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“Grant, c’mon. At least give me an interview. You know I could do the job with my eyes closed.”
“I’m sorry, Ron. I just can’t. Our human resources officer will never approve your hire after what happened.”
The phone screen felt hot and damp with perspiration as it rested against my ear and cheek. From heavy usage or the blood heating my skin Or both. I needed a break.
Two days straight of this, and nothing. I’m running out of leads.
“Ok, Grant. Well, if you hear of anything...”
“Ron, you know I will. Whoever gets you will be lucky to have you. I wish I didn’t have corporate hoops to jump through. I would hire you in a split second.”
“Thanks for that. Well, gotta go. More calls to make.”
“Good luck, Ron.”
A crumpled wad hit the floor, joining a growing collection of others already lying there. I set the phone down on the desk, leaned back in my chair, ran my fingers through my hair, and sighed.
What am I going to do?
I stood and stretched. A little lamp illuminated only the surface of my small desk. The darkness of the room enveloped me from behind. I turned and opened the door, letting the natural light of the rest of my apartment spill in. My eyes squinted.
How long have I been in there?
Looking at my watch, I shook my head and rubbed my face with my hand.
6 hours.
I walked into the kitchen. My heart hung like a brick inside my chest as I looked around at the cabinets and appliances.
I really liked this place.
My head fell, and I closed my eyes. I took a deep breath in and out.
A door will open. It has to. You just have to keep knocking.
Another deep breath. And another. My chest and stomach rose and fell with my breathing. The stretch across my expanding chest pulled my attention from the flurry of my anxious thoughts. My shoulders relaxed and fell.
Remember who you are.
I lifted my head, opened my eyes, and pushed with my eyes out into the space in front of me.
“I’m a Stroker.”
The sound of ringing and vibrating came from my office. I flipped around and darted into the office to grab it.
“Hello?”
“May I speak to Ron Stroker?”
“This is Ron.”
“Ron, I’ve heard a rumor that you might be in the market for a new opportunity. I’d like to talk to you about that, but I’d rather not do it on the phone. Are you available this afternoon?”
“Yessir, I am. Who am I speaking with?”
“This is Sam Wright from Apex Insurance Corp”
I bent over and mouthed, “oh my god,” as I held the phone away from my head. My heart raced as I pulled the phone back to my face.
“Wait, as in THE Sam Wright? The CEO of Apex?”
The man chuckled.
“That’s what they say. I can have a car at your place in 15 minutes if you’re available now.”
“I can make that happen, sir. I look forward to meeting with you.”
“Great. I look forward to meeting you, too, Ron. Talk to you soon.”
I hung up and held the phone to my forehead.
“Oh, my God!”
A smile erupted from deep in my chest and exploded onto my face.
“I’m going to meet Sam Wright. Shit! I’ve got to get ready!”
My socked feet slipped as I rounded the corner, racing into the bathroom. My hands dove into the sink and splashed water on my face, then grabbed for my comb. It ran through my hair several times as I reached for my toothbrush. My mind raced as my hands continued grooming on accelerated autopilot.
How did he find me? What is he doing here? Apex isn’t in Los Angeles.
I shook my head as my toothbrush rammed in and out of my mouth.
One of the few cities they aren’t in.
Fifteen minutes sped by like fifteen seconds, but I managed to make myself presentable by the time the doorbell rang. I took a deep breath as I opened the door. A tall man in a black suit greeted me.
“Ron Stroker?”
“That’s me.”
“Come with me, please.”
A sleek, black stretch limo sat parked on the curb in front of my apartment. My lips tightened to keep my mouth from gaping. The tall man opened the door at the back and gestured for me to get in. I climbed into the limousine and saw a familiar face.
“Mr. Wright?”
He reached out from his seated position and offered his hand. An expensive-looking dress watch peeked out from the crisp white cuff of his shirt. I took his hand, and he gripped mine. My chest caved in, starving for air.
“Glad you could meet on such short notice, Ron.”
My heart pounded so hard, its beat reached up into my temples.
