"Keep in touch"

Wednesday, September 6, 2006, 1:30pm
Steve's office

Dom agrees that the biggest hurdle between him and my job is his personal life. He has to reassure Dan that he's calmed down, but he can't be too obvious about it; otherwise it will look like he is merely saying what Dan wants to hear.

"When we talk to Dan, I'll handle it," Dom says.

At first, I thought Dan was agreeing to the phone interview as a courtesy, and that he had no intention of considering Dom for the job. But to my surprise, he pulled in three heavy hitters, including the CFO and the VP of HR, for the call.

On the call, I speak as little as possible, letting Dom take the lead, just as he would if he were in charge. Naturally, he answers every question effortlessly, having been with this company for years, and having worked closely with me on every major project I've been involved with. It's going as well as I could have expected.

"Dom," Dan says, "You do realize why Steve is leaving this job, don't you?"

"Yes."

"And you do realize that this is an extremely labor-intensive job, and will be for the foreseeable future?"

"Yes, I do."

"You might not have much of a... personal life. I need to hear how you feel about that."

This is it--the key question of the interview. If he answers this correctly, I think he'll get an offer. They'd be crazy not to offer it to Dom: There'd be no recruiter to pay for, no lengthy hiring process, no long "onboarding" period for him to get acclimated.

"Actually, I have a girlfriend now. We see each other a lot, but we don't go out much. I spend most nights at home lately."

Of course, he's full of shit. Dom doesn't have a girlfriend, at least not that he's told me about, and though he's usually on time for work, he does have the occasional 10:00am raccoon-eyed roll-in.

The line goes dead silent. This is a startling revelation for anyone familiar with Dom; it's like Diddy announcing plans to sell off his bling-bling and join the Hare Krishnas.

"A girlfriend?" Fran, the CFO, manages, finally.

"Yeah!"

"She's not an employee, is she?" Dan says, to uproarious laughter. Guess Lila wasn't as much of a secret as I thought she was.

"No, she's a physical therapist," Dom says. He had a lie ready. The man is one hell of a bullshitter.

The conversation runs long, which to me is a good sign: Why would they bother if they weren't serious about him?

Yes, I want this for Dom. Despite a rocky beginning, we work well together. He's the most qualified person I know for the position, and he's done his time with the company, even moved clear across the country for what was technically not a promotion.

"We'll try to make a decision by the end of the week," Dan says. Another good sign. If they were considering outside candidates, the process would take a lot longer than three days. I think he's got it.

"Physical therapist?" I say, after we hang up, and we laugh hysterically.

**********

Friday, September 8, 2006
Steve's office

Dan Johnson is here, which is yet another good sign. He wouldn't come all this way to turn Dom down.

"Steve, I have some bad news for you," Dan says. Dom and I exchange white-faced looks.

"W-what's that?"

"You just lost your parking spot. Dom, congratulations. You're the new district manager!"

Friday, September 29, 2006
Steve's office

My desk is empty; my phone is silent. All I hear is the steady whisper of air from the heat vent in the ceiling. The vent is directly over my head; I always meant to have it moved, but never got around to it. There are a lot of things like that.

With all the silence, I have time to think, about how it used to be, back when I liked, no loved, my job, when I sometimes spent 12 or 14 hours at my desk, getting up only to use the bathroom, when I worked weekends straight through and woke up from a dead sleep to add to my to-do list. I didn't resent the work then; I thrived on it. It reminded me that I had a purpose. That purpose is Dom's now.

Did I make a mistake? Did I commit "career suicide", as Dan called it? Was I wasting my talent?

Now that the pressure is off, I wonder if I could have made it, if I could have somehow dealt with the stress until things calmed down again. But in the end, I take a deep breath, and all I feel is relief.

"It was nice working with you," my coworkers say, awkwardly running their fingers over my doorhandle. It was "We'll miss you, Steve," and "Thanks for helping me," and "be sure to keep in touch."

