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The Possibilities

By: Dinsmore



When I was in high school there was a girl one year behind me named Elaine. Her dad was the high school principal; we were all terrified of him. She was the middle child with an older and younger brother.

Looking back, Elaine was cute. She was taller than average, probable five-seven or eight. With reddish brown naturally curly hair and big sea green eyes she clearly showed her Irish heritage on her fathers side. She had a nice body; she certainly filled out her cheer leading uniform well. With a smattering of faint freckles and that Midwestern, make-up free scrubbed complexion, topped off with a cute little turned up nose, one has to wonder why more guys didn't ask her out. Her mother, then in her very early forties was a very striking woman.

The fact that no one had the nerve to ask her out was the "fault" of her father's station in life and her protective brothers. None of us had the balls to knock on her parent's door on a Friday or Saturday night to be greeted by her father who at the time we believed was the toughest, meanest human being on the planet. A legitimate war hero and combat fighter ace he had a look that turned adolescent boys to jelly. A former college wrestler, he also looked like he could tear you limb from limb.

Her older brother was a senior with me and a good friend; her younger brother, a sophomore was also a friend. As boys hang out in the locker room , the cafeteria or wherever and talk about how far they got the previous Friday or Saturday night with so-and-so, one could envision a look from Elaine's brothers that said, "don't even think about it".

Elaine was also a bit of a late bloomer; I saw a picture of her in her forties and she was every bit the beauty her mother had been. The boy who did ask her out, and dated her exclusively through his senior year in high school and college---and married her----was a bit of a goof ball. We all liked him; he was a marginal student, a cut up and a decent wrestler. He was easily an inch or two shorter than Elaine but the family seemed to approve of him.

Russ never quite managed to graduate from college in the time it took Elaine to get a Masters. He had trouble acquiring and holding decent jobs or succeeding in business. I saw a picture of him a few years back and he was carrying well over two hundred pounds on a five foot six inch frame; he looked like a bowling ball with legs. He lost his hair by the time he hit forty. He's had health problems. They never had kids; rumor had it that he had the deficiency. They're still married; he's very much in love with her. They never left that isolated little burg; Elaine teaches school and writes and Russ slips from low paying job to low paying job or failed business to failed business...and everyone still loves the guy.

A couple of months before I graduated from high school, I saw Elaine sitting alone in the local teen hangout/diner and decided to join her. I'd always had a fascination with her; she intrigued me. She was sitting there alone because Russ was late to pick her up as usual. We talked for over an hour; we flirted. We connected at a level I don't really understand to this day. There was unquestionably mutual interest. It was more...it was electric...it bordered on pure unbridled passion. We weren't strangers; I'd known her since she had been in the seventh grade but never before had we connected one on one. She was, during that hour, sexier, more alluring and more exciting than I could ever remember her being----or anyone else for that matter---before or since.

I was going off to college in the fall and a summer job far away in a few weeks. Russ was my friend and Elaine was, "his girl". Still, I have no question that had I not been eighteen and stupid I could have taken her away from Russ in that hour. I will always wish I had told her the truth or at least said something creative.

"Elaine, your are the brightest, cutest most interesting girl---no, woman---I've ever met. You excite me at this instant like no one I've ever been with. If I were to predict, you and Russ will end up going to the closest regional state university, date through college and get married soon after. Then you'll move back here and live with your parents for a few years. For whatever reason---your dad, your brothers---Russ was the only boy who had the nerve to ask you out. He was the first and will doubtless be the last. He's a sweet guy but I think we both know he'll never amount to a hill of beans. You on the other hand could do great things---but you won't because you will die in this dead little town, after retiring from teaching high school, supporting your loser husband and burying your dreams. You're better than that but I'm also being selfish."

I can imagine the look of shock and consternation on her face after that little speech.

"Elaine, I don't plan to come back her to live. I'm going to a top university and plan to make something of myself. When I graduate, get a job and have a couple of years to get established, I'm going to come find you. Hopefully you'll still be available but sadly, I doubt it. If you are still single, then I will ask you to marry me, you'll say yes of course and you and I will live happily ever after---together. And I will love you and make love to you like no man on this earth could ever do---totally, absolutely and completely---you and no other but you until I die. Any questions?"

It didn't happen that way; Elaine and Russ got married when she got her undergraduate degree and the rest is, sadly, history. But what if? What if something different happened? What if that foolish eighteen year old boy got a second chance many years later? Of course Elaine and Russ got married, but something happened? His health problems resulted in his early demise? She wanted children---and more---and woke up one day and realized that she wanted more out of life than Russ could ever give her and divorced his sorry butt? Russ turned out to be gay? Maybe all three? 

Let's give it a go, but it's going to take a few pages to get there. As often happens when a story idea comes to me "life gets in the way" so the reader is going to have to endure some corporate stuff as we take our protagonist to that fateful day when he is reunited with the girl with whom he was destined to spend the rest of his life. 

***

"The best laid plans of mice and men," Bill thought to himself as he contemplated the beginning of his forty-first year on earth. Celebrating the night of his fortieth birthday alone, in a city he despised, doing a job he hated, in an urban condo that stifled him he smiled affectionately at the bottle of 1986 Camus Reserve Cabernet which he had diligently preserved for so many years in anticipation of this day. He had a yellow legal pad propped on his lap with a line drawn down the middle. He was assessing his assets and liabilities.

He had his health and was physically fit; he'd finally won the battle against nicotine with the exception of the occasional decent cigar. He'd never done drugs and his taste in alcoholic beverages was decidedly moderate. He didn't gamble. No wife, just an ex-wife. No kids to either love or hate him. No real close friend but no dire enemies. The rehabilitative alimony was over. He'd lost half his assets in the divorce five years earlier but had rebuilt his savings and the bitch hadn't been able to get to his 401k. He had a six figure job but never got into collecting "big boy toys" so he lived well below his means. His parents were dead and he had no siblings.

If he blew his brains out with the 1911 Colt beside his bed, no one would miss him for several days. He didn't know his neighbors nor really care to. His job entailed excessive travel and frequent relocations; as such he had no real ties to any community. He wasn't quite where he thought he'd be at forty. A lackluster Junior year in college coupled with the draft had delayed his ultimate graduation from college by over five years. When he had entered the civilian corporate world those who had not fought in the war or had to take a second run at college were several years ahead of him. His current boss was all of thirty-two.

He was highly respected for his skills and knowledge and the excellent job he did but he seriously doubted that he was on anyone's fast track. He didn't golf or schmooze. He didn't complain but nor did he politic. He accepted shitty assignments that others avoided and turned in stellar results. He was usually rewarded with money, a pat on the back and another crappy assignment. He was the classic corporate hatchet man. "Bill, Des Moines is a mess, go out there, get the lay of the land and clean house." Or, "Bill, this business unit is unprofitable; go out to San Diego, see if it can be fixed and if not, close it down and terminate the employees." Or worse, "Bill, everyone loves the guy out in Cleveland but he's not meeting his objectives; go fire him and take over in the interim."

He had a somewhat nebulous title: Vice President of Corporate Restructuring. His thirty-two year old boss was a Senior Vice President of Corporate Solutions. He was a nice kid, albeit completely spineless and utterly clueless. He in turn reported to the President who barely gave Bill a nod in the hallway. He was sure the CEO and founder knew his name but doubted that he could put it with his face.

At this point in his career Bill should be the head of a major business unit but the only business units he was ever put in charge of were failing ones and it was his task to end their misery. 

There'd been a shakeup at the top; the CEO and founder shocked the corporate community by announcing his imminent retirement and the board was bringing in a new face from a major consumer products company who knew nothing about this business. All of the minions were scurrying around preparing to meet the new guy; Bill had not been invited to do so---hadn't even been included in one of the briefing sessions.

Bill was like the mafia uncle that no ones wants to admit knowing until the family is threatened. There was something out of Rudyard Kipling about his existence. He had heard the nick names: the terminator, the hammer, Dr. Doom, the angel of death. Every company has them, kept on a shelf in a dark basement room until they're needed to do some dirty work. He laughed when he realized that his corporate life was really an extension of his military experience. No one he worked with knew what he had done in the Army; they wouldn't have been able to avoid the irony if they had known.

The bottle was empty and he was tired. There was an impressive list on the plus side of his personal ledger, certainly enough to keep him from putting a 230 grain hollow point, "flying ashtray" through his brain. On the negative side just a few words: No life, no love---no one. The damned travel and constant relocation even precluded a damn dog. 

Love...had he ever been in love? Certainly not with his former wife; love had had nothing to do with that fucked up relationship. There had been a girl just before he graduated from high school; they'd never dated, danced together or kissed. They'd known each other for years in school, connected once for an hour and that was it. Certainly he was in love with his memory of her. He hadn't seen her or talked to her in twenty-two years. She was married to another man. She was probably overweight and burdened with several children by now.

