Chapter Seven
Another six inches of snow fell overnight — a fine powdery snow, the kind that blows about easily and piles rapidly into drifts. But it was not enough to stop the city. In fact, there were very few school closings despite the severity and timing of the storm and the extremely cold temperatures. Unfortunately for Danny though, traffic was going to be snarled miserably for the second time in five days. He thought about skipping work altogether but couldn’t come up with a suitable excuse, especially since the storm had already passed over Michigan and pushed off to the east, setting its sights on Cleveland and Buffalo. So instead of sleeping in, Danny showered, dressed and prepared for another long drive to the office.
After giving his car a moment to warm up, he drove out of the garage onto the thick blanket of white, packing it down under his tires. He couldn’t afford the time to shovel; that job would have to keep until evening. Another mandatory inconvenience, he thought.
He imagined that somewhere, it wasn’t snowing. Somewhere, there was a warm beach with a gentle breeze and a blazing sun. He thought again of California and of Julie.
On the freeway, the heavy overnight accumulation had been scraped, salted, and compacted down to an icy glaze. Overall, it took Danny an hour-and-a-half to get to work — a seventeen mile drive from his home, a distance that took thirty-five minutes to cover on a normal day. Luckily though, he arrived at Base Line on time, having only considered the use of a hand gesture twice in response to moronic driving by other storm-frantic commuters.
Monday was the day for his weekly staff meeting. A year ago, immediately upon notifying him of his promotion, Vic DeSalvo suggested that Danny develop the habit of meeting with his people first thing on Monday mornings. People needed to get their marching orders for the week, he said. Owing to three years in the U.S.M.C., Vic could find a military analogy to fit every circumstance and situation. “How goes the war?” was one of his favorites. Danny would usually respond with something like, “I think we’re winning, just don’t look at the carnage.” Like any other Marine, Vic would not be upset by the use of the word carnage. Carnage is a necessary by-product of any military campaign, and a clear indication that progress is being made. Anyway, it did not take Danny long to realize that Vic’s suggestions were not really suggestions at all; they were more like orders. If they were left unheeded, Vic would turn sullen and hypercritical. But once Danny carried out the “suggestion,” Vic would revert to his old, back slapping self.
So, for a year now, every Monday morning at eight-thirty the Base Line Technologies recruiting team would gather in the sixth floor conference room with a pot of fresh coffee and a box of doughnuts, ostensibly to put together a battle plan for the week. And, in spite of the snow, they were all present this morning: Randy Stone, Gillian Newell, Steve Pettis, Carly Franklin and of course, Danny Predmore, the manager — though none of them looked very happy about it.
The conversation propelled itself immediately toward the exchange of horror stories about the morning drive. Danny listened tacitly for a few minutes before interjecting his own remarks. His primary aim was to shift the focus toward his small talk topic of the daythe outcome of yesterday’s NFL Conference Championship games. Randy and Steve were quick to offer commentary but Gillian and Carly remained mute on the subject, seemingly annoyed with sports gibberish, with football specifically, and especially with all the end-of-the-season hype. The upcoming Super Bowl served as the perfect case in point — a huge, overblown contest involving steroid-pumped titans that never seemed to live up to expectations or predictions.
“Sure, I watch the Super Bowl,” Carly said finally, in response to a loaded question from Steve, “but just for the commercials.”
“Yeah,” Gillian agreed, laughing, “and the half time show.”
“See, there’s something for everyone,” Steve commented. “It’s a real family affair.”
While munching a honey stick, Danny switched over to the meeting agenda, beginning with a run down of the Open Orders Report he had generated on Friday.
“These orders are really beginning to pile up,” he said, ascetically. “And with the current demand for resources, we had better come up with some new and creative ways to find candidates, or we’re going to miss our plan by a mile. It’s obvious that what we’ve been doing isn’t enough.”
There was a momentary pause as each of the recruiters mulled over Danny’s admonition and wondered whether the lecture would continue.
Randy spoke first. “What about that national recruiting seminar I told you about a few weeks ago? Maybe a couple of us should go.”
“I guess I’m willing to consider it. But Vic will never spring for sending two of us out of town with so many openings to fill, though he might possibly agree to airfare and accommodations for one. Where did you say the seminar was being held, Randy?”
“Let’s see, I have the flyer here someplace...” He rifled through a small stack of papers. “Here it is. It’s in Anaheim. It begins two weeks from today.”
“Let me have a look at that,” Danny said.
“Just for the record, I volunteer,” Steve said.
“Me too,” Randy added.
“I’ll check with Vic first,” Danny said, still perusing the brochure. “But I think I might want to do this one myself.”