But I won't keep in touch, and neither will they. They will get preoccupied with other things, and grow closer with the new boss, and my time here will fade to a distant memory. Dom will do my job, and if he leaves, someone else will take over, and the world won't come to an end. Employees will come, and they will go, like a subway train that never has the exact same group of people on it twice. I made friends here, but most were friendships of convenience; once physically separated, we'll forget each other. That's not a bad thing; just the way it is.

But I'll miss my job.

This is the company where I grew into a true professional, where I learned what a 10-K and an IPO was. I learned budgets, forecasting, and G/L accounting. From now on, I'll be able to say, "Having worked for a Fortune 500 company, I..."

"Steve?" Bonnie says. "I just want you to know it's been a pleasure working with you. You always took care of me. I appreciate that. I want to--" she pauses, looking down at the floor. "I wish you the best of luck." She hands me a small, gift-wrapped box--two tins of rasperry Altoids and a box of Chai tea, my favorites. Funny how silly things like that make me want to cry.

"Are you taking off early?" Lila says, standing in my doorway. It's around 3:30.

"Hey!" I exclaim, leaping from my chair to hug her. "I was wondering if you were going to stop by."

"We're gonna keep in touch, right?" she says, casting her huge eyes up at me. How can I say no to that?

"Definitely. Let's really stay in touch," I say. "Everyone says it, but let's really do it."

"You better," she says. "Call me this weekend, maybe we'll go on a double date."

"Okay."

"I'm really happy here. Thanks for getting me my job back, Steve."

I want to say something profound, something that you would read in a book or see in a movie. I want to dazzle her, or amaze her, or make her cry. But I can't think of anything.

"You totally earned it. You're a great employee, and you have a great future here."

"Really?"

"Absolutely."

"Are you gonna be okay at your new job? I mean, will you like it?"

"Yeah, definitely!"

4:45pm

"Dom, I won't see you Monday," I say. I'm standing in his doorway, watching as he shuffles three pages of reports and clutches the phone between his shoulder and ear, and it occurs to me that this is exactly how I always looked to him.

"I, wait, Bruce, can you hold on just a second?" he says into the phone, smiling up at me.

"It's okay, Dom, you don't have to," I laugh.

"You sure? I wanted to walk out with you."

"I know the way."

"Well, listen, I--"

"It was a lot of fun," I say. "Just... keep in touch. Okay?"

"I will."

No, he probably won't. And neither will I.

Lemons and lemonade

"I think you should call a lawyer. You should fucking sue him!"

"Tim--"

"You should call the newspaper! You should call channel five news!"

"Good idea, Tim. Let's broadcast to the world that I fucked a high-school student who was half my age. Oh yeah, and she worked for me, too!"

"You were dating!"

"I'm gonna look like a total pervert, Tim. I won't win that one."

"So you're gonna do nothing? He's blackmailing you! He's wrong! You have to fight him!"

"Tim, right or wrong doesn't matter in this case. As soon as it gets out that I was in a relationship with a girl under 18, I'll be radioactive. "

"But it was legal," she reasons.

"People are still going to think I am a perv. Whatever reputation I have left will be gone at that point."

"What did Lila say?"

"Didn't tell her."

"What?"

"You heard me."

I'm not telling Lila unless I absolutely have to. If she knew, she'd probably get pissed off and quit, and that would be a mistake. Management really likes her, and the only reason she would get fired would be for revenge--against me.

I'm glad I didn't let myself get more pissed off at Dan--the quieter I am, the more he will wonder what I know that he doesn't. But what am I going to do?

I actually go so far as to search online for an attorney before I stop myself. Do I really want to go this route? Do I really want to stand up in front of a judge and make a claim against Dan Johnson, a millionaire CEO with a spotless reputation, a claim that he is almost certainly going to deny?