The weekend passed as so many others had. He ran, he worked out, he read, he wrote---purely for the satisfaction it gave him---watched some football and slept. Monday morning he drove to the office he had occupied for the previous eight months. This job was almost over; the manufacturing facility was closed, the employees were virtually all terminated and the assets were being sold off. He'd move back to the corporate headquarters, sit on his ass for some period of time and then be sent off to burn down another failing business. He was done here; he probably hadn't been called back yet because the big boys were too busy polishing the apple and sucking up to the new CEO.

His clueless and spineless boss often called him just before seven on Monday morning knowing that Bill would be there. When he hadn't called by eight Bill just assumed he was busy primping for his audience with the new emperor. Just after nine, his secretary stuck her head in the door. Vallerie was a fifty-seven year old, somewhat austere, no nonsense woman. She had become his right hand over the years, relocated with him and was the closest person in the world to a good friend that Bill had.

"Bill, I've got one of those, secretary to secretary, 'please get Mr. Shilling on the line' calls from the new CEO's office."

"I've got it Val. Thanks!"

"Mr. Shilling? Hi, this is Rebecca Smythe, Mr. Kearing's administrative assistant, hold please for Mr. Kearing."

Bill's thirty-two year old boss did this and often kept him on hold for fifteen minutes or more. This was the CEO...hell it could be an hour. He left the phone on speaker; to his surprise the CEO came on the line in less than twenty seconds.

"Mr. Shilling? Mike Kearing...may I call you Bill?"

Bill grabbed the phone and punched it off speaker. "You can call me almost anything you want to sir!" Bill replied, almost regretting his attempt at humor but then that was his style. To his relief, Mike Kearing, the new CEO was laughing so hard he almost dropped the phone.

"That is refreshing! A man with a sense of humor early on a Monday morning. Please call me Mike. Let me get right down to it. I noticed that you are no where on my schedule of beauty appointments slash dog and pony shows---why is that?"

"I've just finished up this assignment, sir, ah, Mike. This business is done, dead, kaput. Employees are gone, assets are being carted off as we speak and the building is going to be torn down the first of next week. Since I don't run an ongoing business unit---I just shoot the ones with broken legs---I suppose no one thought I had anything to impress you with."

Mike Kearing chucked again. "So you're the resident undertaker, grave digger and bringer of bad tidings. I knew we had one somewhere. How long have you been in this line of work?"

"Fourteen years with the company...the normal progression for the first four---sales, marketing and operations--- then someone discovered my gift, so, ten years? The job does have growth potential...I seem to be killing bigger business units with every passing year."

"Do you enjoy it?"

"Hate it...absolute hate it."

"So did I."

"Pardon me?"

"I wasn't always a golden boy, Bill. I spent almost ten years as a grave digger. One day I got an assignment and I didn't think the unit should be killed. I fought for it, they gave me a completely unrealistic time frame to turn it around and a pretty free reign. I orchestrated a leveraged buyout and the rest is history. How soon can you get up here?"

"For a chat or permanently?"

"Both."

"I can probably be there for a chat by the end of the day; I have a couple of things to sign off on with the city and the demo people but I can get out on a flight by mid afternoon. Permanently? Pretty much the same time frame."

Mike laughed again. "I like you already, Bill. A dark sense of humor is about the only thing that kept me sane when I was doing it. Are you an early riser?"

"Thanks to growing up on a dairy farm and four years in the Army it's a hard habit to break."

"Do you have a home up here?"

"No, I used to. Should I buy one?"

"Probably. Regardless, you need to tie up your personal affairs there---immediately. I haven't moved yet; I'm still camped out at the Hyatt. I'll have my admin make a reservation for you. Let's plan on breakfast at six; there's a breakfast nook on the floor we'll be on."

"That'll work."

"Great! Kearing out."

Out? Has to be former military...need to check out his official bio...need to pack...sell the damn condo.

Thanks to weather, maintenance issues and slow city officials, Bill did not arrive at the Hyatt five miles from his corporate headquarters until a little after seven. His room was on a special floor that required a special key and a special elevator. It was more a suite than a room. 

He hung up his clothes and took a quick shower, donning jeans and a sweater. He ordered a burger and a decent bottle of wine. He chuckled to himself when it came with two pieces of decent crystal stem ware. This was not the Red Roof Inn. He opened his lap top, answered some email messages and Googled the new CEO. 

Army, infantry, combat, decorated, officer. Bill had many of those under his name somewhere, although he had been a Warrant in Military Intelligence not a commissioned officer in the infantry. They had fought in the same long war just at opposite ends of it. Something in common, that was certain. A state university education, not Ivy. That was a surprise. Just before 8:30 there was a knock at the door. He opened it to see a man he deemed to be a decade older and dressed much as he was.

"Bill Shilling? Mike Kearing." The CEO said, extending his hand. "Am I interrupting anything?"

"Not at all! Welcome to my not so humble abode. Come on in. I was just about to tackle this bottle of wine...care to join me?"

"Without question...you've got good taste."

"Sadly, a decent bottle of wine is my only vice. I just finished checking my email and Googling my anticipated breakfast companion."

"Let's order another one, one will not be enough for the two of us."

"A man after my own heart."

"What did you do in the Army, Bill?"

"MI, running agents...resolving... issues."

"Nasty stuff. Started as a Ranger, ended up with the LRPS."

"Even nastier stuff."

"Any regrets?"

"Not really. It wasn't what I planned but I wouldn't change anything."

"Me neither. There aren't many people in this company who served; most are too young to have combat exposure anyway. Hell, you just got in on the tail end of that cluster fuck."

"If I'd kept my nose to the grind stone in college I'd probably have missed it entirely. That and having to go back and finish my last year of college set me back a little with regards to my contemporaries but I'm proud to have served in what was a completely fucked up endeavor."

"Water over the dam; I'm a better man for it and no regrets either. So, Bill, who'd you piss off to become the resident undertaker?"

"No one that I know of. I sort of volunteered the first time and unfortunately I got good at it and no one else wanted the job. Hell, I didn't want the job! One thing led to another and the die was cast."

"Married?"

"Divorced."

"Kids?"

"Nope."

"That's fortunate, I don't mean that it's fortunate that you don't have kids but fortunate that since you are divorced you don't have kids."

"I couldn't agree more...want kids, someday...sooner rather than later."

"How fucked up is this company?"

"Only marginally. A little top heavy---staff is way off the reservation and running amuck. A lack of standardization between business units---sales process and IT. A few fiefdoms out in the field that need to be taken down. Too much emphasis on sales not enough on profitability. Too many head shed types who don't have a clue what is going on and have never met a customer. We're slow to react to regulatory issues and political meddling in our industry but all in all, good employees who just need clear direction and ethical leadership. 

"We have excellent manufacturing and solid vendor relationships, good products and stellar distribution. We've over out-sourced and over consolidated customer facing functions. Failed to lead from the top strategically while micro managing the day to day tactical shit. No one's in charge and everyone's in charge. A lot of really good people still seem to get the job done in spite of the problems."


The Possibilities



Mike was laughing again, almost spilling his wine. "I've asked that same question in one way or another to ever one I've met and you are the first one to give it to me that straight---and concise. You get it and it's exactly what I've sensed but others don't seem to...why?"

"Fear, protecting their own empires, and then some really don't get it. Mike, I'm far from an insider so I'm not invested in anything, but elements of what I outlined are at the core of every business unit I've...closed. I'm like the fly on the wall. I do an after action---'lessons learned'--- every time I close another one down. No one reads them."

"I did. Every one of them."

"They haven't been shredded?"

"Fortunately, no. Did you ever end up trying to fight for one of the businesses you were assigned?"

"Twice, once half heartedly and more recently in earnest but I received a very clear message that the decision had already been made and to do my job. My finances were tied up from the divorce and money was tight. In retrospect, I still think it was a keeper and tried like hell to find someone to buy it out but the funding fell through at the last minute."

"How in the hell did you end up working for your current boss---or more accurately, how did he get to be a senior VP?"

"You're putting me on thin ice here, Mike. He's a nice kid, four handicap, politically astute, charming corporate wife, good looking guy, tall, has presence...looks like a Senior VP...gives astounding Powerpoint."

"And?"

"Pretty much clueless and spineless, although I think his heart is in the right place and he's got a decent brain."

"And his boss? The President?"

"He nods at me in the hallway, must know what I do but I'm never sure he can put my face and name together so I'm not really qualified to comment. I don't play golf so I'm not really part of his social circle. On the other hand he has put together a number of very critical acquisitions for us and the analysts love him. Frankly I don't know him."

