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Authors: Rosemarie A D'Amico

Monahan 01 Options (17 page)

BOOK: Monahan 01 Options
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“Well, Mr. Harmon. Should I go home? It’s time to be thinking about dinner and what to wear to work tomorrow. Not that you have to worry about what to wear tomorrow,” I said.

“Oh sure. Rub it in. And I thought we’d agreed not to talk about work any more today,” he said. “And no, you shouldn’t go home unless you want to. We can eat here or go out. Whatever you want.”

I thought about staying over at Jay’s for another night and as appealing as that was, I knew I shouldn’t push my luck.

“Well, if we stay here, you’ll have to do the cooking. What’ve you got?”

“Do you care? Let me make dinner and you can see if there’s anything on the TV.” He got up and handed me the remote control off the coffee table. “Don’t exert yourself,” he laughed as he headed for the kitchen.

This man was definitely a catch. He cooked and I got to play with the remote. It doesn’t get any better than this, I thought. I stretched out on the sofa and flicked through the channels. I could hear Jay in the kitchen behind me opening cupboard doors and making cooking sounds. I surfed the channels and settled on a golf game from Pasadena. I wasn’t sure what was more exciting - watching golf on TV or watching paint dry. I flicked the remote a few more times and found some historical show about the castles of Germany. The scenery in the show was beautiful and some of the scenes looked vaguely familiar. My dad had been in the army and we had been posted to Germany for three years and I was sure some of what I was watching on the TV was on our home movies.

The smell of something interesting wafted in from the kitchen and my stomach growled. This was definitely not junk food.

“Let me know when you want me to set the table,” I said over my shoulder to Jay. I don’t think he heard me because he had the radio on low in the kitchen. I pushed the mute button on the TV and just watched the picture. I could hear the radio now and Jay had the station set to soft rock. The whole situation was very homey and domestic. The only thing missing was a dog and two kids. With my luck it’d be a barking dog and two snot nosed kids. I shook my head to clear the thought.

I had dozed off by the time dinner was ready and I woke up when Jay shook my shoulder.

“Hey, sleepy-head. Wake up. Come on, dinner’s ready.”

“How many times in the last few days have you had to wake me up?” I asked with a grin.

“A few. But who’s counting? Dinner’s served, madam. Let me show you to your table.” He held out his hand and helped me off the sofa.

Not surprisingly, dinner was superb. Jay had prepared a pasta dish, the name of which I didn’t ask. I hadn’t seen it recently on the menu at McDonald’s. I took my time cleaning up after dinner because I was reluctant to go home.

“Well,” I said to Jay as I hung the wet dishtowel on the hook beside the refrigerator, “that’s about it. I should be heading home.”

“You can’t stay?” Jay asked.

“I could but I shouldn’t,” I replied. “This has been a perfect day of domestic bliss, albeit in your home. And I don’t want to overstay my welcome. Besides, you don’t wear the same size underwear and pantyhose that I do and I’d have to leave early and go home to get ready for work.”

Jay laughed. “You could call in sick and take the day off.”

“I could. But Didrickson would probably fire me and then we’d both be out of jobs. Triple bypass surgery is the only excuse for missing work during a week when we’re having a board meeting. What are you going to do tomorrow?”

“I think I’m going to take your advice and call the Tower of Jell-O. I’ll plead and cry and see if Tom’ll talk some sense into someone. Basically, I’m going to beg for my job back.”

“Do you want me to talk to him?” I offered. I thought I might be treading on thin ice here because I knew how proud Jay was. But - a job’s a job.

“No. I can handle it,” he said.

“Will you promise me though that if you think I can help, you’ll swallow your pride and ask me? I can bully Tom into anything you know. I can have him whimpering in a corner in two seconds. All I have to do is tell him his tie doesn’t match his socks. The guy would be a basket case. Then I could swoop in and go for the kill. Make him promise to give you your job back for some fashion advice.”

We both laughed. Jay stood up and put his arms around me.

“If it comes down to it and I think it’s necessary, I’ll ask for your help.” He kissed me lightly on the forehead and then hugged me.

