Been there, done that. “You’re seeing things, girl,” I huffed, rolling my eyes. “Slow down on that drink. It’s hitting too quick.”
“Whatever,” she shot back. “I know what I see, and Jason Barrett totally wants a piece of you.”
My phone buzzed, and I smiled as I glanced down at its screen, knowing who it was.
Jay: My place at 11?
He wanted more than a piece. He wanted the whole pie.
Elena
Marty Radwell was the biggest wimp I ever met. A wimp mad at Jason and forcing me to play errand girl to avoid him.
At some point over the last week, they stopped talking, but I hadn’t pushed Jason for a reason. I could only assume he told Marty off, earning a spot in exile that rivaled the one he held with Monica.
Fortunately, I didn’t mind pinging back and forth, serving as a middleman while they figured out plans for upcoming conferences. It gave me a chance to stretch my legs and offered eye candy once I hit Jason’s office.
Marty was on edge for a Wednesday, sweating up a storm and downing coffees faster than usual. He already sent me down to Jason’s office a few times with binders of information, the stacks growing with each run.
Each time Jason looked irritated but didn’t say a thing, too wrapped up on conference calls. I was relieved he was busy, since the last time he chewed Marty out, the caffeine junkie went MIA for a day and left me with a to-do list a mile long.
Now he was beckoning to in his office again while I was on the phone with an angry customer, another delivery later than late. Rosy-cheeked and sweating, he was waving his arms like an air traffic controller, ignoring the fact I was on the phone.
“This is the third day I’ve called and been told the same excuse! I need to talk to a manager, NOW!” the man roared, rightfully pissed that his shipment was late.
I wanted to tell him I could see the product team forgot to order it, but knew that was Marty’s bad news to deliver, not mine. Now that he’d said the magic words, I was more than happy to pass him on.
“I’m sorry, sir. Let me forward you over to him. His name is Marty Radwell. Just one moment.” I merrily transferred the call, eager to see how Marty would handle it. He always choked on conflict, deflecting the best he could without solving the issue.
He vanished from the door, allowing me to respond to an email before heading his way. “I’ll be back,” I muttered, eyeing Lee, who was stretching in her cube space, her long arms stretching high. “Marty either needs me to play Pac-Man down to Barrett’s office or forgot how to open a spreadsheet again.”
I stalked to his office, adjusting my skirt on the way, the fabric clinging to my thighs thanks to the static in the air. As I stepped into his office, he gestured for me to shut the door, holding his phone and chewing his pen in agitation.
I didn’t want to stay, but he waved me over, and I had no choice but to sit in one of the worn stacking chairs in front of his desk. His office was freezing, forcing me to pull my cardigan close.
He was sweating up a storm, practically gnawing the cap of his pen off as he listened into the phone. “I understand, sir. I’ll have someone call you to discuss the issue at once. Yes, yes. I’m so sorry. Thank you.”
He hung up and grabbed a sip of coffee, tapping a free hand on the desk loudly as he did. “That was Mark from Brigadier International. I need you to call him about a delivery, honey.”
It was the exact call I sent him to handle since it was his job to handle escalations — not mine. “I sent you that call, sir. He needs to speak with management. Someone forgot to order his item, so it’s three weeks late.”
“Did you notify the product department?” he asked, stupidly.
“I did as soon as I noticed it wasn’t on order. It took days for them to order it, even with the intervention.”
“Was I notified?” he asked, again, stupidly.
“Yes, I told you twice in person and multiple times via email. If you check your inbox, you’re involved in chains between the product manager and me.”
It took an act of God in the form of Jason to get the items ordered; the shipment pending direct overnight delivery to the customer. It shouldn’t have taken multiple bodies to get the job done, but hiring fresh-out-of-college kids who were paid peanuts wasn’t a winning strategy.
“Oh, okay. I’ll look at that.”
Yeah, right, and I would grow a ten-inch penis out of my forehead.
“What can I help you with?” I asked, wanting to cut to the chase. I had too much work to do to be bogged down with his nonsense.
“I need you to attend a meeting in my place and take notes. I’ll be out of the office.”
“Uh...” I trailed, cocking my head. “When?” It wasn’t like I had free time out the wazoo like he did.
“In five minutes in the large conference room.”
I sighed, frustrated beyond belief. He left early almost every day. I didn’t understand how he kept a job.
“You’re the only one on the team trained on both product and sales, so you’ll be able to keep up with the language. I have an appointment.”
That caught my attention. Maybe he was finally looking for a new job. Perhaps he’d finally embrace his true calling and become something as equally useless like a pet rock.
“Is everything okay?” I asked.
“Everything is fine, but you better get going, or he’ll bite your head off. Mr. Barrett hates nothing more than people showing up late to his meetings.”
“Except being called Mr. Barrett,” I muttered.
“What?”
“He hates being called Mr. Barrett.”
“Oh,”