Besides, even if Dan admits it, Lila won't suddenly become innocent. She still broke the rules, and she is still subject to termination. Perhaps the lawyers could arrange some kind of compromise, given Dan's ham-fisted attempt at extortion, but that would be a best-case scenario. The worst-case scenario is that Lila still gets fired, no one believes my side of the story, and my face is plastered on nursery school bulletin boards across the state.

I'm being hasty. Calling an attorney is giving up, and it's too early for that. I've known Dan for years; we've worked through complex problems together. He respects me professionally. Maybe if I prepare a solution and present it to him, he'll accept. I'll write up a business case, like I would for any other issue.

Thursday, August 31, 2006
Corporate headquarters
Dan's office

"What good news have you got for me, Steve?"

"What if you could fill my position with someone equally talented, and without having to hire an attorney to do it?"

"Attorney?"

"You knew about my relationship with Lila two years ago, and did nothing. Sounds to me like that's a pretty egregious violation of company policy."

He looks at me.

"Of course, you could say you knew nothing about it. But you'd probably have to lie under oath, and Ross would too. There would be all sorts of uncomfortable questions from lawyers and newspeople--"

"I understand, Steve."

"Your story might not pass the smell test. I give my resignation, and then you conveniently find out about my affair from two years ago? Let's face it, CEO's are not exactly the most trustworthy people in the world right now."

"No one wants a battle, Steve. None of us have the time or the energy."

"So let's find a solution."

"Fine. You know, Steve, something you said really bothered me. You said you had lost respect for me, and that you didn't think I cared about that. But I do care very much."

"With due respect, Dan, you're a Fortune 500 CEO. Your job is not to care about people. Your job is to hit revenue targets. "

"True, but that doesn't mean I don't get attached to people along the way. It doesn't mean I don't admire you and the way you make it your business to succeed."

"If you admire me, and respect me, I need you to trust my judgment and let me go, Dan."

Silence.

"I will never understand your decision as long as I live, but you know my objections, so I won't repeat them."

"Fair enough."

"What is your solution, Steve?"

"Promote Dom."

"No."

Dan has a problem with Dom. He had a chance to promote him two years ago, and he chose me instead, even though Dom had more experience. After I gave my notice, Dan had yet another chance to promote Dom, and he did not.

Dom is a natural leader, hard-working and thorough, and is more than capable of doing my job. Dan must have something personal against him; if I had to guess, i'd say it was Dom's ongoing quest to shove his dick into every warm vagina in the time zone.

"He can do the job."

"If I wanted Dom to do the job, I would have hired him."

"Why don't you want him?"

"I think he lacks dedication."

"Ridiculous. He can do the job. I've got no reason to lie. Will you at least interview him?"

"Of course."

"I will get you two more candidates as well, so you'll have three to interview," I say.

"And if I don't like any of the three?"

"I'll stay on as a consultant to help you find a replacement, even after I start my new job."

Doing two jobs might seem tough, but it would be temporary, and the workload will seem like a picnic compared to this.

"I suppose we'll have to pay for your consulting services?"

"I work cheap; I don't work free," I answer.

He sits quietly. "So what do you think?" I ask.

"You've made up your mind; what else is there to say?" he shrugs.

"So, Dan, about our phone call the other day--"

"Forget it, Steve."

I wish I could.

Fighting fair

Saturday, July 1, 2006
Steve and Tim's house

The phone rings. It's Dom.

"Hey honey!" Tim says, with a flirty lilt. She chats with him for a few minutes before holding the phone out to me.

"Is your girlfriend tired of you yet?" Dom asks before we hang up. "Tell her she knows where to find me."

"Do you have to call him 'honey'?" I ask Tim later.

"I call everyone 'honey'. I call Lila 'honey'!"

"That's a nice thought."

"Does it make you mad?"

"You had sex with him, Tim."

"You had sex with my friend right in front of me. Should I be jealous?" she spits, her voice rising sharply.

The threesome might have been a mistake. It was fun, yes, but Tim brings it up every once in a while, and not in a good way. She'll ask me why guys like that sort of thing so much, or if it bothers me that it happened.