"But you are right, he is an M&A genius and Wall Street adores him. I don't play golf either...hate it.

"Oh, my, that's got to be causing some genuine consternation."

"Politics and ass kissing piss me off; I prefer results oriented people...I hate Powerpoint."

"Slides can be useful if you keep to the rule of no more than one slide for every five minutes."

"I had one this morning with 134 slides, all sorts of cute special effects...I almost came unglued."

"That would cause me to consider a violent act."

"Bill, how would you feel about taking over a business that's marginally fucked up but absolutely is not destined for demolition?"

"I would give up my first born, if I had one. Which one did you have in mind?"

"Let's hold that for breakfast or possibly later tomorrow. Let's just spend the rest of the evening on this second excellent red getting to know each other."

Mike talked about his family and his children. Bill talked about his upbringing and early life and mentioned his penchant for writing.

"What do you write, Bill?"

"Promise not to laugh?"

"Absolutely."

"I write stuff that if it were ever to be published would probably end up on one of those paperback carousels near the super market check out lane. I write love stories---romances---steamy, one might even say erotic, short stories. To me they're more than just lurid tales; they're about love lost and found again...missed opportunity...improbable love...passion...undeniable desire...need...that special someone---and I'm a sucker for a happy ending."

"My, my...how interesting. I've tried to write, Bill but just don't seem to have the creative juice. I read a lot---always have thanks to my parents. I enjoy almost anything but I do have a weakness for love stories---and that is not for public consumption either! My wife knows---hell I make her buy them for me! Any chance I've read any of your work?"

"Doubtful. I've had a couple published in an obscure periodical and a few on line but I'm hardly a well known author. It kind of funny; unlike you I was never interested in reading in the genre in which I write. Most of the pop stuff is a bit cheesy. It's not real; the characters are too one dimensional. "

"Any chance I might get a sample?"

"Why not? I have never shared any of my writing with anyone I actually knew so while this is a little unnerving...let me see. Here's the final copy of my most recent and I hope my best story. It's around 60,000 words and it's been through a final edit."

"We both need to get some sleep, but I just finished a book that you might enjoy. I couldn't agree more; most of the mainstream pop stuff is pretty awful. This one is way about the norm. I'm anxious to discover more by this particular writer. I'll be right back."

Mike was back in under a minute. "I've lost the cover, sorry about that. Enjoy."

Bill was wide awake; he decided to flip through the book his CEO had given him. It grabbed him quickly; he went back to the beginning and read every word. He couldn't put it down. He had never heard of the author, a woman, and the publishing house was not remotely a major one but the lady had talent. Her characters had depth. They had dignity and she took good care of them. She understood human love and painted vivid pictures. He was like a hungry man who only gets a crust of bread; he wanted more. Marie Lantine...he would learn more about her and see what else she had published.

His bloodshot eyes gave him away at breakfast. "You stayed up and read the damn thing, didn't you Bill?"

"You bet. Couldn't put it down."

"Well yours was a bit shorter but quite remarkable; I read it twice. You should quit your day job and write full time. On second thought, don't quit your day job yet---I need your talents."

"That's good to know."

"Bill, what aspect of our operation is the best demonstrated practice---or the least fucked up?"

"Manufacturing is a solid, Six Sigma affair. A lot of the credit has to go to Bud Graham. He hires good people, coaches and mentors---doesn't play golf---and gets the very best out of his folks. He can be very direct at times--- even dismissive---but he's as solid as they come."

"After that?"

"Distribution---at least from the standpoint of mechanics. Their biggest weakness is that over the last few years they've become too isolated from sales and marketing---not to mention the customer. That has to change."

"Biggest 'needs improvement' function?"

"Almost a tie between sales and marketing. The very mergers and acquisitions which have allowed us to grow at an almost unparalleled rate have resulted in a lot of 'silo' mentality and no standardization of sales process across the corporation. Compensation is a disaster; we pay people for the wrong things---don't pay them for the right things. The seven field sales managers---business unit chiefs---are a varied lot. A couple need to be knocked down a peg---they're way off the reservation but very salvageable. A couple probably need to go and the other three just need some leadership."

"Marketing?"

"Completely dysfunctional and out to lunch. Yet, since their standard mode of operation is to figure out who actually is getting work done and then take over that department---and then take credit for work and results they had nothing to do with----there is some real talent buried in there."

"What about staff?"

"HR has too much power. Since no one in HR has ever made, marketed, sold or delivered a product---or been responsible for P&L---they continue to foist bone headed ideas on senior management. Since too many VPs don't have any extensive hands on experience---and HR scares them---they go along with often disastrous results. 

"No one goes to the John in the corporation without getting an analysis from legal. Notice I use the term 'analysis' because getting a black and white answer out of legal is like pulling teeth. They don't see their mission as facilitating corporate goals but more like impeding progress. They need to be put on a short leash---and pared back.

"Finance is okay but their career path is all wrong. Finance types need to spend some time early in their careers in the core business disciplines so they develop a more real world perspective.

"IT has been so out-sourced that it's little more than a help desk. No one in this corporation is responsible for articulating---or qualified to articulate---an overall IT vision. We need to go outside and bring in a high level systems guru who can integrate the myriad systems that don't talk to each other and then develop and implement a roadmap for the future.

"We have a 'vision issue' in the company. We've got lots of people with a vision but not enough people willing to break some eggs, slaughter the sacred cows and piss some people off by actually making changes---and making those changes work. The whole 'corporate vision' movement should have been killed in its infancy. Lots of people think their job is to think strategically but few have the guts, talent and inclination to do anything concrete."

"Anyone on board that could take over HR?"

"The lady I've worked with for the last six years. She started in ops, moved to sales and then applied for an HR job following her divorce. She's been dumped on by the 'Queen Bee' on more than one occasion. Seems her HR blood line isn't pure enough---she's actually held a real job. Doing HR in my little world has to be as tough as it gets and she's never failed me. She's actually senior in terms of corporate tenure to anyone currently in HR and would have been fast track if she hadn't made the move to HR."

"So you would advocate a more functional realignment?"

"Oh hell yes! Look at the organization chart. Most of the executive titles are so nebulous its hard to discern what people actually do. Too much matrix management, too many staff functions blended into line responsibility. On one hand a lack of strategic leadership from the top coupled with micro-management of day to day execution."

"How would you integrate sales and marketing?"

"I wouldn't, per se, at least not functionally. Sales and marketing work best when there is a certain degree of tension between them. In the perfect world marketing develops the big picture, looks toward the future, works with manufacturing and vendors to develop products, coordinates with the field to determine what is realistic in terms of our sales expertise and buying influences and then hands the package to sales and gets out of the way. That's not the way it works now. 

"Marketing seems totally divorced from overall corporate goals. They pad and coddle their programs so that it appears that they have success when in fact most of their marketing programs are neither in step with our corporate goals nor the field sales function. Then they want to meddle in all sorts of areas they have no business in such as compensation in order to drive their pet products."

"You'd split them out?"

"To a point, yes. All the way to the very top. I'd find the best two people to run sales and marketing---preferably two people that are fiercely independent and maybe don't really even like each other---but respect each other. I have some suggestions on that count. I'd have them report to someone with a cast iron constitution---and that person reports to and is integrated into---the executive suite. It has to be someone who can deal with the day-to-day carping from the field sales VPs and the constant pressure from the Marketing VP and isn't caught up in being liked."

"Anything else?"

"You need a chief of staff---all staff reports through that person and that person is integrated into the executive suite. It's not that person's job to deny access to the CEO by the staff---but to at least keep them on the reservation and ensure that they're not wasting your time. Again, in a perfect functional organization chart---a significantly flatter one---the following people report to you: Sales/Marketing, Manufacturing, Distribution/Logistics, M&A--- which has been our bread and butter growth wise---and your Chief of Staff. I think, at least for the present the fact that the founder is staying on as Chairman is a good thing. Let him massage the board---you run the company."

"So, Bill, M&A is a done deal; the COO loves it and is a genius at it. I've already chatted with him and he would be thrilled to concentrate on what he loves and does well as opposed to being a Chief Operating Officer which he doesn't love or do well. He keeps the title but that's just to keep Wall Street happy. No change at Manufacturing---except that he reports to me. I'm bringing in an outsider for the CofS role; I had one in my last job and just shook him loose to come over here. He's a master at it and has no aspirations to ever be a CEO or Chairman. What about Logistics?"

"The guy in charge really designed and created the whole system but he's getting a little long in the tooth. I wouldn't want to lose his brain but if he were honest he'd tell you that he's ready to slip away from the day to day stuff. His number two, Jane Tilson has been with the corporation for twenty-five years and has a resume that is stunning. She has worked in every discipline---operations, sales, marketing---and does not have the ability to have the wool pulled over her eyes. People are a little afraid of her because they can't BS her---she's done all of their jobs and done them exceptionally well. It is a crime that she isn't a senior VP. She's feisty and tenacious, takes care of her people and is all about work ethic. It's a no-brainer."