“Sir, I would have cleared my schedule if I had to for a chance to meet you. I’ve followed your career for over a decade. I’ve even gotten to be in the audience for several of your presentations. I’m a huge fan.”
He waved his hand, brushing at the air.
“Oh, I’m not that impressive. Guys like you do that hard work.”
I tilted my head forward and spoke with an emphatic tone.
“I’ve learned a lot from following you, sir.”
“Please, call me Sam.”
I shook my head, smirking.
“I’ll try.”
He chuckled.
“So, I hear you left Solidarity.”
How does he even know about Solidarity? They are such a small fish in his ocean.
“Uh, yessir, I did.”
“You mean, ‘yes, Sam’.”
I laughed.
“That will take some getting used to. Um, yes, Sam. My last day was three days ago.”
“Now, Solidarity. That’s an interesting little company. Did you know you can learn a lot about a company by what’s in their trash?”
“Their trash?”
He grinned.
“Yes, Ron. Their trash.”
He reached behind him and pulled out a book. My book. The Standard Operating Procedures manual that I authored looked tattered and stained from who knows what garbage, but in his hand, cleaned up as much as possible.
“Ron, this is one of the best procedural manuals I’ve ever seen. You know what else I learned from their trash? They’re not following your manual very well.”
I nodded and chuckled.
“No, Sam, they’re not.”
“Did you know they’re about 12 months away from filing bankruptcy?”
“That’s not possible. I see all the numbers.”
“Ah, but you don’t. Apparently, some management - such as your former supervisor - have been doing some creative things on the side. My people found all the statements in the trash. Ripped in half, but not shredded. Shredding was on page 127 in your manual.”
He smirked.
“I guess they didn’t get that far.”
“I’m thorough, Sam, but I never would’ve thought to look in our trash. That’s smart.”
Sam cocked an eyebrow, grinning, as he tapped a finger to his temple.
“So, Ron, here’s the thing. At Apex, I have a dashboard. All my people use it to report if they receive recommendations or referrals from any of their contacts. It could be a recommendation of a vendor who provides services we need. It could be a professional in our industry who has talent we need. I use that board to help identify resources our company needs to look at more closely.”
I curled my lips, looking to the side.
I could learn so much from this guy.
“That’s brilliant.”
“It really is. Wasn’t my idea. One of my people came up with it. And, I’ve scored some of my biggest staffing and resourcing discoveries using it, but in the last 5 years of using that board, it never lit up around a single person the way it has in the last two days.”
My eyes widened.
“Wow, do you mind me asking who caused that?”
He laughed.
“You know, Ron, I know you’re not dumb, but you’re too modest. You don’t know your worth. Apparently, Solidarity didn’t know it either. But, your industry colleagues do. And, I do, too.”
I swallowed hard.
“Sam, I don’t understand.”
“Ron, you lit my board up.”
“I did?”
His eyes sparkled as he grinned.
“Yes, Ron. So, I’ll cut to the chase. I’m moving the headquarters of my western division to Los Angeles. We want to strengthen our presence in California, and I need a new Director of Accounting. Normally, I’d promote from within for a director position, but you’re an unusual opportunity I don’t want to miss.”
I fell back into the cushioned back of my seat, shaking my head in disbelief.
“Based on my research, I’d estimate you’d start at triple your previous salary. It involves travel, all expenses paid, first class always. We have best-in-class benefits. I understand you enjoy punching bags.”
I put a hand up to cover my opening mouth.
“You don’t like punching bags?”
I grinned and let my hand fall to the side of my face.
“No, I love punching bags.”
“Good, you’ll have one in your office.”
I laughed.
“I don’t know what to say.”
“Well, how about ‘Yes, Sam, I accept your offer’?”
The light in my eyes brightened and then faded. I thought about my arrest, and my face fell.
“There’s a problem. I’ve had some recent trouble.”
“I know about that, Ron. No worries. I have expensive lawyers who can make all that go away. So, what’s your answer?”
He extended his hand. My heart pounded as I looked at it.
Can this really be happening?
I took it.
“Yes, Sam. I definitely accept your offer.”
