Authors: Avery Stark
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TABLE
OF CONTENTS
***
The
shrill cry of the office phone near Audrey’s head snapped her back from the nap
that she slipped into just a few minutes before.
It’s a
good thing, too--she was starting to drool.
She
snatched the handset from the cradle and sighed, wiping away the wet spot with
the sleeve of her thick sweater. Even though it was still the beginning of
September, a historic cold front rolled in days before, giving most of Chicago
into an unexpected taste of the bitter winter to come.
Audrey
nested the curved receiver between her ear and shoulder.
“Audrey
Davis.”
On the
other end was the commanding, deep voice of her boss.
“Come to
my office in thirty minutes.”
“Yeah,”
she replied plainly. “Okay.”
Before
she had a chance to say anything else, there was a loud clatter and then a
click. With as much as they used their phone system in the office, every day
pleasantries were quick to fall by the way-side for most of the hundred or so
employees.
Audrey
tipped back in her chair and tried to blot away the moisture that was left
behind from her cat nap. As if drooling wasn’t enough, she managed to do so
right in the middle of a client’s tax file, leaving a perfect circle of spit
over thousands of dollars in deductions. In fact, they amounted to more than
she made in a year.
Accounting
wasn’t her passion either, not by a long shot. When she enrolled in the
program in college, the choice of major was just an afterthought to her real
love: sports. Whether it was volleyball, soccer or even badminton, Audrey was
involved in almost everything that her school had to offer.
She
dropped her hands down to the sides of her hips and rested them against the
worn-out fabric that covered her office chair. Even though she felt glued to
the thing, the hours of sitting didn’t affect her toned, fit figure all that much.
She put on a few pounds in the beginning but they only enhanced her feminine
figure. Between that, her deep blue eyes and her long, wavy blonde locks,
Audrey could easily pass for a California valley girl. True to form, she loved
every beach, ocean, lake and river that she ever visited, which made the
all-day desk treatment during the week even more unbearable.
But as
boring as her job was, it wasn’t all bad. The pay, while it might have been a
drop in the bucket to some of her firm’s clients, was comfortable. She got
vacation time, bonuses and guaranteed raises every six months. Her position as
an account manager at KWP wasn’t a bad one, it was just dull enough to make her
eyes feel like they were going to bleed from time to time.
She
glanced up to the noisy clock that sat just above the wall of her cubicle. It
was already close to the end of the work day, putting her meeting with Mr.
Waterhouse, the outspoken partner who represented the W in KWP, dangerously
close to when she needed to leave.
If it was
any other night, Audrey would have been happy to stay after hours. She did it
hundreds of times during intense audits and wild tax seasons, but that Friday
was one that she had been looking forward to for a long, long time.
She and
her husband of almost ten years, Max, were scheduled to have dinner together at
one of the most exclusive new restaurants in town. They secured the spot
almost three months earlier and after the heated argument over dishes they had
the night before, it couldn’t have come at a better time.
Like her
job, Audrey’s marriage wasn’t the worst thing that could’ve happened to her.
Even though the two of them married young--she was only 22--their relationship
managed to outlast many of their friends’. But as they moved into a decade of
being together, things started to stagnate. Max, who used to be so aggressive
and feisty in the bedroom, was now passive and bland. He wasn’t interested in
trying anything new, preferring instead to settle for the same-old, same-old.
His dismissive attitude made Audrey nuts, but at the same time it gave her the
drive to try even harder to make things work. Ten years was a long time to
just throw away.
She spun
around in her chair so that she could see through the long windows on the other
end of the floor. Dark, heavy clouds sat low over the city, threatening to
pour just as rush hour was set to begin.
Audrey
looked back at the clock one last time and was surprised to find that nearly 25
minutes passed while she was stuck, day-dreaming. She hopped up from her seat
and tried to smooth away the wrinkled pleats in her slacks.
“Audrey,
what’s new?”
The head
of her neighbor poked up from behind the blue-gray divider.
“Hey
Sal. I have to go talk to Mr. Waterhouse real quick but I’m trying to get out
of here.”
“Me
too,” he said and threw both arms over the wall. “I got a hot date.”
Audrey
chuckled.
“Never
change, Sal.”
He
pointed both of his index fingers at her.
“I don’t
intend to.”
She
shook her head and started toward the meeting. It was only a short walk to Mr.
Waterhouse’s office and he was already inside. He sat behind his desk with
both hands clasped and rested in front of him.
One
dinner
, she
pleaded.
Let me have just one damn dinner.
A short,
wide man with a fading ring of white hair, Mr. Waterhouse was already 30 years
into his career when Audrey started with the company. He was often a man of
few words and didn’t take kindly to the younger generation, especially women.
In many ways, he preferred the good-old boys’ atmosphere that the accounting
business seemed to be infected with, often giving the hardest and most
prestigious projects to Audrey’s male counterparts.
If it
weren’t for the required promotions in her contact, she wondered if he would
have moved her to the damn mail room, given the chance.
“Have a
seat.”
Audrey
sank down into one of two chairs near the door and tried her best to pay
attention to whatever he wanted to discuss. There were a number of accounts
that needed to be straightened out for the upcoming corporate tax extension
deadline, on top of all of their regular work.
“I
haven’t had a chance to look at the Collins data yet but-”
“This
isn’t going to take long,” he interrupted and pulled the small, wire-rimmed
glasses away from his perpetually-red face.
