ice?" Grant asked as he headed toward the door.
"Neat is fine," Kyle snapped, his frustration peaking. He wasn't inclined to want to play whatever game Grant Cummings was playing. He felt more confident when he had his footing. At that moment, he was hanging on by a thread.
Kyle watched as Grant walked over to the desk and poured two fingers in each glass. He walked back to where Kyle was sitting and handed one to him before taking the chair next to him. "To your health," Grant offered as a toast. Kyle touched his glass with the blond's and took a sip, tasting none of the bite of cheap whiskey. It was definitely the good shit.
After a moment, Grant looked down at his glass as he began speaking. "Thank you so much, Kyle. You saved my ass in there with Tucano. I, uh, I've been in a bit of a slump of late. That's why Cooper and I, well, that's too much to discuss right now, but I'm suffering from a creative block at the moment.
"You see, my last three campaigns weren't exactly my creations. They were Cooper's. I was too damn arrogant to give him credit, but what he did in retaliation with those pictures… well, we were really awful together from the beginning.
"I know, business and pleasure should never be bedmates in a relationship, but I don't socialize at all, therefore meeting people outside the company is impossible. I find it tiresome trying to make small talk with someone I likely share no similar interests, so work occupies all of my time.
"Cooper joined the firm two years ago, working with Talia Benson before she left us to take a job in New York. For the last three months, since I picked up Cooper from the Vosti Foods team, we were working closely together and began a physical relationship, which obviously turned into a disaster. Lester Symington and I had a presentation for Kirkov Vodka, and I refused to take Cooper along for the pitch, even though the ideas were all Cooper’s. I've been in a bit of a slump, and I know it was a shit move, but I was against the wall.
"I made a mistake by taking credit for his ideas, but I'm burned out or something, and I don't want to fall under the partnership's bad graces because of personal shortcomings. I've given this firm a lot of myself since… Who the fuck am I kidding? I have no good excuse right for my behavior, Kyle, except I'm sorry that I reacted so poorly under the circumstances.
"In retaliation for my horrible judgment, Cooper slept in my bed with a bartender from this place we used to go for dinner. I came home from the Kirkov meeting to find them in my bed, sound asleep and naked.
"Cooper and I had a screaming fight, and I told him we needed to stop seeing each other. I told him I thought it would be best if he looked for another job, but I promised a good recommendation and that he could take as much time as he needed to find one. Apparently, he took it badly, and he used those pictures against me. Well, you know the rest," Grant explained quietly, eyes focused on the grey carpet.
The news was a bit unnerving. However, there was something about Cummings' behavior that was a bit unsettling to Kyle. One minute he was aggressive; the next, he was almost demure. Kyle had no idea what the fuck was going on, but he knew if he was going to get beyond being the best copy maker in the firm, he'd have to be resourceful and fast thinking.
Being quick on his feet wasn't anything he hadn't been used to when he was in business back at Penn State. Had he not been greedy and stupid, he could have continued his con through the whole four years.
When that asshole, Mike Plummer, talked him into forging some papers for his uncle who was in the middle of a sticky divorce, he had no idea said uncle was a detective with the Pennsylvania Bureau of Investigations, nor did he know Mike got caught with the fake ID that Kyle had made for him, and was going to be charged with a lot of shit that would put his scholarship in jeopardy. He'd made a deal to pin it on Kyle, and… well, in hindsight, Kyle had been ridiculously naïve about the entire thing. It was no wonder he got caught.
"Okay, well… you're going to have to get your shit together, Mr. Cummings. I'm not exactly executive material, you know? You have to take the lead at this dinner if you want to keep their bus
iness. How have meetings with them gone in the past?" Kyle quizzed.
He saw Cummings cringe a bit. "There's only been the initial pitch meeting, and Jerome handled it with a few of us attending as a show of force, really. You see, I'm not exactly comfortable in the driver's seat, especially since I've been struggling with this creative block." He saw Grant Cummings' face blaze as his eyes cast downward again.
"I have a hard time being the person in the position of power in any relationship, business, or personal. I've worked so hard at trying to be more aggressive, but it's tough for me. I've only been a junior partner for a year, and I've tried to become more of a leader, but I still struggle with it."
For a moment, Kyle thought Grant Cummings was pulling his leg. He could see the man was a wreck, and as he glanced at the crystal clock on the large Cherrywood desk, he saw they only had an hour before they were to meet the clients for dinner.
"Okay, um, well… what would you suggest we…" Kyle trailed off, knowing that wasn't going to work at all.
He saw Grant Cummings glance up before he looked back at the floor. Kyle's mind was immediately drawn back to a couple he knew back in college. They were friendly, but they were very odd, in his opinion. He did, however, learn a thing or two based on the behaviors he witnessed from spending time with the two of them.
He took a breath and rose from his chair. He was going to have to take the lead if they weren't going to look like idiots. "Okay, if I'm going to work for you, we need to get a few things straight. You will approach me with respect. If you think you're going to treat me like shit just because I'm your assistant, you're wrong.
"Going forward, we'll discuss client meetings if I'm expected to participate. You will not surprise me with meetings, drinks, or dinners. I'll be maintaining your calendar, and you won't log appointments without my knowledge. You need someone to manage your office and you. The only way I'll accept the position is if you agree with my terms," Kyle stated resolutely.
He saw Grant Cummings look up at him with wide eyes. He then looked down at the floor again. "Okay, um, how would you like to be addressed?"
Unbreak Him Page 3