The meeting proceeded along the usual format. The team discussed the job orders, one at a time, reviewing them for merit and viability and then comparing them to the candidates in the recruiters’ hiring queue. As it stood, there were twenty-seven open orders, at least fifteen of which Danny judged as legitimate. Correspondingly, they had about twenty candidates in their queue, but only about a dozen of them looked like they could be Base Line material.
One of the new candidates had been screened and interviewed by Steve Pettis. Her skills were light, and she had only a little more than a year’s experience. Steve put her on his hire list anyway. When challenged by Danny as to why Base Line should hire another “lightweight,” Steve said, “Trust me, she’ll be able to get through any interview.”
“Meaning what?” Gillian quipped.
“Meaning she has heavy sex appeal, I’m sure,” Carly said with pointed disgust, before adding, “We all know what sells in this business.”
“Look,” Steve replied, “I’m not trying to start a war between the sexes. But we’d be foolish to pass this one up.”
“Okay,” Danny said. “Bring her on board. That will be six for the month so far.”
“So then, if I want my career to take off, I guess I should go out and buy some sweaters and tight skirts,” Gillian remarked, ruefully.
“I’m for that idea,” Randy said.
“Me too,” Steve added.
“All right, that’s enough of that,” Danny said. “We all know what this business is about. There’s no point in denying the obvious or trying to convince our customers to hire bridge trolls and the like. We’re going to keep hiring candidates that sell technically and otherwise.”
“Even if it sets back the cause of women thirty years,” Carly said.
Danny shot her a look.
“Just kidding,” she said.
They continued grinding through their weekly tasks. As for matching candidates’ skills against the open orders — well, if the team managed to get a 100% offer-to-hire ratio this week (which never happened, of course; 60% was a more realistic number), they would still only be able to fill five of their current orders. Vic would not be happy. In fact, if this were the Marine Corps, Danny might be facing a court martial for dereliction of duty.
After they disbanded, Danny immediately called the company’s outside travel agency to inquire about flights and accommodations for the Anaheim seminar. He had more than one reason for wanting to attend.
Judy Brown at the agency asked Danny to hang on while she checked her system. Danny pressed the speaker button on his phone and began reading the lead article in the morning paper headlined: “Winter Woes Continue.” Judy clicked away audibly, punching up flight information on her computer terminal.
“If I send you out on Sunday night with a return on Thursday morning the fare will be $745 with a connection in Chicago, but if you go out a day earlier, on Saturday, I can put you on a non-stop for $438, but that’s the best I’ve got with the Super Bowl in San Diego and all.”
The article on the weather got Danny to thinking. “What if I decided to stay a few extra days and return on the following Saturday or Sunday?”
“Let’s look at that...(clickety click, click)…Well, the fare won’t change but...Yup, there are seats available on both days.”
“Tell you what,” Danny said. “Put me on the Saturday flight, returning on Sunday the following weekend. If you can hold that until this afternoon, I’ll call you back with a confirmation.”
“Sure thing. I can hold the seats for twenty-four hours.”
“That’ll be perfect. Thanks Judy. I’ll call you later.”
Danny put together a profile of costs and wrote up a couple of paragraphs to justify his attendance at the seminar. Actually the title of the conference said it all: “Creative Recruiting in Today’s Tough Skills Market” — Annual Conference of the National Association of Professional Recruiters (NAPR). Vic would probably not even give this request a second thought before signing it, especially since Danny was saving the company almost $350 on the airfare. He would put in for a couple days vacation for the Thursday and Friday following the seminar and see about enjoying himself in Southern California. The weather was bound to be better there than here. Not Aruba exactly, but several degrees warmer than the Motor City.
He wondered whether he should let Julie know he was coming or surprise her by just showing up. But then he realized that he was getting a little ahead of himself.
He picked up the phone and called downstairs to Peninsula Title.
“Hello, is Valerie in?”
“A storm system churning over the Great Basin will continue to draw Pacific moisture inland for the next couple of days, pulling one cold front through the Southland today and another on Tuesday. Mostly cloudy, cool, and breezy conditions will prevail today with a good possibility of rain, especially along the coast. Highs will be in the fifties, the low around forty. Currently, it is forty-eight and cloudy in Los Angeles, forty-six and raining in Long Beach...”
Julie snapped off the radio and climbed out of bed. She put on the coffee and then started into her stretching routine. Today, she would dress in her weatherproof jogging outfit and brave the elements. Running in the rain was not something she relished. But she had come to realize that very little about adult life was fun and games. To get what she wanted out of life, she would have to continue working hard and sacrificing, pushing her pleasure-seeking impulse down every time she felt it bubbling up and attempting to control her.
