Thanks to all of you who responded positively to my story, "My Corporate Rival." Many of my readers felt like the story was incomplete or ended too quickly. Rather than do a sequel, I decided to take a look at the premise from Rachel's point of view. This is that side of the story. Without giving too much away, it ends at the same point that the original story ended, so I expect I will get a number of comments wondering about Rachel and Brad's lives after the parking lot. At this point, I am leaving it to my readers to create that ending. Anyone who wants to write a continuance, has my permission. Thanks again for your support.
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It was a pleasant night, but as I stood in the hotel parking lot watching the old Range Rover pass out of sight, I shivered as if it were freezing outside. I wasn't feeling anything. Numbness had descended on me when he spoke those finale words after my request that we spend the night together for old times sake. His words had gone through me like a sharp knife.
"No. I don't think so. I won't be the willing cuckold to your affair with your corporate love."
The image of him calmly getting in the Range Rover and driving away was haunting. When I turned to go back into the hotel, where our corporate group was still enjoying themselves, I wiped a tear from my cheek. No need to bring everyone else's good time down because I was feeling morose. As I stepped back into the light of the restaurant, a smile on my face, I heard everyone laughing and having a good time. Despite everyone else's cheer and reverie, I couldn't get Brad's words out of my mind.
Later, sitting in my hotel suite, I kicked off my heels and poured myself a glass of wine. I sat down in the armchair and put my stocking feet on the coffee table and crossed my ankles. As I sipped the wine, my thoughts drifted back to the beginning, where I had met Brad so long ago.
Before I start my tale, you should know a little about me. My name is Rachel Preston, and I am the CFO of a large multinational corporation that holds many smaller corporations in its portfolio. I am successful. At 52, I am the youngest member of the senior management team of this conglomerate. My goal is to eventually sit in the CEO's chair and, with a little luck, retire to become the Chairman of the Board. I will be the first female CEO and the first female Chairman.
These types of lofty goals have always been part of my life plan. In college, I majored in business with a specialty in finance. An MBA in Management was my next serious goal. During that period, I met Brad, Bradley Orenstein. Brad was, at the time, an intense and focused young man. He was working on a double degree plan that would, if he was successful, bring him both an MBA in Management and a JD. It was a tough course of study, requiring Brad to spend hours studying and writing.
I understood his drive and ambition, but didn't understand his long-term plans. My goal was to be somebody, with a position that would get me respect and attention while challenging me to perform. The axiom that those who can do, and those who can't teach resonated with me. That was why I had so much trouble understanding why Brad wanted to continue in academia after graduate school. His most fervent desire was to attain a PhD and a tenured position with a major university. I saw it as a lack of ambition. For me, corporate America was the ultimate dream.
Graduation finally arrived and we both attained the next milestone on our list. With diploma's in hand, we looked toward our next ambition. For me, it was a job. I was done with school and I wanted to start making my name in the world. Bard and I had been living together for more than a year. Our life was good. We didn't have much but each other and school. That seemed like all we needed at the time. Brad has a small trust fund that provides for his school and a bit for living expenses. Like most other students, I was working the student loan programs to keep myself afloat. I knew I was racking up a ridiculous amount of debt, but I was sure that when I finally got started, I would easily pay it off with the fabulous salaries that I anticipated.
The summer before we graduated, I scored an internship with Acme Corporate. Just before graduation, the man for whom I interned that summer contacted me. Bishop was the CFO of the Manchester Tank, a wholly owned subsidiary of Acme Corp. Trent was 10 or 12 years older than I am, a good guy, happily married, and on the way up the corporate ladder. There was no hesitation. The position that Trent offered me was an entry-level position with the company, but it was a job, and I was thrilled.
My job made our life much easier. Brad was prepping for the Bar exam, and I was busy getting into the rhythm of corporate life. For me, it was an exciting time. For Brad, it was stressful. I never have really understood why he thought it was so important to pass the Bar and his license to practice law. His real ambition was to go on to get a PhD and then teach. Anytime I would ask, he would patiently explain that he had a plan. Not only would he be in academia, but he saw opportunities in consulting that I just didn't understand.
Eventually, Brad passed the Bar. Like an aspiring writer, he kept sending applications and inquiries to universities all over the country. It was almost a year later when I came home from work and found him nearly jumping up and down with excitement. Holding the letter, he exuberantly explained that he had been accepted to Harvard as a PhD candidate in Business. We danced around the living room of our small apartment before he asked me to change clothes so we could go out to eat to celebrate.
It was hard not to rain on his parade. I don't think he realized that we didn't live in Boston and that for him to take the opportunity in the letter, we would have to move. I had a solid job that I really liked with a company that offered me huge potential. There were no plans in my future to change jobs so he could continue to go to school. I stifled my concerns and joined him in celebrating his success.
Two days later, a memo came across my desk that one of our sister corporations in the Boston area had an opening that fit my skill set. I really liked working for Trent, so I approached him later that afternoon, holding the memo. I explained Brad's opportunity and asked if he thought making a change like this would hurt my career. He smiled, took me to the cafeteria and bought us a cup of coffee. I still remember his words today.
"Rachel. If you look at the memo, you will see that the position is at least two pay grades above yours. It would be a promotion for you. You will never get a jump on your career if you stay here just because you like it. The only way to exist in this world is to grab what life makes available. There is no doubt that you have the skills and the talent to handle that job. If you don't apply for it, I will be disappointed in you."
I immediately left that impromptu meeting and submitted my application and my resume. The process was not as slow as I anticipated and within a week, I had two telephone interviews. Shortly after that, I was notified that I had been shortlisted, and the job was mine if I wanted it. That evening, I told Brad about the opportunity, and he was amazed. It looked like we were on our way to Boston.
We made the move to Boston and found a place convenient for both of us. Brad was close enough to the campus to use public transportation or ride his bike, weather permitting. I commuted in our old Toyota. Brad kept it in tip-top shape, so there was never any worry about it being rode worthy. However, it was a slight embarrassment to park it among all the late model sedans and SUVs in the company parking lot.
My job was challenging, but I was soon in the grove. I found out almost a year later that my old boss. Trent, had greased the rails a bit for me. He didn't pull strings, but he talked to my new boss and, apparently, gave me a rousing reference. I kept in touch with Trent during my sojourn in Boston. He had been promoted to CEO of the plant where I had worked for him, and the corporate rumor mill was that he was headed up the ladder to even more prestigious digs.
Brad was totally absorbed with his teaching duties and the part he was playing in the research for his PhD. I never really understood what he was doing or why he thought it was so important, but evidently, someone on campus did. A little over three years passed in Boston. Looking back, I am a little disappointed. In all that time, Brad and I never really got out and visited all those historic places. He never had time, and I was focused on making the most of the opportunity I handed me with this promotion.
Three and half years into our Boston adventure, my boss and the head of HR for Acme Corp, showed up at my office one morning. That was surprising because rarely did one of the senior managers deign to come down from the lofty heights of the 15 floor. That he was accompanied by a Senior Staffer from Corporate was surprising as well. They didn't waste time on chit-chat but got straight to the point.
"Ms. Preston, this is Bert Cummings. He is the Asst Head of Personnel for Acme Corp."