"Sales and Marketing?"

"There is no one in field or HQ sales management or marketing up to the task. You could bring in an outsider but they'd have a steep learning curve to deal with in our unique market. The top guys at our only two national competitors either are overrated or not for sale."

"What about Bill Shilling for Sales and Marketing?"

Bill paused before responding. He had assumed based on his dialogue with the new CEO over the previous twelve hours that there would be a new opportunity for him. He had not realistically expected it to be this one. It was a major elevation from two executives between him and the CEO to a direct reporting relationship.

"Sure. I know where all the skeletons are buried. I've learned what doesn't work in the last ten years of executions. My record indicates that I'm not afraid to make tough decisions. I have no pets or favorites within the organization and am married to no sacred cows. The fear factor---the general perception that I am a heartless bastard gives me an edge. Evaluating business units---and people---for termination has given me an uncanny ability to sniff out bull shit. You're new enough that it is unlikely that you' re going to stick me with any pets that are all show and no go. Yes...I'm good to go in that job."

"If I thought you really were a heartless bastard we wouldn't be having this chat. I liked you from the start but your writing---the story you shared with me last night---tells me you've got more heart and soul than anyone I've ever met. You care; you've had to make tough, brutal decisions over the years but you haven't got a sadistic bone in your body. 

"You made those hard decisions with class, grace and compassion---and even at that it took a lot out of you. The good news is that up front I'm going to borrow your 'death dagger' or take my own out of storage and do most of the blood letting personally. As a matter of fact, I'd like you to have the opportunity to deliver some good news for a change as far as the people you want to elevate for your organization. There is one sensitive issue..."

"That is?"

"Your young boss. What do you propose we do with him?"

"He skipped or at least glossed over an important step on the way up. I do believe he has a good heart and a decent mind. He never spent enough time in the field---with the troops and the customers. I think with good leadership he could turn into a pretty decent field sales VP."

"Can he deal with reporting to you? Do you want me to handle that one?"

"I think he can deal with it and no, I don't think I need help in that area. It'll shake him up a little but there's never been any animosity between us. If truth be told I intimidate him. I was sort of parked in his world because no one else wanted to have Dr. Doom in their organization chart. I'll address it as soon as you give the word. Time frame?"

"Today. I've already drafted the new organization chart at least as far as the executive suite and my direct reports. A search is already in progress to fill those holes on which we both agree the body need to come from outside. It's pretty much the way you outlined it; the only question was sales and marketing and you just answered that question. I plan to call a staff meeting at 10:00 AM and make the announcements. Do you have an office up here?"

"I have a windowless cubbyhole but it's no matter since I seldom occupy it."

"Well, Bill, shortly after the ten o'clock meeting everyone is going to vacate the top floor---including me---for a two to four week rush renovation. It going to be very open; a central 'CEO Suite'---with offices for my direct reports opening into it. Very much a team approach. You report to me but we function as a single entity. I'm not one of those guys who fears dissent---I encourage it. We'll battle it out in that central room. When possible we'll have unanimity or at least consensus. When not possible, I'll make the hard calls---and then we're all on the same road map. Until we agree---or I end discussion---nothing is sacred, we keep no secrets and leave our egos elsewhere. Don't ever be afraid to play devil's advocate---stick to your guns. Are you okay with that?"

"More than okay...something approaching giddy? Where are we going to operate from for the next month?"

"Right here at this hotel. We're close enough to the headquarters but separated enough not to distracted. Before we move back in I would expect that we will have cast the vision think in stone and be ready to execute. When we're over at HQ we'll meet in a corner of the cafeteria and it will be a very open door environment. Do you need a ride to the office?"

"That would be appreciated. One final question: my admin---salt of the earth... working for me hasn't helped her career."

"She comes with you at the appropriate level for an executive suite admin if you want her; not an issue. Let's go rattle some cages."

***

Bill's cubby hole had become a storage closet; he couldn't even get in the door. He smiled, made the rounds of a few folks he genuinely liked and respected and headed for the cafeteria. Thank God for WiFi and cell phones, he thought to himself. It was all he could do to suppress the cat-who-just-ate-the-canary grin that would say, "I know a hell of a lot more than you do".

Virginia, his HR person had vacated the terminated facility a couple of weeks earlier and was back at headquarters on some special assignment that no one else in HR either wanted to do or knew how to do. She joined Bill at his corner table just as he was finishing up a heads up to Valerie. Their chat had been short.

"Val? Pack up and get out of there---today. We're moving."

"Where to this time?"

"Back up here."

"How long do you think we'll be there?"

"Long term...I'll give you the details before lunch but let's just say we're out of the euthanasia business. What's your step grade again?"

"I'm a twelve, but that's your fault, that's all you're authorized. Senior VPs get a fourteen---there is no thirteen---executive suite is a fifteen."

"Still no interest in joining the exempt ranks?"

"Not on your life."

"With your seniority what's a step bump worth?"

"A new car...a damn nice new car."

"What about fifteen?"

"A new car and a new house at least in terms of monthly increase as it applies to a mortgage payment."




The Possibilities



"Start shopping, Val. Do not share this insight with anyone on the planet until...after lunch."

"Car shopping or house hunting?"

"Both."

"Oh, my!"

Bill turned his attention to Virginia the HR exec who had worked with him for six years. She was close to him in age and not unattractive. Had they not had to work together in a tough job he definitely would have at least tried to get in her pants...maybe more.

"Bill! I didn't expect you back so soon."

"How's your special project coming, Ginnie?"

"Mind numbing busy work. I'm being punished---or at least put in my place."

"The times they are a changing, Ginnie."

"So I've heard but you wouldn't know it from the deep shit hole I sit it. Not for publication, Bill, but I'm giving notice before the end of the week. I've enjoyed working with you in spite of the shitty work we've had to do but the 'queen bee' has it in for me and I'm not going anywhere in this company. It's time to move on to greener pastures."

"Have you accepted another offer?"

"Verbally...informally over the phone. It's a smaller company but the top job and actually more money. I'm going to miss working with you."

"Have you mailed off the written acceptance yet?"

"Nope, but it's sitting on my desk."

"Do you trust me, Ginnie?"

"More than anyone I've worked with...certainly more than any man I've ever met."

"Okay, then do not mail that letter of acceptance until after lunch. I cannot say anything past that—don't pry---just trust me?"

"Oh, Bill, you've got me all hot and bothered...but then you done that before, whether you knew it or not. Okay, I'll take it on faith. Got to get back to the manure pile."

The next visitor to Bill's new "office" was his young boss.

"Bill! I had no idea you were back up here. I'm really sorry about your office. If I'd known I would have had maintenance straighten it up. Is everything closed out where you've been?"

"That business unit is little more than a memory, Roger."

"Well things have been a little hectic around here with the new guy and all. I don't think any of us really now what we're going to be doing or if we'll still have a job. You've been around quite a while Bill and you certainly have some special talents. I'm sure you'll come out okay."

"If you had a chance to pick and choose, what would you like to do, Roger?"

"Bill, bluntly I don't realistically see a place for my current job in the new organization. I'm a glorified baby sitter—present company excepted, of course; you pretty much do your own thing and are low or no maintenance. The rest of my gaggle is all about pressing their own agendas and pet projects. It's as if someone decided to dump everyone that didn't seem to fit someplace else under me. I didn't get the sense that the new guy was enamored with me. There's nothing remotely functional about my department. I sooth egos, referee playground fights and at the end of the day have no sense that I've really done anything. If I get canned, I'll land on my feet somewhere."

"That's a very mature outlook, Roger. Do you realize that this is probably the most candid dialogue you and I have had in the last two years?"

"Bill, you a dream subordinate; you don't bitch or complain and you don't need any hand holding. As a result---coupled with the fact that your peers are a bunch of insecure prima donnas---I ignore you. It's not because I don't respect you and the crappy jobs you have to do. It's just that the squeaky wheel gets the oil and you never squeak."

"Roger you been a pretty low maintenance boss so I'm not complaining. Frankly, you're a little spineless and too often I think you end up going with the person who yells the loudest rather than the one who is right. Part of the problem, at least in my opinion, is that you don't have a good foundation in the core business. You came up pretty fast. I believe you have a good heart and want to do what's right. You've also got a decent intellect but possibly not quite enough seasoning to always know right from wrong. You're ethical and you treat people with respect. I'd hire you but in all likelihood send you back to the field to run a sales unit."

