His jaw dropped at my honesty, and his cheeks reddened. “Well, sir... I'm sorry, but I...”
“No buts. Jacinda isn't an idiot and doesn't take kindly to being treated like one.”
His face fell, sweat prickling his forehead. “You know her?”
Of course, I knew her. I knew every-fucking-one in the business. I gritted my teeth. “That's why I trusted you to make the call. She's a great contact.”
He hung his head. “I'm sorry, sir.”
Sorry didn’t cut it, especially when he insulted a friend of mine by insinuating she was too inexperienced and tried to strong-arm her.
“I'm calling into Corporate to have a training staff to fly out.”
“Excuse me?” he gasped, eyes all but bugged out of his head.
“This branch desperately needs help. The tactics are outdated, and half of you don't know a sales call from your asshole.”
“Sir!” He flinched as if I slapped him.
It was a crude thing to say, but I didn't give a damn. “It's embarrassing.”
He sat there in silence, looking at anything but me. If the man ever had a backbone, it had dissipated long before I walked in the door
“You're a nice guy, Marty, but this place is crying out for help.” I rolled my shoulders, my heart pounding in my ears, a steady reminder I was too old to be hanging out at bars during the week. “I can't train you all. I have my own schedule to tend to. I don't have an assistant here either.”
I longed for one, a person who fielded what moron came waltzing into my office. I had one in Florida, but one in Ithaca didn't make much sense with my short stint.
“I could get you one!” He perked up like a spaniel eager to please. “You could use Lee or Elena!”
If Elena Julian sat outside my door, my sack would shrivel up and fall off within a month. I laughed, shaking my head. The man was clueless. “You're missing my point.”
“You said you need an assistant.”
“No, I said I didn't have one.”
“I could get you one!” There he was again with his incessant chatter.
“It isn't in the budget.” I rubbed the bridge of my nose, frustration growing to monstrous levels. “I don't need an assistant. I need a functioning team.”
“But our numbers...”
“They're on the uptick because I called in every favor I had in the region!” I exploded.
He fell silent. Apparently, the cold hard truth was all it took for some peace and fucking quiet out of him.
“The rest is on the team. As it stands, I only see Lee and Elena in the office late. That's it.”
“Monica -”
Really? The eternal suck up who eye-fucked me every chance she got? That was the best he could do?
“Is a fucking liar,” I finished, cutting him off. I crossed my arms, daring him to argue.
He didn't have a clue what I did and didn't know about what went on. Unlike good old Marty, I walked the sales floor and checked the metrics. I noted who was pulling their weight and who was skating by. Monica had been under-performing for years.
“Excuse me?” he huffed.
“She leaves right after you. She waits until you're gone and heads out.”
I heard her spit her venom at the other women when she didn't know I was listening. I watched her hurry to her car day in and day out, her output just as piss-poor as her attitude.
He was silent, not offering a hint of resistance. I wondered if maybe the two had something going on but quickly squashed the thought. He wasn't her type. She screamed gold digger, and his salary wouldn't offer her much, at least not enough to justify fucking him.
“You know how I know?” I leaned forward, begging him to say another stupid word.
His silence endured. He didn't dare ask.
“Because I'm here late every fucking day too.”
He swallowed hard, hanging his head.
“What's wrong with that picture, Marty? Huh?” I leaned back to allow him to defend himself, but he didn't utter a word.
“You're getting paid a nice salary to make sales. You're getting a cut of every commission dollar from the half-assed group you call sales reps.” I stretched my hands over my head, desperate to release the building tension, the movement causing him to flinch.
“While you're getting paid to do nothing, two women who make jack shit and not a single cent of commission are here making sure customers are happy! You should all be ashamed of yourselves!” I hadn't meant to raise my voice, but by the time I was done, I was shouting.
I waited for a response, watching the clock tick slowly. Once thirty seconds had passed, I was done. “I should fire every single one of you, but I have a tight deadline.”
“But sir...” he bumbled, eyes darting around wildly.
“No buts. I'm calling Preston, and having a team flown out.”
Preston Croft was the CEO of the company, grandson of the founder. He was in way over his head, inexperienced and severely lacking in the charisma category. He hated my guts, but he needed me. He also owed me some favors, especially after taking on such a shit-show assignment.
“You're excused.” I wasn't in the mood to watch him squirm any longer.
He practically ran from the room, his gait clumsy and flailing, thankfully shutting the door on the way out.
I debated leaving early to grab some much-needed ibuprofen and rest, but a small piece of paper to the right of the door caught my eye. I strolled over, plucking the envelope from the clutches of the hideous moss carpeting, turning it over to inspect it for a name. Nothing.
I wandered back to my desk, opening it. Inside there was a piece of ivory stationery, the background a faded butterfly design.
Dear Mr. Barrett, I'm sorry for running into you in my haste yesterday. Enclosed, you will find $20 for the dry cleaning of your jacket. Regards, Elena Julian.
Sure enough, a crisp twenty-dollar bill was tucked in the bottom of the envelope. I sighed.
Elena Julian wasn't going to slip into the background anytime soon.
