“Fuck ’em,” Jay said. “You don’t need them anyway.”
“I need this job, Jay.” The running water was turned off on the other end. Michelle sounded fully awake now. “I’ve got a shit load of debt, a mortgage, car payments, I can’t afford to have this job taken away from me now.”
“So get another one,” Jay said. “If they treat you that way, they don’t deserve you.”
“Easy for you to say,” Michelle said. “But my career is depending on this gig. If I can pull this consulting gig off, I’ll be fine. They need me here.”
“They don’t need you!” Jay protested.
“Look, I gotta go,” Michelle said. “I’ll call later today when the meeting is over. Okay?”
“Be careful, Michelle,” Donald said.
“I will, and I love you.” Michelle hung up.
Donald replaced the phone on the cradle, a tinge of worry running through his system. There was something Michelle said that bothered him. He was thinking about the conversation, replaying it in his mind, when Jay returned from the master bedroom. He looked shocked; his dark eyes were wide, his features suggesting he’d just seen or heard the impossible. “What was that all about? The chick I met Monday night would not have put up with that kind of corporate bullshit!”
“You’re right,” Donald said. The woman he’d met three years ago and fell in love with would not have put up with that kind of intimidation. Three months after they began dating, Michelle was fired from a consulting gig for refusing to be intimidated by an executive who stormed into her cubicle at the job she was working at and began loudly verbally abusing her. The executive had demanded she fix something, make something work that she had no power over, and when she tried explaining to him that this part of the project wasn’t within her scope but that she’d get to the folks who handled it to correct the problem, he wouldn’t take that as an answer. “Fix it now!” He’d thundered, standing over her.
“Would you please lower your voice?” Michelle had asked politely.
“What? Are you telling me to lower my voice? Do you know who I am?”
“I’m telling you to lower your voice because you’re harassing me. Please calm down and—”
“You will do what I say, when I say it. You will fix this problem and—”
“If you’ll just explain to me what you need fixed, I can help you!” Michelle had no idea what the man needed fixed. She’d heard through the grapevine that he was a prima donna, that the decisions he made were based on half-truths, greed, ego, and were not for the betterment of the company as a whole. She also knew he was completely unsuited for his position after he sat in on several meetings at which she was present. He had no grasp of the concepts they were addressing, no firm grounding in the industry he was working in (multimedia), and continually got things mixed up when it came to Michelle’s role and that of her fellow consultants; if she was part of Pomeroy consulting, she must know what Delloite and Touche were doing, who were also part of this project. They were all consultants, right? Not so.
“How goddamned stupid are you?” The exec snarled. By then, everybody in the surrounding cubicles had grown silent as they listened. “How the hell did you get this job? You are the stupidest bitch I’ve ever—”
“Don’t talk to me like that!”
“I can talk to you anyway I damned well feel like!” The man leaned over her menacingly. Michelle told Donald later that when he leaned close to her she’d actually felt a rise of fear. “I run this show, and I will do whatever the hell I want!”
“You’re harassing me! Stop it!”
“You want to see harassment? I’ll show you harassment! Come to my office, and I’ll give you a—”
“Get out of my cubicle!” Michelle yelled.
“You don’t talk to me like that, bitch!” The exec had spat. “You’ve just fucked with the wrong person and I’m going to see to it that you’re out of here!”
And when the corporate suit said that, Michelle related later that she felt this irresistible urge she couldn’t suppress. “As long as you’re going to fire me, I have a message for you.” The exec stopped, glared at her, and Michelle raised her right hand, middle finger extended. “Fuck you!”
She was dismissed from Pomeroy the next day—with a generous severance package that was their way of saying, we know that should you wish to pursue legal action against us and/or our client for workplace harassment you’d have a strong case; we want to avoid a costly trial so please… accept this gift and we’ll consider the matter closed.
Michelle had taken the offer. It was close to a year’s salary with her benefits. Had she refused, she would have received nothing and would have had to pay out of pocket for a lawsuit as well as find another job.
The feisty, no-nonsense, smart woman who held her ground, who didn’t take shit from the corporate bully was the woman Donald Beck knew and loved.
Not this tired, almost apologetic woman who claimed that her company needed her all of a sudden.
That bothered Donald. He turned to Jay. “I think you have something there. I don’t want to jump to conclusions, but—”
Jay didn’t say anything. Donald read the thought in his eyes. They’re getting to her.
CHAPTER NINE
MEL HOWARD WAS sitting in the comfortable book-lined study of his home in Highland Ranch, Colorado that he shared with his wife, going through his accounting records for his new online book-selling business, when the doorbell rang.
Mel saved the excel file he was working on and rose to his feet. He stretched. He’d gotten up at eight a.m. this morning, made a pot of coffee, than gone right to work. He operated an online bookstore called Mel’s Books, and he specialized in used and new books, mostly genre fiction, but some non-fiction titles too, mostly true-crime related. He’d been dabbling in it off and on since he discovered eBay seven years ago, and last October Sue said, “You’re doing well enough on eBay and you find enough good stuff at all the flea markets we go to; why not open up an internet storefront?”
So he did.
It was tough starting out, and the business was beginning not only to pay for itself, it was showing a small profit. Sue was able to quit her job so she could take care of their son and daughter when they came home from school, and she used the time the kids were away to pack and ship orders. When Mel came home from his job as a Salesman for Wiedenhammer Products in Littleton, he devoted a few hours a night to the business. He also devoted weekends to it. Business was doing well; he offered free shipping on all orders, discounted new books, and supplied brodart bindings with all hardcovers. He was becoming one of the major independent internet booksellers without a brick and mortar presence.
Mel walked on stocking feet through the hallway to the living room. The kids were at soccer games this morning, which Sue had taken them to. Mel was going to take care of some business this morning—update the online databases, pack and ship some orders, pay some bills—and then he was done for the weekend. They had plans to spend the afternoon with Sue’s parents and go out to dinner that night at a local steakhouse.
In short, he was looking forward to this weekend.
When he opened the door he was surprised to see Mary Barnhill and Jim Fern, Human Resource Representatives from his employer, Wiedenhammer Products. They were flanked by two big burly guys he’d never seen before, dressed in suits. “Hey!” Mel said. “What brings you here?”