"We are being pretty candid, aren't we? I always assumed that you didn't have much respect for me---although you never showed it. I regret not spending more time in the field. It's hurt me both in terms of knowledge and instincts--- and respect."

"Hypothetically, Roger, if our roles were reversed, would you have a problem working for me?"

"Hell no, Bill! You know more about this business than almost anyone in the company. You handle awful assignments with dignity. You mentor and develop as well as anyone out there. I used to be pretty impressed with myself...big title...fast track. More and more I feel like an empty suit. I think I'd be a good field manager but that kind of move is unlikely. It's more likely that I'll be reviewing a severance package sooner rather than later. The fact that I am not invited to the 10:00 AM staff meeting pretty much serves as the hand writing on the wall. You've been around for a while...have you got any scuttlebutt?"

"I don't lie very convincingly, Roger but nor am I in a position to share much. A functional reorg shouldn't surprise anyone. It's the new guy's passion. Retire you clubs; there won't be any more corporate golf outings under Mike Kearing. For the record, if you could pick and choose, geographically, where would it be?"

"The southwest."

"Dallas?"

"In a heart beat."

"Family there?"

"Family, college, friends---my wife too. I've already contacted a head hunter there."

"Let's chat later in the morning, Roger."

"You're invited to the ten o'clock staff meeting, aren't you Bill?"

"Uh, huh."

"Is that good news or bad news for Roger?"

"I wasn't sure ten minutes ago before you sat down; I'll find you after the meeting and you'll have to decide but if I can get a couple of other pieces to fit I think you'll be okay with it."

"Am I going to be calling you boss?"

"No, just Bill. I need to chat with someone else I see coming this way. Roger---relax."

Roger departed and Jane Tilman joined Bill at his impromptu office. He'd always liked her and admired her feisty, take no prisoners style. She was an attractive woman a few years older than Bill was with a delightfully biting wit. She was a warrior...not unlike Bill.

"So, Bill, is this cafeteria table rumor central? I just got told that I'm to attend the staff meeting with the new emperor in fifteen minutes---and my boss will not be there. What the fuck, Bill?"

"You always were impatient, Jane. All will become clear in the next hour. CEOs do not call people to their offices to fire them---they have people like me do that. I would expect that the fact that you are part of the new inner sanctum means that...you are part of the new inner sanctum. You know more about every aspect of the business than anyone I know."

"You're going to be there too---aren't you?"

"You betcha."

"Anyone else I should know about?"

"I sense that you'll be pleased with your new peer group."

"You know the whole fucking line up don't you, you evil man?"

"Pretty much."

"Shall we head upstairs?"

"It's about time."

Bill had been to a handful of CEO level senior meetings; most were held in an expansive conference room with literally dozen of attendees. This one was to be a standup meeting in the CEOs office with little more than a handful of people. The CEO made brief introductions of those Bill didn't recognize: the newly created Chief of Staff, a lawyer he assumed Mike had brought with him and a finance type who obviously made the existing CFO who was in the room nervous. 

Mike Kearing explained the new functional structure. He clarified for the staff VPs present the role of the new CofS. He briefly outlines the vision he had for a unified executive suite. Then, to the chagrin of the staff officers present, he dismissed them to the charge of the new Chief of Staff, closed the door and addressed the key leaders who would lead distribution/logistics, manufacturing, M&A (the COO) and sales and marketing. These four individuals were to be his combatant commanders.

"Folks, the people that just left the room are no less important than you four are but they are staff. Not that they don't have people reporting to them---good, important people---but their role must always be advisory---because they differ from you four. They don't make or acquire product, the don't move or store product, they don't market and sell product and they don't acquire new products sources or market entries." He had eyeballed each individual as he addressed their specific areas of responsibility.

"You four have no one to pass the buck to other than me and buck passing doesn't sit well with me. You four need to be connected at the hip---you need to get along and work together. Bill can't market and sell it if Bud doesn't make or out-source it---but Bud has to know what to produce, when and how much. If Bud and Bill sneak off together and come up with new product it's all for naught if Jane isn't in the loop and prepared to pick it up, store it and deliver it to our customers. Jack Reynolds, our COO is a damn M&A genius but he's just spinning his wheels if he doesn't know where we need to vertically or horizontally integrate."

The CEO paused to let his words sink in. "Next point. I realize that by creating this structure I've already created a problem because there are functional overlaps. Folks---work it out. I don't expect duplication of effort. I didn't sign on to be a referee of political squabbles. You all have more than enough on your plate that there should be no need to increase your scope of responsibility. If you are truly struggling with figuring out where a given function fits---we'll all talk about it. I hope that the need for me to arbitrarily make those kinds of decisions will not come up often."

"Finally, the people that just left the room need to come back in because they are critical to our success. We have to attract and retain good people, run an ethical and legal business and exceed current accepted business accounting practices---but make no mistake: you four are in charge of this corporation's future, not them. At the same time you are all savvy enough to know that you can't do it without them.

"Okay, that's the end of my stern opening lecture; I don't give those very often. On another note, there are a number of personnel decisions that have to be---or already have been made. The former VP of HR is leaving the corporation to pursue other opportunities. The current CFO will be working exclusively with the COO in M&A at least as long as he is comfortable doing so and can make a valuable contribution. A new IT director will be on the premises by the end of the month. Jane, your boss is staying on in an advisory role as he segues into retirement---and he is not remotely unhappy about it. 

"I've spoken with all of you in enough detail to know that each of you have some tough calls to make. It is not my intent, per se to reduce executive head count but it doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out that we have a lot of people with VP titles running around this building. Some thoughts on that count:

"If you've got a good person but just don't have a real job for them, offer them up to your peers. If you have road blocks or incompetents, bite the bullet and get rid of them---don't pass them off. If they could function well at a lower level---offer them that opportunity. Don't let it get personal; if they're salvageable then be a leader and try to steer them right---but don't waste too much time. Now we all need to get back together...but where? 

"There's a park a couple of miles from here; I've taken the liberty of reserving a picnic site for noon. We're going to cook some food on a grill and spend a couple of hours connecting and conversing. The email to the world announcing the first changes is already sent. We may stay over there all afternoon. Try to take the first hour or so just getting acquainted before you tackle dividing up the spoils."

The staff came back in, the CEO made one trip round the room and then disappeared as did the Chief of Staff. There was an awkward silence. The COO broke the silence.

"And it's only Tuesday!" Everyone laughed and the tension was broken.

"Collaboration! What a novel idea!" Injected Bud, the head of manufacturing and sourcing.

"I for one couldn't be more pleased." Injected the COO. "I love this company to death but I was neither a good nor a happy Chief Operating Officer. I do know a few things after thirty years here so if I can be of any help to anyone---just ask."

"No ego problems, here." Added the soon to be former CFO. "I never got comfortable in the public role of CFO."

Jane chimed in. "Well. As I see it, old Dr. Doom over there has the biggest pile of shit to dig out of."

"You got that right." Came a chorus of voices as all turned toward Bill.

Bill spoke. "Well, I've developed a certain knack for dismantling businesses; let's hope I can figure out how to actually build one and make it work. The man got it right: we all sink or swim together. Sadly it looks like I've got a bit of 'terminator' work to do first--- hopefully not too much but after ten years as the undertaker I'm so damn excited I almost wet my pants. In closing let me just say...wow!"

Bill grabbed the arm of the new VP of HR on the way out. "Have you got a sec, Ginnie?"

"For you Bill, there is very little I wouldn't do...literally. Thanks for the heads up. How can I help?"

"I need a Vice President of Sales, reporting to me with the seven Field Sales VPs reporting to him. I'm leaning toward Mike Fernandez in Dallas. Do I have to post at that level or go outside and advertise?"

"Under current corporate HR policy---yes. Then again at that level it's been bent before. Is he senior?"

"Other than the guy in LA and that one is not a candidate for anything other than early retirement."

"Would this be a new position?"

"Technically, yes. They previously reported to the COO but he never did anything with them. Three of them are far too junior and two others are on thin ice from my perspective."

"Legally there really isn't an issue. I hate to sound like an HR person but it doesn't hurt that he is Hispanic. Hell, I guess I pretty much set HR policy as of this morning. I'll end you a memo covering our conversation and include a copy of the new corporate HR policy in that area as soon as I get it written."

Bill saw Jack Reynolds the COO lingering and went to him. "If you've got a minute I'd like to take you up on your offer of help. You put together the acquisition of Mike Fernandez's company down in Dallas and I've always sensed that you know him pretty well. Is there any reason at all that I shouldn't ask him to come up here as VP of Sales over the field?"