I looked up at him. “Walk a lady to her car?” I asked.

“Sure. But doesn’t that smack of male chauvinism?” he joked.

“Not at all. It’s polite and it shows manners. Your mom would be proud of you. Besides, I haven’t used my car all day and I want to make sure it starts.”

“Then I’d be honoured to escort you. Hang on while I get my apartment keys.”

My car started on the first try. Damn. I think I was secretly hoping it wouldn’t start and I’d have an excuse to stay. Jay leaned in the driver’s side window and gave me a kiss. “You’ll call me?” he asked.

“Sure,” I said slowly. “When? When I get home? Later tonight? Tomorrow? You’ve gotta understand, I’m really rusty at this game and I’m not sure of the rules.”

“Whenever. And I’m rusty too. If you want to call me when you get home, that’d be great. And then you could call me later tonight. And then again tomorrow. Let’s make up the rules as we go.” He smiled at me.

“No problem coach. Thanks for a great time, Jay.” I put the car in gear. “Now get your head out of my car before I drag you down the street.”

chapter twenty-three

By the time I reached the office the next morning I was in a complete panic. It was eight forty-five and I was late for work for the first time in recent history. I had slept like a well-fed baby the night before and my dreams had been wonderful. I slept through the alarm and then got caught in traffic.

My breath was short as I hurried down the hall to my office and I tried to calm myself. First of all, Kate, you’re never late for work. Secondly, who cares? You work most nights well past quitting time. I continued to lecture myself as I hung my coat on the back of the door. Continue acting like a junior secretary who’s required to punch a clock and you’ll be treated like one.

The door caught Harold Didrickson on the foot as I tried to close it after hanging up my coat. I quickly caught the handle and pulled it back open.

“Sorry. I didn’t see you there,” I apologized. What the hell does he want, I thought. He never comes in my office.

“Kate. Have you got a minute?” he asked politely.

“Sure Harold.”

He hesitated for a moment like he was on the edge of a high diving board. “I wanted to remind you that working hours here are from eight to five. If you’re late, it doesn’t set a good example for the other support staff,” he said. With a straight face. I looked closely at him to make sure he wasn’t joking. Of course, I thought, he doesn’t joke around.

My blood pressure started rising and my right ear lobe started to burn. I thought about all the times Harold wandered into the office on his own sweet time and left early on those beautiful summer days to get in nine holes. Obviously though, he didn’t consider himself support staff.

I thought about all the times I had stayed late into the night working on documentation for an acquisition. Or preparing for board meetings. All the times I’d traveled on weekends, on
my time
, to attend those board meetings to look after grown men and all their whims and fancies. Some times I’d worked so late I only had time to go home and shower because I had to be back at the office by eight. Or the times Harold had gone on vacation leaving me to deal with outside counsel, the auditors, bankers and underwriters on a crucial financing.

The miserable little prick was about to find out about my interpretation of work-to-rule.

“Eight to five?” I repeated. He nodded.

“Then remember that when I leave today at five,” I said. “And for that matter, I’ll be leaving every day this week, including Thursday when the board meeting is in full swing, at five.” I opened the top drawer of my desk and slammed it shut for emphasis. He blanched.

“Can I get you a coffee, Harold?” I asked sweetly. His colour quickly returned and his cheeks turned pink. He quickly left my office.

Shit, fuck and damn. I was mad at myself for my reaction to his pettiness and then felt sorry for myself. I’ll never get out of this stereotype of being a secretary. Always having someone to report to. Always looking after everyone else. I was sick and tired of it. Sick and tired of looking after grown men.

I grabbed my purse and went to find Vanessa. In for a penny, in for a pound - I was taking a coffee-break. If Harold could act like a spoiled brat, so could I.

Vee was coming out of Chris Oakes’ office and I raised two fingers to my lips as if smoking. She nodded and pulled the door shut behind her. While she forwarded her phone calls back to the switchboard, I breathed deeply a few times to get my blood pressure back to normal. I was still spitting mad at Harold.