The week ahead would be tough; she would be learning her new job in marketing. No doubt there would be some resentment from the other two girls who were passed over for Allison’s position. Jenna and Christy had seniority over her, but they were both young and somewhat immature, and in Julie’s opinion, not as dedicated. She also had to finish her “quality of life” paper for Thursday’s sociology class and had about a hundred pages to read in her business ethics textbook before tomorrow night.
As she bounced out the back door and began her run, her thoughts turned immediately toward Danny. The reflection was bittersweet. In spite of the fact that her own pride prevented her from accepting alimony from him, he was still to blame for her having to struggle financially at a time in life when money woes should be far behind her. But, rather ironically, he was also the reason why she was doing well on several other fronts. Were it not for the divorce, she may never have been inspired to enroll in school or get herself back into top physical condition. And, if she were still in Michigan, still married to Danny, she would probably not have a similar career opportunity blossoming before her like the one at SunBurst. And certainly, she would not be back here in her beloved California homeland. Rain or no rain, this was still heaven to her, and she was finally free from the oppressive winters of the mid-west. Twenty-five years there taught her how to appreciate a January day with the temperature in the forties. Consequently, winter in the Southland did not faze her one little bit.
Julie ran onto the beach and directly into an east wind. The cold, steady drizzle stung her face and she squinted to protect her eyes. Droplets cascaded down into her mouth as she breathed in and out with the rhythm of her pace. Exhaling, she sprayed the water out in front of her again. There wasn’t another soul on the beach as far down the coast as she could see. Not the kind of morning which drew the natives out of their warm beds to comb the sand for shells or to cast a fishing line into the on-coming tide. Even the ubiquitous beach boys slept-in on days like this. But Julie was enjoying herself. She had command of her habits; she’d become the master of the routine.
Gulls stood motionless in the surf as she ran by. Lights from the fishing wharf twinkled in her rain-dampened vision. Julie etched it all into her memory.
Before retiring last night, she sent Danny a return e-mail. Having read his letter earlier, she wondered whether to respond immediately or to sleep on the idea to better formulate her thoughts before writing him back. But, after spending the remainder of the afternoon unable to get both him and his words off her mind, the decision came easily.
Now, she wondered if Danny would be surprised to hear back from her so soon, and whether he had already opened his mail and read her note. It was nine o’clock back east; his workday would have begun by now.
Then she thought about Mike Tattersall. He said he would not be in the office until Friday. By then she hoped to be able to impress him with how quickly she was adapting to her new job. Being honest with herself, she realized how desperately she wanted to impress Mike. He was, after all, her boss. But she also feared that the more she succeeded in impressing him, the more he might want from her, especially in areas where she felt both vulnerable and reticent. This paradox put her into a state of internal conflict, the product of which she envisioned as an emotional tug-of-war with her boss. He should not be drawing upon her emotions at all, she realized, pitying herself for the entanglements she could see one week into the future. Things between the two of them should be kept strictly professional. Anything else could rightly be construed as manipulation or harassment. She believed that, being such a business guru, Mike must know as much. So why was she worrying? Why did she keep thinking that he had already crept over the line with that kiss on the cheek in the Bistro 201 parking lot?
It was her nature; that’s why. She was a worrier — always had been. But the solution to these worries was simple, or so she theorized. No matter what Mike said or did, she would simply remind him of his promise to keep things on a business level. She’d control him if she had to — something she was quite capable of doing. And this morning, dripping from the liquid California winter, she strengthened her resolve to do just that.
Valerie had promised to meet Danny at the main building entrance at noon. She had said on the phone that it was nice to hear from him, and, no, she didn’t have lunch plans. It was two minutes past twelve when she walked off the elevator, none too soon either because Danny was beginning to feel a little anxious standing around, waiting for a girl half his age to join him for lunch, his stomach churning at least as much over seeing her again as from a case of noontime hunger.
“Hi, Danny.” She greeted him with a handshake, then continued bundling herself to keep out the cold. Visible below the hem of her coat were charcoal-colored slacks and ankle-length boots. Her hair was exquisite, just as Danny had remembered. He wished he could touch it without upsetting her or putting her off their budding friendship.
“Good to see you again,” he said, smiling at her.
“Thanks. You too.”
They walked to his car, making small talk across the frozen parking lot. Danny opened the passenger door for her, waited while she adjusted herself on the seat, and then closed the door gently. As he rounded the vehicle he was thinking about how he had already elevated Valerie onto some sort of “goddess” pedestal, a place he normally reserved for women he felt obliged to impress. After firing up the engine, he drove off in the direction of the nearby Chinese restaurant where he was certain Valerie could get a good vegetarian lunch.