"First, I'm honored that you'd ask me since I've never paid much attention to you, Bill. It was never personal, I just didn't like what you did for a living...confused the job with the man. I apologize. Secondly, you don't screw around, do you? Third, it would be a brilliant choice. He's always done his own thing even though what he does is BDP over any other field sales organization. I had always hoped with that acquisition that we could spread a healthy dose of his business practice across the rest of the organization. He wouldn't leave Dallas...kids in school and all. But the timing might be right on. His youngest starts college in a month---and all three chose schools in the Midwest...Notre Dame, Northwestern and OSU. 

"Bluntly, while I respect the guy a lot if he balks you might have to let him go which would be a shame in view of his business acumen. Hell, he's still running his own company down there. A stint up here would be excellent for his corporate education. Bill, if he calls me---with your permission of course---I'll make it clear that your offer is not negotiable?"

"Let's hope it doesn't get to that but I appreciate your support in advance."

Bill went back to the area where his former boss and his minions hung out. He didn't have an office but he needed a desk and a phone. A pretty young blond admin caught his eye and handed him a stack of messages. The word was out; he needed to return one of those calls immediately. Miraculously an open office had become available. He called the Dallas office, surprised when Mike Fernandez answered the phone himself.

"Congratulations, Bill! I guess I'm safe in assuming you're my new boss?"

"Something like that, Mike. I'm on a pretty tight schedule here but your are the first person whose call I returned---and the only one I plan to until later in the day. You are head and shoulders above your contemporaries, certainly BDP in sales process." 

"I appreciate your kind words."

"Now for the unkind words, Mike. You have the worst case of silo mentality I know of; you do exactly what you want, ignore corporate and neither share your toys nor play well with the other field VPs. I'm really faced with only two choices; your former boss, Jack agrees---as a matter of fact he suggested it. I either have to fire your ass or promote you. I prefer the latter. 

"I'd like you to accept the position of Corporate Vice President of Sales, reporting to me and directly over the seven field VPs. I would remind you that we are an hour commercial air to Northwestern---thirty-seven minutes by corporate jet and we virtually shuttle daily to Chicago. We are less than four hours by car to Notre Dame---and a twenty minute drive to The Ohio State University campus. I need a quick answer."

"You're damned near as blunt as I am partner. Put me on hold and let me talk to the wife. I'm going to miss running my own show but..."

"You're going to have a bigger show to run up here. I don't have time for micro management and marketing is totally fucked up and needs a lot of work. I need a strong, no nonsense leader. I need consistent sales process across the corporation. With a few exceptions what you do down in Texas works. The other VPs can't BS you."

"I'll call you back in ten minutes. Do I get to name my successor?"

"Nope. I have a candidate in mind unless you have violent objections...my former boss, Roger."

"He looks the part but I always sensed he was a little...spineless?"

"Yeah, me to, but he's got a decent brain and the charisma to pull it off until he learns the job---and you'll have your thumb on him and won't let him screw anything up."

"Sure. He's okay; he'll learn a lot down here and he won't be able to screw it up. Okay. How soon?"

"Yesterday."

"Ten minutes, chief."

Bill went to find Roger. He found him talking to the pretty young admin.

"Bill! Listen, I figured you might need some admin support until Ginnie gets back; Rebecca here is at your service."

"Great! Roger, we need to chat. Give me a sec to get a couple of admin details taken care of. Rebecca can you pull up some sort of standard boiler plate job offer and acceptance letters?"

"Yes sir. There are several to choose from."

"Rebecca, just pick the least obnoxious ones. I need...go ahead and take that call."

Rebecca did so. "It's for you, sir, it's Mr. Fernandez in Dallas; I can't transfer it to..."

"Let me just take the phone from you right here, Rebecca."

"Mike?"

"Bill! Yes."

"Good. Later."

"Okay...where was I. I need two letters one to Mike Fernandez confirming his acceptance of the offer to become Corporate VP of Sales. I also need a second one to this individual here that I jotted down offering him the position of Southwestern VP of Field Sales. Fax, email and mail the first one, I'll wait for the second one."

Rebecca smiled; she was already entering data into her keyboard. A few seconds later she handed him the second letter. Roger was standing a few yards away. Bill walked over to him and handed him the formal offer.




The Possibilities



"Do you need to sleep on it, Roger?"

"Not on your life. When?"

"Yesterday! Now I've got to go to a picnic."

"What?"

"It's a long story; we'll chat."

As one would expect there were rocky moments, more than a couple of knock-down drag out fights but all in all the CEO had picked the right people---people who knew the business and respected each other. Bill decided to let Mike Fernandez work with his charges for a while before making any drastic changes. Surprisingly a couple who had seemed deficient came around under good leadership; only one had to be severed. And one accepted an early retirement package.

Marketing was another matter; the top two were gone almost overnight. One had a history of questionable behavior with female subordinates. The other, the titular head of Marketing was a do nothing empty shirt who had made his mark by taking over well run departments and destroying them. Both were out the door within three days. Several of the people they had promoted were far less qualified than people under them. Fortunately they knew it and accepted lower positions. 

An extremely talented woman who had been driven out of marketing a couple of years earlier by the "good old boy" system was brought back to take it over. While Mike Fernandez easily out weighed her by a hundred pounds and stood eight inches taller, they were equally matched in grit and tenacity. They battled often; fortunately they had come to respect each other over the years. It occurred to Bill that had they been husband and wife the makeup sex would have been cosmic.

There were surprisingly few turf battles; as the CEO had pointed out they all had enough on their plate and didn't need to build their empires. The only real disagreement which bubbled up to Mike Kearing was anything but a turf battle and far from personal. They literally were stuck on the issue of where training should reside, whether there should be a single training entity, what level of training should reside within the major departments assisted by corporate resources and at what point training became an overall corporate function. Even at that the participants were not miles apart, just differed on the details.

Mike had resisted creating a new, independent training directorate and he hated matrix management relationships. Each of the four principals wanted to control training for their people. HR always thinks they should run training in spite of the fact that they have little real world experience in the various business disciplines. Within Bill's world, Sales wanted to control rep training but Marketing expected to develop product and program specific training tools. Distribution and Manufacturing felt competent to conduct their own training but needed resources. The old COO who had no real dog in the fight came up with a compromise that everyone agreed to try. In the end, everyone had to bend---including the CEO.

"The issue in training has always been finding the right people, people who have actually done the job and done it well---and have the skill sets to be good trainers. Without real world knowledge and experience the trainer gets no respect. We've all been in a training session in which the person at the front of the room knows no more than what is written on the lesson plan. Why not make training a career path stop? Having a stable of folks who have done training in a formal setting would pay huge dividends down the road. Look, we're trying to do the same thing with HR, legal and finance---why not training?"

"It's essentially a staff function." Injected the Chief of Staff. "Put it under me. I know you don't want this worm to grow out of proportion, Mike, but training is important enough that it needs its own voice. But we don't need to increase head count---the rest of you need to provide the staffing; you've all got good training people in your worlds. If people understand that it's a temporary move, not a lock in----and after a suitable interval they return to their preferred worlds with no loss of advancement potential---they'll be fine with it. On the other hand, for those that really have an affinity for it there needs to be a career path."

Miraculously they all agreed on who should head up the new training entity and no one grumbled about funding or staffing. Another crisis averted. People began to accept and even appreciate the new structure. People in the field could get answers quickly. People knew who was in charge of what and at least for the foreseeable future the investor community and the customer base were pleased.

Bill somehow found time to move; he bought a house and a few acres not twenty minutes from the office. He finally could have a dog. Fearing one dog would become lonely, he got two. As the first few months zipped by work became less hectic and his thoughts turned back to his life...or lack thereof. The book the CEO had given him was still in his brief case; he decided to call the publisher and inquire.

"Hi, I'm not sure who I need to talk to. My name is Bill Shilling and I very much enjoyed a book by one of your authors, Mary Lantine, and wanted to find out if she had anything else in print and where I could buy it or them."

"Well, Bill thank you for calling! We are a very small publishing firm, more or less a one man---or woman---operation. That would be me, Martha Bennett. In answer to your question, while Mary had completed another book it's not in publication yet. We recently entered into an agreement with a major book chain. As a matter of fact Mary is out on the road right now visiting their outlets for book signings. Where are you located? I can check her schedule and see if she's going to be attending a signing at a store near where you are."

Bill told her. "You're in luck! Mary will be signing books close to where you are...tomorrow afternoon from one to three. Let me give you the name and address of the store."

Bill knew where the store was; it was a major national book chain. It was located five minutes from his office and barely fifteen from his home. He checked his calendar, rescheduled one small meeting and blocked out the time.

Mary Lantine was not yet a best selling author so folks were not lined up in front of the small table next to the coffee shop at the book store. Bill grabbed a new copy of her novel and approached her; she turned and smiled. His heart stopped for an instant; his breath caught in his throat. It was the sea green eyes...a smile at first and then a look of confusion.