Though
the man was often impatient, his curt tone surprised Audrey a little.
“Okay.”
He
grunted and shifted in his seat before continuing, “As you are aware, many of
the clients that we have left are struggling with the recession.”
Again,
the stout partner caught her off guard with his lengthy speech. Though she
wasn’t sure where he was going with it, an unpleasant feeling started to seep
into the back of her thoughts.
“Because
of that,” he continued, “we are going to be downsizing this department.
Unfortunately, you are one of the ones that we can’t keep.”
She
didn’t realize it right away, but her hands started to shake as they gripped
the chair’s leather arm rests. Of all the things that she thought the meeting
would be about, losing her job was the last one she expected.
“Are you
firing me?”
“Well,”
Mr. Waterhouse replied and rested his hands on his round belly. “Laid off is
the technical term, but yes. I’m sorry. A severance package has been put
together, the terms of which you can read up on here.” He passed a manila
envelope across the desk and set it down in front of her. On the bottom, right
corner, her name was scribbled across it as ‘Audrey David’.
The
handwriting was unmistakable.
I’ve
been here how many years and this arrogant prick still doesn’t even know my
name?
She
grabbed the yellow package off of the desk and walked out without saying
another word. In reality, she couldn’t have forced out a single sound without
bursting into tears. The corners of her eyes burned with the ones that
threatened to spill over. They blurred her vision as she raced back through
the empty office, grabbed her purse and fled to her car outside.
Audrey
sank down behind the wheel and waited until the door closed before she let
loose. As big tears rolled over her high cheek bones, she threw the envelope
down onto the passenger seat and angrily jammed a key into the ignition.
Everything
about what just happened--the reality of being jobless like so many others--hit
her like a brick wall.
With
hands shaking, she flipped down the visor and popped open a flap that contained
a small mirror and two lights, which flicked on and illuminated the black lines
of her running mascara. Audrey ran her index fingers under each eye and
whipped away the dark stains before she dug into her purse for her cell phone.
She mashed away at the screen until it finally called Max, who answered on the
first ring.
“Audrey?
Are you stuck in traffic?” In the background, plates and glasses tinkered. He
was already at the restaurant and sounded impatient. “I’m waiting for you.”
She
tried her best to suck down another fit of sobs. If she let herself go again,
there was no way that he would to be able to understand her.
“I’m not
feeling so well, Max.”
What was
once simple exasperation in his voice turned to outright frustration as he
continued, “We booked this thing months ago and I can’t get a refund. You need
to get down here and suck it up.”
“Look,”
she relented. “I need to talk to you.”
There
was a pause on the line, though just in Max’s voice. The din of the restaurant
went on, uninterrupted.
“Max?”
“That’s
perfect. I do, too,” he said, suddenly sounding a little happier. “We can
talk over dinner. Just get down here.”
Audrey
groaned and pressed a hand to her hot forehead.
“Over
dinner? I don’t know if that’s the best place for-”
“It’s
fine,” he interrupted. “I’ll see you soon.”
All of
the noise on the other end of the line went dead and the phone beeped a few
times, signaling to Audrey that the call was over. She tossed it onto the
passenger seat and wondered why Max was so insensitive. Yes, the dinner was
cost a lot of money, but that didn’t mean that she should have to sit through
it while on the verge of a nervous breakdown.
If he
would let me talk, I could’ve told him that.
She
sniffled and sat up straighter in her chair, snapping the visor shut and
folding it out of the way. With two tissues from the glove compartment, she
dotted away the errant makeup streaks, taking deep breaths through the thin
sheet to try and calm herself down.
Maybe
it’s not such a bad thing
,
she thought as she started the engine and shifted the car into reverse.
Going
out might do me some good.
___
The line
around the restaurant stretched for almost a city block, though all of the
folks without reservations stood a snowball’s chance in hell of actually
getting in. But that didn’t stop them from camping out by the hundreds, hoping
to snag a seat to the hottest new restaurant in town, ‘Olives & Salt’.
Situated
on the roof, two machines threw brilliant beams of light that danced and dipped
around each other. They cast shifting, white orbs onto the low-lying clouds.
Audrey let her eyes follow them mindlessly as she waited for the next valet
attendant. For the moment, any break from the sucker-punch to her gut was welcome.
Before
she spaced out too long, a young man tapped her window with a finger.
She
popped the door open and greeted him, to which he tipped his head slightly and
finished opening it for her.
“Welcome,
ma’am. Do you have a reservation tonight?”
“Yes,”
she answered, quickly grabbing her purse and climbing out of her car. “My
party is already inside.”
“Excellent,”
he responded and pointed her toward a red carpet that led to the entrance.
“Just head straight and they’ll take care of you.”
He
handed her a ticket and went on his way, disappearing with her car before she
even made it to the attendant waiting out front: a small, bubbly young woman
with thick glasses and ringlet curls.
“Welcome,”
she hollered over the crowd noise. “Can I help you?”
“Yeah my
husband is already here. I’m just trying to find him.”
“His
name?”
“Max
Davis.”
The
woman scanned the computer screen at her station and adjusted her heavy frames.
“Ah
yes. Maxwell Davis. Right this way.”
Once
they were beyond the restless masses waiting outside, the intimate dining room
was relatively quiet. It was packed wall-to-wall, of course, but the people
inside had a hushed, more reserved tone.