Vee and I didn’t talk as we walked quickly down the corridor to the elevator and this time she had to trot to keep up with me. I viciously punched the button for the elevator.

“Well, who pissed in your Corn Flakes?” she asked.

“Short lawyer, big attitude,” I told her. “He gave me shit for being late this morning. Perfect way to start the day.”

The line-up at the coffee shop was out the door and Vanessa grabbed a table in the smoking area while I waited in line for coffee. By the time I got to the table I was seething.

I lit a cigarette and took a deep drag and watched Vanessa struggle with the little containers of cream. Her nails were so long she couldn’t get the lids off. I grabbed them from her and peeled back the covers and poured two creams in her coffee.

“There,” I said. “Want me to drink it for you too?”

“Oh, take it easy Kate. Calm down. I thought we were on the same cycle. Is it that time of month again?” We laughed. I could never stay mad long and especially not around Vanessa. Laughter was the bond that kept us going.

“So,” I said. “I hope you enjoyed your Saturday. Mine was one straight out of a Stephen King novel. It got weirder and weirder as the day went on. I didn’t get out of here until after eleven.”

“You’re kidding. What happened? Why didn’t you call me yesterday?” she asked.

“Um. I was busy yesterday.” I wasn’t sure about talking out loud about Jay and I yet. “Saturday though,” I continued. “What a day from hell. I got a call from Harold in the afternoon to come to the office to help Grace with an audit. Then Oakes found me. After I called you and got the file he wanted he made me book a directors meeting. Then I had to get everyone on the phone for that. And then Cleveland Johnson arrived and I had to stick around in case he needed any help. Lotsa fun.”

“Stop, stop. Hang on. Let’s start at the beginning. Since when do you help Grace with audits? You’re not turning on me and joining the finance department are you?”

“Right. I’ve always aspired to be a bean-counter. And I’d do so well in the finance group. I’m such a wizard with numbers. You know what Harold always says about me. Kate, you don’t have a problem with math. You have a problem with arithmetic. He’s such a sweet and inspiring little man. Anyway, there was a problem with the stock options. A big problem. I spent about four hours with Grace going over numbers. That’s just background though. The dirt is, they’re firing Rick Cox,” I said.

Vee shook her head. “I knew it. I knew it. Oakes has been digging around for dirt on him for so long, I’m surprised he’s lasted this long. Give it to me. What happened?”

I explained to her what had happened on Saturday night.

“Didn’t Oakes tell you this morning?” I asked her.

“He’s not in.”

“Oh. I saw you coming out of his office and I just assumed he was there. So the spineless wonder isn’t going to stick around for the firing.”

I lit another cigarette from the butt of the one I was finishing and glanced at my watch. It was time to get back upstairs.

“Anyway, the worst part is Rick Cox found out about the board meeting. Oakes didn’t want any inside directors on the call and when I finished at the switchboard with the call I ran into him coming out of the kitchen. Somehow, he knew there was a board meeting. And someone on that call told him that he was being fired.”

“Probably Arthur Graves,” she said. “He’s the one who pushed so hard initially to get Rick appointed COO. He and Rick are thick as thieves.”

“Well, anyway, it gets better. Rick called Jay in to the office around nine-thirty and fired him.”

“For what?” Vanessa was incredulous. “He fired Jay? What an asshole. He can’t fire Jay. Jesus.”

“He said that he thinks Jay was the one who screwed around with the stock option system because he, Rick, never uses the system and Jay has his password.”

“Ohmigod. I can’t believe this. Have you spoken to Jay?” she asked me.

“Yeah.”

“And? What’s he going to do? He should get a lawyer. They can’t do this to him.” Vanessa always felt the worst for the underdog. She couldn’t stand to see people used and abused. Especially at the hands of Oakes and Cox.

“I think he might call Tom James and see if there’s anything he can do,” I said. “I don’t think he should hold out any hope though. Besides, he’s probably better off not here. This place is a zoo.”

BOOK: Monahan 01 Options
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