"Elaine?"

"Yes?" Not yet full recognition...uncertainty.

"You probably don't remember me, we went to..."

"Bill?"

"Bill."

"I remember you Bill...I remember you very well."

"Mary Lantine?"

"An anagram of my...maiden name: Elaine Martin."

"Your maiden name...of course. I always assumed that you and Russ..."

"We did right after I graduated; we moved back home...we were married for ten years...no children. Divorced six years...a very long story which I don't enjoy telling. Russ has since passed on."

"I'm very sorry."

"A product of genetics and his chosen lifestyle." Mary intoned with just a hint of sorrow and a tinge of bitterness. "How about you?"

"I was married...no children...divorced about the same length of time."

"The last time I remember talking to you was..."

"At the Hut...we sat together and talked for an hour or so."

"I remember it as if it was yesterday. You live near here?"

"My office is five minutes away and my home fifteen."

"How long are you in town for, Elaine?"

"I have another signing a couple of hundred miles from here tomorrow evening. I was going to hit the road---or at least head for the airport--- as soon as I'm done here at three..."

"Don't. Stay over...we could have dinner...catch up."

"I don't have a place to stay and expenses are pretty tight."

"I have more room than I know what to do with; you're welcome to stay at my house---you can even have your own floor...unless you'd be uncomfortable. Do you have a car?"

"The book store picked me up at the airport."

"I need to get back to work and clear my schedule. I'll come back and pick you up at three o'clock sharp."

"Okay. I'll be here."

"Great!"

"Would you like me to sign your book...I hope you enjoy it...I..."

"I've already read it...several times. My boss lent me his copy. Why don't you sign it while I'm gone...as Elaine Martin, not Mary Lantine? I'll pay for it when I come back. Actually, I'm going to buy two. Here's my boss's name---he loves your work. If you could sign that one now, I'll take it back with me and give it to him."

"You got it!"

Bill was walking on air ten minutes later when he walked back into his office. Mike Kearing was unencumbered; Bill walked up to him and wordlessly handed him the book.

"Wow! I had no idea she was in town---and you got it signed! 'Take good care of my special friend Bill and thank you for your support.' You know this lady?"

"It's a very small world, Mike." Bill said, briefly bringing the CEO up to speed. "As a matter of fact I'm going to juggle my schedule this afternoon and go meet her when she's done at the signing. "

"Did you and she have something back in high school?"

"Yes and no?" And again Bill gave his boss a brief synopsis of the hour he and Elaine had spent together so many years ago.

"Anything I can help you with as far as your calendar for the rest of the day? Hell it is Friday."

You and I were scheduled at 3:30 PM---update on the proposed 'take down' of the facility in Jersey. Since I retired from grave digging we really don't have a resident funeral director. I'm thinking we may need to set up a duty roster---like a military notification of next of kin detail roster--- for this kind of stuff. I put together a training manual---lessons learned. It's nasty work but it's educational and enlightening. It might just be a good thing for our up and coming managers to go through the experience at least once. I'm thinking of sending young Roger out there to handle it. He's adapted remarkably well in Dallas and Mike knows that business well enough to keep an eye on things in his absence. What do you think?"

"I like it---like it a lot! That work taught me to care about people...grounded me...humbled me...honed my sense of compassion---and toughness. I look back on it kind of the same way I look back on that Asian cluster-fuck you and I were both involved in. I hated parts of it but I'm a better man for it. Go with it! He'll need a team---share the 'wealth' with your peers so he has the best people possible. And that would appear to take care of our 3:30 PM meeting! Now get out of here."

As Elaine settled into the leather seat beside him for the short drive to his house Bill was in a very unnerved state with which he had little experience. He was flustered. He thought he should make small talk. He wanted to say so much more. He snuck a glance at her...her skirt has slid up and he could just glimpse a bit of thigh....stocking tops. Her scent crept into his consciousness. His cock stirred; the confinement was uncomfortable but the sense of arousal exhilarating. He wanted her as he had never wanted any woman in his life. He wanted her body...every nook and crevice...he wanted her heart. He wanted to profess his undying love to her...tell her those words that he had thought about for so many years. Where to begin? She wasn't really helping; she was silent. What was she thinking? Did she have feelings for him?

He opened her door for her...another even more alluring glimpse of thigh. She was standing very close to him...well inside his personal space. As if a giant hand had pushed them together they were in each others arms...their lips pressed together...probing...testing...their bodies connected...their collective heat building...their hands roamed...they whimpered...the die was cast. They somehow made it inside the house; a brief interlude to settle the pups who were displeased to be left outside but accepted their fate. Clothing fell as they moved toward the first floor bedroom. 

Twenty-two years of wondering, wishing and imagining left little room for preliminaries. She wanted him inside her; he quickly obliged. They were in that instant a single entity connected by every fiber of their being. They wept...sobbed...they giggled almost uncontrollably. They grinned likes little children on Christmas morning. Each heart reached out for the other latched on and vowed never to let go as long as they remained beating. All sense of caution, fear, uncertainty and insecurity vanished. They each said the three special words over and over with no inhibition or fear of failure. In the bliss of post-coital tenderness they held on to each other almost desperately, praying that what had just happened was more than a dream. Elaine spoke first.

"I was a virgin that evening you sat down with me at the Hut. You could have had me that night, Bill...I wanted you like no boy or man I had ever met...ever have met. I knew it wasn't to be. You were off to find your fortune; I was, from the female perspective, terribly insecure and unsure of myself. I didn't really understand back then why boys didn't flirt with me...ask me out. You wanted me that night---didn't you Bill?"

"Like no woman before or since. I was eighteen and stupid; you were Russ's girl. I had no intention of ever coming back there to live. Later I even wrote out the speech I wish I'd delivered."

"Do you still have that speech?"

"Not on paper but it's engraved on my mind and my heart. Give me some time and I'll get the courage up to deliver the words I should have delivered twenty-two years ago."

"Russ was always a lot of fun. He made me laugh. He was the first boy who paid any attention to me. He never really tried to get in my pants. I found out years later---after we were married---that my pants weren't the kind he preferred to get into. I went back and taught school and tried to write. Russ couldn't produce the required product for children...not that our love life was particular frequent nor exciting.

"My parents ended up buying us a house on the same street as theirs. I woke up one day and figured it out. I filed for divorce; Russ didn't fight it...signed the papers without reading them. The town was aghast. Everyone loved Russ...what was Elaine's problem? I never went public about his indiscretions---but Christ, it's a small town, people had to know. I moved about fifty miles away; I've since moved three more times---a little farther away each time. I don't care for where I am now...don't know where I belong."

"You belong with me, Elaine now and forever. You always did; life just got in the way and delayed it a few years. College didn't turn out the way I planned the first time through. The military and the war were an unplanned interruption. My marriage? Two lonely people who didn't belong together---couldn't grow together. I've spent the last decade of my corporate career doing shitty work, traveling constantly, relocating every few months. I always thought about you; I figured you and Russ had gotten married and were living happily ever after---at least that was the impression I got when an old friend from up there looked me up a number of years back and I asked about you."

"Small world, Bill."

"I used to buy that answer but it's all too strange to be coincidence or accidental. A man I had just met---my current boss---handed me a book one night after we had shared a couple of bottles of wine together. He shared your book because I had told him that I too enjoyed writing, stuff not that far removed from what you write. I'd never told anyone that I knew what I enjoyed writing. I was as captivated by your words as he was. 

"Yesterday, I happened to see the book in my brief case; it's been a busy few months but I had a free moment so I called your publisher---the day before you were going to be here? Sorry, call it serendipity, fate or design but you are right this minute where you've always belonged...in my arms and you are not getting away from me twice in this lifetime. Any questions?"

"Just one. Tell me what you wrote...what you wished you had said to be that night twenty-two years ago."

"Okay. I'll give you the short version slightly abridged only because we've already covered some of the events of the past twenty-two years...here goes: 

"Elaine, your are the brightest, cutest most interesting girl---no, woman---I've ever met. You excite me at this instant like no one I've ever been with. Someday when I have my life together, I'm going to come find you. Hopefully you'll be available. If you are single, then I will ask you to marry me, you'll say yes of course and you and I will live happily ever after---together. And I will love you and make love to you like no man on this earth could ever do---totally, absolutely and completely---you and no other but you until I die. Any questions?"

"That's amazingly sweet, Bill. We hardly knew each other. Twenty-two years is a very long time. How can you be so sure twenty-two years after an improbably conversation that hardly lasted an hour?"

"Do you have any doubts?"

"Not fair! I asked first. Life has given me a pretty thick skin; I'm still a terribly grounded and practical girl."