"If you didn't want to do it--" I say, annoyed.

"I'm not saying I didn't want to do it!"

"Then what's the problem?"

"I trust you, but you still don't trust me!" she shouts.

"What does that mean, Tim? I moved you into my house. You have keys to my car. You know my ATM PIN number. What are you talking about?"

"You trust me with your money, because you know I don't care about it. You don't trust me to be faithful."

"I just don't like you flirting right in front of me. It's insulting!"

"Oh and you don't flirt with everyone!"

**********

Tim has taught me a lot about what she calls "fair fighting". She says it is normal to have fights and that fights are healthy, but there should be rules. At first, I thought it was ridiculous; who wants to be running down a list of do's and don'ts when you're screaming at each other? But actually, it is easier than I thought.

A few of the fighting rules we follow:

1. No name-calling
2. Be specific
3. No physical fighting
4. Use "I" statements rather than "you" statements when you can
5. After the fight is over, each person thinks of one thing they can do to avoid similar disagreements in the future

It may seem funny, but I am actually better at following the rules than she is. Tim usually ends up calling me a fucking asshole and throwing shoes at me, while I sit there waiting for her to calm down.

I may be better at fighting, but Tim is better at making up. No matter how angry she made me, she just sits in my lap, whispers "I'm sorry" in my ear, and I turn to mush.

"I would appreciate it if you didn't question my friendliness towards Dom or anyone else," she says. "I stopped seeing him to be with you, I moved in with you. Sometimes I feel like you don't trust me."

"I do trust you. But I also remember when you were with Dom, and you used to flirt with me right in front of him."

"Was I living with him? Was I asking to have a baby with him or get married?"

Yeah, she's brought those topics up before, but that's another story.

"No."

"Steve, I love you. So much. Please trust me."

My insides melt, and no matter how cynical I am, I can't resist her pull.

Tea Tim for two

Friday, February 18, 10:45am
Steve's office

Dom is standing in my doorway.

"Does Steph have study group tonight?"

"Of course!"

"Come out with me and Tim tonight. She keeps bugging me to introduce you."

"Where are you going?"

"Suede."

"That's way downtown. Are you driving?"

"We are, yeah."

"I think I'll take the train. What time should I be there?"

"You know, 9:00, 9:30, whatever."

**********

10:15pm
Suede (a downtown bar)

I'm dressed in sharply-creased black pants and a silk button-down shirt, with a long black overcoat.

The bar is big and roomy, with shiny tiled floors and 20-foot ceilings with spotlights pointing everywhere. I can hear the dim thud of dance music from a floor above us.

Dom is standing at the bar with his back to me; I walk towards him. I am almost there when a short, beautiful blonde steps in front of me.

"Steve?"

I nod.

"STEEEEEEEEEVE!" she shreiks, and proceeds to hug me. It's a full-body hug: Thighs against thighs, stomach against stomach, shoulders against shoulders. Her tits press against my chest, thick and plump and BIG. I am instantly hard.

I am overwhelmed by the heavy, sexy scent of perfume; Tommy Girl, I think. I put my hands around her waist; her skin is soft and supple, her back taut and toned. I like the idea that my arms go almost all the way around her body, as if I could pick her up and carry her away.

"It's so great to finally MEET you!" She pulls back, looking up at me. I take a good look at her, and I'm suddenly short of breath.

The words most beautiful girl I have ever seen involuntarily cross my mind, like a slogan that flashes on the TV screen as I channel surf. She is truly gorgeous: Her hair is long and thick, and well past her shoulders; her eyes are big and round and the color of... denim, beset by impossibly long lashes. Her smile is wide and happy, exposing two rows of flawless teeth.

This girl is not human. She's too perfect. She's a cartoon, a picture drawn by a horny 15-year-old boy in the back row of anatomy class. Her hair looks like a shampoo ad; her skin like a Noxema ad; her teeth like a toothpaste ad.

"Nice to... meet you," I manage, staring at her.

