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    Topher Lydon
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Carter's Duty - 12. Chapter 12

"You had nothing to be jealous over." Andrew said softly.

Will stopped in telling his story to stare at Andrew, "Didn't I?" he asked seriously, "you don't know what I went through the next day."

Andrew sighed as he flagged down the stewardess and asked her for a refill on the coffees. Brody was snoring fitfully in the aisle seat, somehow managing to sleep on the flight. Andrew envied him that, he was too nervous, too wound up and one glance at Will told him that there was more.

"Ok, what did you go through?" he asked quietly.

* * *

It hurt. He bounced another screwed-up paper ball off of the wall of his office, only to have it miss the garbage can by a good foot. Not that he was paying much attention since his gaze was focused on a little patch of green on the lawn outside his office window. He stared vacantly at the lawn, wondering why his company even bothered with the feeble attempt at landscaping. It wasn't as if the clients or the customers would ever see it. They could run the entire operation out of a basement somewhere and no one would be any the wiser; why care so long as money was being extorted from people for no justifiable reason.

Another paper ball followed the first; he was upset and depressed. He knew perfectly well why. Jealousy was something he couldn't readily admit to, but he recognized it when it chose to surface in him. Even if Andrew couldn't see what Maria was up to, Will could. Maria was a threat to everything they had, not because he wasn't willing to fight for it, but rather that he didn't know how.

"Scott's looking for you," Alicia commented from across his desk. Will had been so distracted that he hadn't even noticed her enter his office. She gave him a concerned look, readily picking up on the fact that something was weighing heavily on his mind.

Will looked up at her and let out a heavy sigh before he stood up, "Where is he?"

"In the cafeteria, I think," she replied. "Everything ok, boss?"

Will glanced past her towards the general direction of the cafeteria, "Yeah, we'll talk later, ok?"

She gave him a sympathetic nod, as he left in search of his Royal Highness and whatever menial task awaited him upon his arrival. He always dreaded a Royal summons, they never went well, and always began exactly the same way.

"I've had an idea," Scott exclaimed, standing beside the coffee machine.

"Oh really, sir?" Will attempted to inject a note of enthusiasm into his voice, but it came out strangled.

"Yes, follow me." Scott started towards the door back onto the sales floor, but paused when he noticed Will was in no hurry to follow him. "I have a meeting with the regional manager in an hour," he said, a mad glint seeping into his eyes. "I want to implement this before he gets here."

Will poured himself a cup of coffee and contemplated his no-alcohol policy for the umpteenth time. A belt of strong Irish whiskey would definitely deaden the pain that was about to be inflicted. He stirred in some sugar and steeled himself as he followed Scott out onto the floor.

Will watched as agents poked their heads above their cubicles like gophers to watch where the predator, in this case Scott Weippert, was heading, ducking back out of sight again if he looked in their general area. There was a smell of fear in the wind, and Will noted the look of satisfaction on Scott's face. Whether he was conscious of it or not, Scott revelled in the fear his presence generated.

One of the sales verification agents drew up short; he had unwittingly crossed paths with the two managers. Never a comfortable position to find himself in. The verifier froze like a deer caught in a pair of headlights. Will felt pity for him, the other four verifiers had fled to the far end of the call centre, acting like they were busy, while whispering amongst themselves and nodding towards Scott.

"How are you doing today?" Scott said, a smile on his face that was cold and toothy, like a wolf bearing its teeth. He reached out and took the verifier's clipboard and flipped through the pages. "Ah," he said in disappointment, "I need more credit card closes than this, Brian. Otherwise I will have to put you back on the phones."

Sufficiently terrified for his position and for the extra dollar an hour it paid, Brian reclaimed his clipboard and mumbled something about understanding before he scurried off as fast as he could.

"I listened to him earlier," Will commented. "He saved a sale from going sour..."

"I don't care," Scott said absently, still staring after Brian. "I need credit card sales; you know why."

"Money in the bank." Will recited the party line verbatim.

"Exactly; he can be the best salesman in Ottawa, but I am not paying him to close sales, I am paying him to get credit card numbers and put money in the bank."

"Of course, sir," Will inclined his head, choosing not to press the issue that any return, no matter the method of payment, was still far better than none at all.

"Good, now I want you to look around; who doesn't belong here?"

Will frowned, "I don't follow," he admitted looking at the rows of agents.

Scott gave an exasperated sigh. "Work with me Will, not against me. Who here doesn't belong? How many people here aren't salesmen?"

Will had that ominous feeling forming in the pit of his stomach, "They are all trained..."

"I'm not talking about training." Scott snapped, "You've had months to work with them, some of them are just not producing. They are taking up seats you should fill with better salespeople. I want you to walk around the floor with me and count the number of people who should not be here."

"You're asking me to decide who stays and who goes?" Will was incredulous; he had never been faced with such a choice before in his life. Sure he had fired people, agents that were not right for the firm. But that was with a valid reason; he kept those with potential, those who held the faintest spark of life. That small chance they could develop into sales agents. To be suddenly asked to "cull the herd" made him uneasy.

It was regimented; Will did as he was asked. He walked around the call centre and discreetly indicated ten individuals who were not living up to their potential. He hoped desperately that it would be enough. It wasn't. Scott reached over and added another ten names to the list. Will's heart sank.

"Terminate all of them," Scott ordered. "I want them all gone by the end of the day."

Will could only nod in assent as he received his instructions; he felt a little piece of his soul get tugged away.

When he eventually returned to his office, he felt the overwhelming urge to break something, but he held his temper tightly in check. It was a hard day that only seemed to get steadily worse as it drew on. He slammed his mug down on the edge of his desk and stood with his hands tightly clasped behind his back staring out of his window at the street.