"And I'm not prone to flights of fancy. I did fall in love with you that night. I also fell in love several months go with Mary Lantine---lucky me! Same girl! We connected that night; I never really understood it. I was always fascinated with you---all the way back to when you were in the seventh grade and I first met you. We bumped up against each other throughout high school; we were in a number of activities together---not always accidentally on my part. We grew up in the same little world. I wanted to ask you out...you dad scared the shit out of me. I worshipped you from afar but could never get the courage to tell you. By the time I finally did it was too late. You were always sweet, kind and caring. You were smart; you had a quick wit.

"Now as I'm lying here with your delightfully naked body pressed tightly against me---you always turned me on in your cheer leading outfit---I can't imagine having any other woman in my arms---ever. Plus---at least for me---and you know how guys are, making love with you was beyond anything I could have imagined."

"Actually it was far more an amazingly satisfying and terribly urgent fuck but you can take a shot at making love to me later. I still have that cheer leading outfit, Bill but I don't travel with it. It still fits; I did have to take out the seat a little." They were becoming playful.

"I love your seat---always did."

"I caught you checking out my tush on more than one occasion...I always figured you for an ass man."

His hand had strayed to the subject of their conversation. Wordlessly he rolled her on her back and moved his mouth down her body toward her special place, cupping her amazing rump in his strong hands. She came quickly, whimpering as the arousal built, gasping when the crescendo hit her. She pushed him on his back and allowed her full lips to trace the same route on his body that his had taken on hers. She teased with her lips and tongue...grinning...caressing his sack with her warm hands, tantalizing him agonizingly with her talented mouth. As she tired of the game and sensed that he could stand no more, she engulfed his hard prick and brought him to a screaming orgasm in a matter of seconds. Swallowing his salty load she nuzzled his crotch and hard stomach. He pulled her up and kissed her...probing...touching...caressing.

To her surprise and delight it took only a few minutes of hand work and Bill was again erect. Another quick trip inside her hot little mouth and the deed was done. Moving up on her knees she rolled her exquisite rump inches from his face, reaching back with her fingers, and inserting them inside her steamy slot, encouraging him...spurring him on...showing him what she wanted...needed. He mounted her and made her his again in a single deep thrust, laying claim to her perfect body...asserting his possession of it.




The Possibilities



He rode her hard and deep, grunting like a rutting stag servicing a Spring doe. He pushed her flat against the mattress, surrounding her soft body with his own muscular one, trapping her so that she could not escape...as if she had any inclination to do so. His mouth made love to her neck and her shoulders; his hands reached below and found her turgid nipples. She came in waves, a series of short interludes ending with a final, agonizingly long, crashing, screaming orgasm. He filled her with his essence with one final, deep thrust. She was his now; there could be no doubt...no question. She knew it too. He had answered her question without words. No other man could or would ever be inside her...could or would ever please her...satisfy her so completely.

"Good answer." She had whispered, then giggled. "No doubts; none what so ever. I am yours...now and forever."

"I'm glad that's settled."

"Oh yeah...it's pretty amazing what twenty-two years of wondering can do."

They dozed off; they showered together which of course ended up in more play time which then ended up back in bed. They explored each other in infinite detail...found each others special zones...and then they made love tenderly but passionately and any remaining vestige of doubt was completely swept away. They donned limited clothing as darkness fell to contemplate dinner and for Elaine to have a chance to meet the pups who of course instantly fell in love with her. Real life intruded.

"I can't bail on this book tour, Bill. At this very second I never want to live another day without you but this book is such an important part of my life. It's my heart and soul on display and people are just starting to discover it."

"Elaine, I understand; I wouldn't expect you to do anything else. I'm not in any position to drop what I'm doing and go on the road with you."

"Do you enjoy your job?"

"For the first time in fourteen years I absolutely love it. I love the people I work with and I'm making a difference---building something of value. You said you don't really belong anywhere---geographically. I think I belong here. It's got a lot of the good points of where we grew up with little, if any of the down side. We're thirty minutes from a respected university. The winters are no where near as long and miserable as where we grew up. We're half and hour from an major airport---not two hours."

"What about your writing---and when do I get to read it?"

I haven't done much writing for a few months but things are settling down so I plan to get back to it."

"Will you have to relocate again?"

"Not remotely likely. Even if things didn't work out with my current company there are ample opportunities in the area. I've got decent savings and if worse came to worse could retire early."

"What about...babies?"

"Always wanted them...want them with you; you are, being practical for a moment approaching a high risk point as far as child bearing goes...are you sure?"

"I'd like to try."

"That sounds like fun."

"You men---it's all you ever think of...thank goodness! Do you have to travel much?"

"Not remotely like I used to. There are always trips and meetings in the corporate world but I have some degree of control over it."

"Bill, I'm not teaching any more; for the past year I'm living for the book and getting by on savings and the limited generosity and financial means of my publisher. Money can become an issue...it was one of many between Russ and me."

"Elaine, assuming that it is what you want I'd be real happy if you devoted your time in two areas, writing and selling your work---and having and raising our family."

"I'd like that; I spent too many years as the primary---often only---bread winner so I guess I'm conditioned that way. Are you sure?"

"I don't have any expensive habits, Elaine other than occasional decent bottle of wine. I think we'll do just fine."

"Well drag out a decent bottle of wine and let's see if we can scrape together dinner without going out. I don't feel like getting dressed and while hungry, I'm not remotely done abusing your body. Fair enough?"

"You women! You see us as little more than sex objects!"

Elaine moved in close to him and found his cock. "My God, are you taking medication? You're hard again."

"It's all your fault, dear heart."

"Oh well, I suppose we'll have to take care of that before we eat." To Bill's surprise and glee Elaine, extended her leg and placed it on the kitchen counter, turning her back toward him. "All the flexibility from cheerleading...never really lost it. Bill, I've accumulated twenty-two years of...bluntly, horniness for want of a better word. I was married to a man who went through the motions---infrequently---because I was not of the gender he preferred. Since then it's been pretty slim pickings. 

"Now, to my delight, I find this devilishly handsome man who has been secretly in love with me for twenty-two years and can't keep his hands off me. Fuck me Bill, right here in the kitchen. And whether it's next week, next year or next century, fuck me any time you feel the urge. I will always be in the mood and I don't get headaches. I don't care what I'm doing or the time of day---you have unleashed a monster. Fuck me Bill."

Bill went down on his haunches and lavished her tight little slot and sweet little rear with special attention.

"Dirty...nasty man...oh damn...yeah...put your tongue in there...fuck me with your tongue. Oh shit...Bill...do you want my ass Bill? The one you drooled over back in high school? Are you an anal kind of guy Bill? You can have it Bill...just let me get used to it. No, you can't just have it...I want you there!" 

Elaine searched the counter with her eyes and found what she was looking for. Virgin olive oil in a quaint little clay jug. Turning she poured a liberal helping on Bill's cock and rubbed its length with her hands. Pouring a healthy amount in her cupped hand she oiled the appropriate entrance. Bill tested and explored with his fingers. Soon the bulbous head of his fat cock was inside her, then more...then all of it. Elaine again placed her outstretched leg on the counter, rubbing one oily mitt on her perfect breasts as the other found her magic button. Fortunately neither slipped on the now oily floor. Both came quickly; Elaine came a second time just as Bill emptied his balls inside her tight little chute.

"Wow." Elaine said in a hoarse whisper. "That was delightfully nasty, filthy, dirty and perverted. Let's try that more often. What would my mother think?"

"Yeah, that worked."

"So, now I guess we need to clean up this mess and cook something. That little episode wasn't too slutty for you---was it Bill?"

"Let's see, I'm planning to spend the rest of my life with a woman who makes me dizzy just walking into a room, who loves to fuck, sucks cock with abandon---and swallows--- and now I discover that, on occasion, she likes it up the ass? You've got to be kidding me. Never in my wildest dreams did it occur to me that sweet, prim little Elaine grew up to be delightfully uninhibited and wonderfully slutty. And now she's my girl? Hell I must have died and gone to heaven."

Elaine kissed him. "Your little slut and no one else's...our little family secret. I'm a little giddy right now Bill, I've never had a man want me and desire me the way you do---don't ever stop. I've never had a chance to be one very special man's little slut---a man who loves me, respects me...cares for me. 

"I don't want to belabor the point but I spent ten years married to a man I thought loved me---and I think he did in his own way. But romance---the physical part, sex---wasn't part of it. Look, I started writing to get off, figuratively. I've got the last twenty-two years to make up for in terms of physical love. It's been the missing element and I intend to make up for lost time---with you. I intend to fuck you until your balls ache---until you couldn't cum again if your life depended on it. Any questions?"

"I think it sounds like a workable plan."