CHAPTER 1
At thirty-eight Mike Jones had the slumped shoulders of a loser, and for good reason. He'd lost his wife, lost his executive job and had escaped bankruptcy by a whisker and had now slunk home to live with his parents, those events occurring in that order.
The job market was tight but he's found a position, at sixty percent of his former salary, as assistant chief admin officer at Burling Medical Laboratories Supplies. Mike had politely asked his father to drop him off at his new workplace but retired high voltage reliability engineer Archie growled, "Get a bus." Amy his mom kept out of that exchange, knowing her place in the pecking order and anyway she couldn't drive.
Mike stood in the two-entrance see-through bus stop shelter waiting for the 102 City Express due at 7.25.
It arrived on time and he was boarding when he caught sight of a woman running. He stepped off and told the driver, "Woman coming, running."
The driver looked at him but said nothing.
The woman, shapeless under her coat and wearing a cute hat puffed, "Thanks" to Mike and boarded, Mike almost treading her heels. She dropped a dollar when placing her $1.70 in the fare box. Mike caught it and tossed it in the box for her, receiving his second grateful smile of the morning. She tool a seat beside someone near the front so Mike walked to the rear and sat beside a wheezing guy who filled his seat and a third of Mike's.
After two more stops the bus went on to the freeway for the express trip into the city.
At the third stop in the CBD Mike followed the woman in the brown coat off the bus. She took a left and he turned right and thought no more about her, instead focusing on the day ahead. The chief admin officer appeared to be a bad-tempered bitch and so he wasn't looking forward to Day 1 at the new job.
Mrs Edwards introduced him to the other twenty-three in admin. He'd met top management during his second and third interviews.
"You handle your own paperwork and correspondence but may use my PA Betty to assemble your reports and convert your commentaries into proper English."
"Thanks." Mike said, attempting to inject a tone of gratitude. Saying lighten your tone bitch to one's boss on the first day at work would be a kiss of death.
Mrs Edwards tossed him a bunch of invoices with copies of dispatch slips attached prepared by general staff. She instructed him to check, approve/reject and hand them back to her.
Fifty-five minutes later he took them into her.
"A problem?"
"No."
"What then?"
"I've finished. The eight on the top red-tabbed require re-processing."
"You can't have done a proper job so quickly," Mrs Edwards said looking on her desk for her glasses that were propped in her hair. Mike left her to fiddle, wondering if she knew what day it was.
Later Mrs Edwards called him into her office for coffee.
"I couldn't find anything wrong with your approvals," she accused.
Mike sipped his coffee and mumbled thanks.
"So you know what the bottom drawer is?"
"The place for low priority work that spells nothing but trouble."
"Correct. This folder from my bottom drawer requires a report overdue by at least six months. I'd like you to work on it."
"A pleasure."
"I doubt it," she smiled.
A smile? Jesus, thought Mike, scratching through his sandy-colored hair while wondering if that was her smile for the week.
That evening his mom kissed him, took his coat and asked how had his day gone.
Mike replied it had been a little disjointed and people were a little unfriendly but he believed he'd coped well. Although in the same room, his switched-off father looked up when Mike sat beside him and said, "Oh you're home?"
Mike sighed.
Next morning was sunny and Mrs Brown Coat of the morning before arrived as the bus arrived and smiled at Mike who'd stepped back for her. She wore a tight dark business suit and no hat. Her dark hair was cut fashionably short and Mike approved the breast-line and as she stepped aboard he noticed the great-looking calves. She appeared to be in her early forties and would be married. Mike wondered what her attitude would be to illicit sex.
Just after 4:00 that day Mike finished his analysis and emailed the bottom drawer report findings and his recommendations.
Minutes later Mrs Edwards entered his office waving the email.
"Do you really think it's this simple?"
"Yes the analysis of data is conclusive. Your receivables section is far more efficient than the payables section and because both teams have the same supervisor/trainer it is doubtful it's a management problem. Therefore as I suggest you recommend to management they don't bring an expensive consultant in to study the problem, at least not initially. First you should switch a couple of women from the receivables team to the payables team and in two months reassess the situation."
"I can't see the CEO buying that. The solution seems too easy."
"Actually the supervisor needs a rocket for not trying this herself. But insert a word before expensive consultant, such as 'very' or 'exceedingly' or go for the jugular and suggest 'a frightfully expensive consultant' but perhaps that's a bit too emotive for a management report."
"Mike you are a genius. Thank you. I'm so grateful."
Mike gave her a genuine smile but knew she should receive a rocket for not processing that file months ago.
Sleet threatened again next morning, bringing out coats again. Mrs Brown Coat was already in the shelter when Mike arrived but wearing a blue coat and a blue hat this time, the hat being too wide-brimmed to be cute.
"Good morning," she smiled. "We meet again. I'm Merle."
"Hi I'm Mike. You look lovely."
She colored.
Mike swore to himself and chided pace yourself you chump.
"I apologize for being so personnel."
She turned back to him. "I-I'm going through a rough patch domestically."
"Me saying sorry does nothing to assist, does it? Just let me say you appear to have a strong back so are very likely to cope well."
She looked at him curiously and said thank you as the bus arrived.
Mike dropped in his fare and turned, almost knocking over Merle who had been waiting for him. She looked at his hand on her shoulder placed then to prevent the collusion and he drew it away abruptly.
"Sorry, I almost knocked you over."
Her green eyes flickered. "Sit by me this time. We ought to find a vacant double up near the back."
They settled and she said, "Do you live on Elm?"
"Yes at eight."
"We are eighteen. Then you'll be Mrs Jones' boy. I was on her committee that organized our street party last spring."
"Yes my mom is Amy Jones. So what's the problem at home?"
Merle stiffened.
"Come on Merle, you might feel better discussing it."
"With a stranger?"
"Yes."
Merle hesitated and then bit her lip before saying, "My husband is bullying me psychologically. So what have you to say to that?"
"Do you two have children?"
"He has a daughter left she abandoned him when he announced he would be marrying me. She's a young adult living with an older man."
"Well the solution is simple."
"Oh yes?"
"You tell him unless he seeks medical treatment pretty damn quick you will leave him?"
"Omigod," she said, staring straight ahead.
"What?"
"That's what I thought I should do but lack the courage to do it."