They ordered their meals, and Danny admitted to taking Valerie’s advice from last week. “You’ll be glad to hear that I sent an e-mail to Julie over the weekend.”
“Really? That’s great. What’d you say to her, or is that too nosy of me to ask?”
“No, I don’t mind. For some reason I feel like I can trust you.”
“Well...?”
“I don’t know...I guess the main thing was that I told her I was sorry for the way things turned out and that maybe we could be friends again.” He hoped he hadn’t tipped his hand too much.
“Good for you, Danny. I believe confession and forgiveness are two of the keys to success in life. You’ll be glad you did what you did. Just wait and see.”
Fortunately for him, she left it there.
Danny changed the subject. “So what did you do for the weekend?”
“Nothing much, really. I started a new book called: ‘Marriage — the Ultimate Sacrifice.’ It’s all about losing one’s unique, personal identity through the marriage union in return for becoming a part of a whole new being. The implication is that men and women aren’t complete until they’re joined together as couples.”
“Well, that sounds pretty deep to me — and strictly theoretical. I’m here to tell you from experience that it’s not as simple as all that.” Danny didn’t mean to challenge her beliefs, but he felt inspired to express his own opinion on the topic of marriage. After all, he was the one with the painful experience of having made the “ultimate sacrifice.”
Unmoved by his remark, she displayed a comforting smile and replied, “Well, you would know better, I’m sure. But one thing I am beginning to understand is that, as a woman, I am not the complete expression of the species. I think God meant for man and woman to be married so that we humans could be a more complete representation of Him. See, I believe He is both male and female, the best of both genders.”
Danny pursed his lips and wrinkled up his brow as he considered Valerie’s theory. After a moment’s thought, then, he responded. “Well, I’ve never looked at it that way before, but I suppose it makes sense. Still, how do you explain all the bad marriages and the rising divorce rate? I mean, if you judge by the current state of affairs, God’s nature, as you describe it, is not being represented very well.”
“No, it’s not, and that’s a real shame. But you can’t blame God for our failures. It’s really our fault, see, the fault of our evil natures. We are all so self-centered, and that’s why there are so many bad marriages and divorces — so this book says anyway.”
Their lunches arrived, and Danny secretly welcomed the interruption. Valerie’s remarks, however theoretical or academically derived, had begun hitting him a little too close to home. He sliced into his egg roll and left it to cool. Valerie began sampling veggies from her plate, one at a time. Danny poured two little cups of tea from a stainless steel pot the waitress left for them, and then started in on his lunch.
Valerie broke the silence. “So, what did you do all weekend, besides writing e-mail, that is?”
“Well, Saturday was my birthday.”
“Really? Happy birthday, then. Which one was it, or shouldn’t I ask that?”
“No, it’s okay,” Danny replied, realizing that he’d have to tell her his age sometime, and this seemed as good a time as any. “It was my forty-second.”
“What did you do to celebrate?”
“Nothing really. I’m getting too old to celebrate birthdays. You’ll know what I mean in a few year’s time.”
“Come on, you’re not so old. What is age anyway? To me, it’s not a very good measure of a person.”
“I’m glad you feel that way,” Danny said, once again amazed at the maturity displayed by his young friend. This was an opportune moment, he realized. “So you’re not embarrassed to be seen with me then?”
“No. Why should I be?”
“You shouldn’t, of course. But our age difference...you know...”
“Well, it’s not like we’re dating or anything, so I don’t see the big deal. It doesn’t bother you, does it?”
“No,” he replied, smiling. “I’m definitely not bothered. You can be seen with me anytime.” But deep down inside, Danny’s heart sank. Valerie obviously lacked the desire to move their relationship beyond the realm of friendship. This realization, painful as it was, startled him back to reality. However difficult, considering the female-shaped void in his present thought life, Danny now knew he had to stop fantasizing about Valerie Robinson and what role she could potentially play in his life. He also sensed something that should have been self-evident when they first met last week — desiring Valerie could only serve to frustrate him beyond his current state of exasperation where relationships, love, and sex were concerned.
He drank some tea before continuing with the conversation. Having settled in his mind that Valerie would not be a future conquest, Danny suddenly felt at ease with her. For the remainder of the lunch, he spoke openly, revealing much more about himself than he had with anyone else in recent memory. Then, as they headed back to their separate jobs, he felt like a load had been lifted from his shoulders. Valerie had become his confidant and he liked her especially well in that role.