There was literally nothing he could do; he couldn't say no, refuse to comply with his instructions. His job was to manage the Human Resources, and that meant this was his responsibility, a thankless task at that. The red numbers on his wall chart would go up beside him and would take a month at least to recover. Until then the numbers were going to be running at a deficit.

"Log out!" Brad's voice echoed across the floor as lunch break began. And for some of them it was their last. Will didn't move, couldn't move. He didn't want to face them. There was a certain responsibility he felt he owed them. Some of the names on that list had families and depended upon their paycheques to survive. It felt like they had been betrayed.

That was how Alicia found him. She tentatively set a fresh mug of coffee down on his desk and flopped into the chair across from his own. She lifted up her legs and tucked them under her as she unwrapped a Twinkie.

"What's up?" She asked after he refused to move.

"It's a rough day," he replied suddenly feeling so much older. "Ever had a day when you just want to go home, crawl into bed and hide under the sheets?"

"All the time," she admitted. "But I need the money, and Worm isn't about to get a job. One of us has to pay rent and buy food."

Worm was her latest love affair, a street kid she had met on one of her sojourns through Ottawa's underbelly. It was like buying a rundown home: she thrived on fixing them up as she went, giving them a place to live and food for them to eat as she tried to get them back on their feet. For her, bringing home such strays was a way to buy a little love. Sure Worm loved her, but he was getting a free ride; she provided everything for him and all she asked in return was his adoration. Why bother going out to find love when you could just bring it home with you, keep it warm and feed it occasionally?

"Yeah," Will agreed collapsing into his own chair finally. "Well, today seems hell bent on breaking me."

"Oh? Do tell," Alicia said, giving him her full attention.

"Well, it started last night," Will took a pull on his coffee. "Jeff's family needed a place to stay so they ended up at mine."

Alicia screwed up her face. "Ouch, how did Andrew take that?"

"Not well; they don't know about us so we've had to be discreet, if you catch my meaning."

"Oh, no," she said empathically. "You two have to be going nuts!"

Will looked up at the ceiling tiles, "That's not the worst of it. Jeff's sister has taken a shine to Andrew."

"No!" Alicia said, incredulously.

"Well, she only came into the kitchen last night wearing Andrew's hockey jersey and a pair of panties wanting Andrew to show her around town."

"Bitch!" Alicia exclaimed. "How'd Andrew react?"

"Shock, mainly," Will admitted. "But like any guy, he was looking."

Alicia gave him a strange look, "I thought Andrew was... well... you know..." she bent her wrist and held it up.

Will had always detested that stereotype, "No, Andrew's straight with an exception." He shrugged trying to explain, "You know, one of those guys confident in their sexuality until they open their eyes and realize they are in a relationship with a guy."

"I thought that meant you were gay?" she asked, a little confused.

"No," Will responded. "Only confused, it's like taking a vacation from the norm and visiting Gay World. Everyone gets a ride, and don't worry, you can bring baggage."

Alicia noted the sarcasm in his tone, "Bitter?"

"I suppose," he admitted. "It's more from the fact that I know I can't compete. I use charm, social skills and intelligence to get what I want, but this girl is using the one thing I just can't fight...sex appeal."

Alicia snorted, "Sure you can, kick her to the curb. It's your house, you don't have to take some little bimbo seducing your boyfriend."

"Too late, I think. Andrew took her on a tour around campus today." He shuddered at the memory of the journey in town that morning, of her leaning on the back of his seat, resting a hand on his shoulder, laughing and joking with Andrew about things Will had felt too out of touch to understand. Andrew hadn't laughed like that in months; he'd been too engrossed in his books and studying to take an interest in the world around him, until now. Until her.

"You're just going to give up?" Alicia was shocked. "Why? `Cause some girl comes along waving her booty and he happens to look?" She tossed her Twinkie down, "I've seen a gay man seduce a guy from across a room; I was at that bar down on Lisgar..."

"Icon?" Will supplied the name of the bar.

"Yeah, I know you; it would take you all of five minutes to pick up in there. I've never seen anyone act as smooth as you." She shook her head in disbelief, "And you are just going to give up, the first time it starts to get a bit too hard?"

Will set his mug down. "It's not the same thing," he replied. "I don't like going to a gay bar, the guys are after the same thing."

"And that's why you're dating Andrew. You wanted something more than a one-night stand, you just don't give up on a love like that." Alicia stared at him for a long time, "You like to think you're some big-shot, but deep down you really want to be loved... Too bad you're too chicken shit to take what Andrew offered you."

Will blinked at her; when had she grown up to the point where she could make that kind of observation? She was four years younger than him, and he realized he had underestimated her because of that.

He let out a long sigh, "So what do I do then?"

"You need to start by getting her away from Andrew. Once you're done that you need to fix some of the damage she's caused. Remind him of why he loves you and all of that."

Will nodded, "He was interested in the hockey game."

Alicia grinned, "Game six is tonight. Hang on, I might be able to help." She rooted in her purse, pulling out two battered tickets which she handed to him. "Worm wanted me to take him, but you need them more."

Will smiled in gratitude, accepting the tickets, "Alright, I'll take them. Thanks Alicia."

She shrugged and retrieved her Twinkie, "No problem, Boss."

Will set the tickets down and glanced at his other problem. If only the list would go away as easily. No, that was going to make his afternoon difficult. But he relaxed slightly; at least he had something to look forward to.

Copyright © 2011 Christopher Patrick Lydon; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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