"Sit down!" She guides me by the wrist to a bar stool, then spreads my legs apart and bumps her curvy hips between them and against the seat. She's wearing tight black pants and a midriff-exposing shirt which dangles droolingly, far in front of her abdomen.

Dom comes back with the drinks. He smiles, and without a word he places a vodka and tonic in front of me.

"I would introduce you, but it looks like you two already know each other."

"Why didn't you tell me he was so CUTE?" Tim says.

"Ah boy, here we go," Dom says, rolling his eyes. "I told you how he is with the ladies."

She picks up the toothpick from her martini and gently grabs the olive with her teeth. As she slides the toothpick back out, it slips from her hand and lands right in her cleavage.

All eyes go to her breasts. Without skipping a beat, she reaches down and grabs the toothpick and puts it back into her glass. "It's ok, they're real. They won't deflate," she says. Dom and I burst out laughing.

"You told me how he WAS with the girls," Tim says, staring at me. "Now he's got a ball and chain!"

"I have to tell you, I am really happy to have a ball and chain like her."

"I think that is SO hot," she says, rolling her eyes.

"What is?"

"That you're so capable of commitment."

"Why? You don't want a boyfriend," Dom says.

"That doesn't mean I can't admire Steve!" She leans in closer, tilting her chin up at me. For a crazy moment, I think she's going to kiss me.

"I think Dom is jealous of you," she whispers. A puff of her breath hits my face, clean and hot.

"Tim, come on! Don't be silly!"

"He sees how happy you are, and I think he wants that for himself. You're actually a good influence on him!"

"I doubt it."

"He talks about you a lot. I feel like I know you."

"Really?"

"MM-hmmm," she nods.

I look over at Dom. He's talking to another blonde.

Dom is no slouch. I can't imagine him getting jealous over Tim talking to me, or over anything. He's way too cool for that. The most he'll do is what he's doing now: Show us, without words, that he can have a good time without us. I have to admit, Dom is probably the most suave person I know.

Tim appears to have forgotten Dom is here. She's staring attentively up at me as if we were on our first date. I'm beginning to think she's hitting on me.

Some girls play games. I know that. Sometimes they like to pit one friend against another to spark jealousy. But I get the impression that Tim is really serious, that I could nail her if I wanted to. I never would, of course, but she seems very willing...

We talk for an hour. Tim wants to know all about Lila, about my weight loss, and about Mary Ann, the girl who took my virginity. She presses me for every last detail: What position (her on top), was I able to hold out very long (about five minutes), did I ever sleep with her again (yes).

Her face goes serious as her eyes look down at the floor. "Interesting," she says, biting the inside of her bottom lip. Is she getting turned on?

Dom goes back to the bar. I haven't talked to him all night.

"So when do I get to meet Stephanie?"

"Whenever you want!"

"Let's have a double date!"

"If we do, just don't hug me like you did before."

She grins hugely, her eyes tipsy and glazed over. "You got a hard-on, didn't you? When I hugged you?"

Shit, that's embarrassing. But I recover quickly. "You see what you do to me?"

"Just WAIT until you see what I do to you," she coos. I am hard again. Yeah, she definitely wants to fuck me.

Dom comes back with the drinks. "Finally!" Tim says. "You took so long, Steve and I almost ran out to the car for a quickie!"

Dom and I laugh. "You two looked like you were having one on the bar stool already!" he says.

"I'm sorry babe, he's just too hot," Tim says, patting the inside of my thigh without looking, maybe two inches from paydirt. "We wanna have a double date!"

"Sure you can keep your hands off him?"

"Yeah, but not my feet," Tim says, winking.

Around 1:00, we go upstairs to listen to some music. Tim continues talking to me, though she has to shout in my ear to do it.

2:00. A slow song comes on--the DJ's subtle way of telling us to get the hell out.

"Dance with me," Tim says.

"Tim, you're here with Dom--"

"It's fine," she says, staring at me with her big blue eyes.

No way I can say no to that.