Citizen Girl (33 page)

‘Let’s hear it,’ she mutters humorlessly into the room.

Jeffrey chuckles as if she’s just made a funny. ‘Now, this would, of course, be more organic if you were with us—’

‘Like you promised yesterday, Kat,’ Guy interjects, scowling in my direction.

‘Neither here nor there!’ Jeffrey breezes over him. ‘Anyhow, we’ve all gathered together to tackle making the Bovary Muffin campaign. Rex couldn’t be here, but he’s standing by, dying to know what you think of our plans.’

‘I’m sure.’

‘And, Kat, you should see it, the room is bubbling, just
bubbling over
with ideas. Okay, okay, one at a time now, everyone will be heard. Yes … you!’ He violently beckons a woman seated a few rows back, sending her racing to the front, gripping her flashcard.

‘Hi, I’m Marsha. I …’ she scans the card, ‘have a doctorate. A doctorate?’ Jeffrey glares. ‘A doctorate. In marketing and … human sexuality?’

Jeffrey proceeds to orchestrate, pointing at different employees, who must scramble over each other to make it up to the table, where he pushes them inches from the speaker to perform stilted recitations of his ‘ideas’. The floor rapidly descends into muffled chaos as everyone readies for Jeffrey’s summons in the minefield of densely packed chairs. But when he suddenly asks for ‘our thoughts’, everyone freezes, frantically looking on both sides of our cards and then wordlessly at each other, unclear if we’re actually supposed to give them.

‘Jeffrey.’

‘Yes, Kat?’

‘It’s over.’ Finally. ‘We’re going in another direction.’

Jeffrey opens his mouth and then closes it.

Guy blanches. ‘What direction – why?’

‘Because Rex is a prick. Because I don’t need consultants. You can pass that along for me, can’t you?’

‘Is this a joke?’ Guy asks, his forehead glistening.

‘
Obscenely
early in the morning for jokes. Just tell Rex he can go fuck himself.’ A clumsy clamor to hang up is followed by a droning dial tone, cut to silence by Guy slamming his hand down on the dial pad.

Everyone sits perfectly still, their collective breath held.

Suddenly the air is broken by a slap as Guy stands, clapping loudly in sardonic applause. Slap. In Jeffrey’s face. Slap. Slap. Out at us. ‘Way to go, people! Nice work! Really, just
really great work
!’ He drops his hands, his face reddening as Jeffrey assumes the amused expression of someone watching a growling puppy. ‘
I’m
doing everything I can to keep this fucking company
afloat
and you fucking jerkoffs can’t pull it off for
one lousy meeting
?!’ he spits in fury. ‘It’s a team effort here, kids. Get your shit together!’ He storms to his office, slamming the door with such rage the entire wall of glass shakes. Oh-kay.

Everyone looks abashed except Jeffrey, who gently tugs his trousers and takes a seat. Abruptly the door flies open again. ‘Here’s the plan!’ Guy bounds back up the center aisle with evangelical conviction. ‘Folks, I need you all to
hunker down
. We’re a consulting company. So act like consultants.’ He paces back and forth while we, a tech-shop and a feminist, wait for an explanation. ‘Come up with three new client leads.
At least
three leads – each – and email them to me by the end of the day. I’ll give … a thousand-dollar bonus to the first lead that goes somewhere.’ He looks around, wild-eyed. ‘Stop sitting
around waiting for me to fucking fix this! Get on the phone and network! Call your parents, your college roommates,
your fucking camp counselors
, and get me those leads.
Now!!
’

Chairs squeak against the cement as people quickly dart to their desks. ‘You.’ Guy points to me with one arm and then extends another at Jeffrey, ‘And you. And Stacey, in my office.’

‘Yes, sir.’ Jeffrey smiles wryly at Guy’s departing back. Stooping to retrieve his briefcase, he clicks it open, slides in his blue binder, then snaps it neatly shut. ‘After you, mademoiselle.’ He takes a tiny bow and waves me on. My head throbbing with each step, I follow Stacey into Guy’s office.

‘Girl, what the
fuck
did you do to
fuck
this up?!’

‘Nothing! Guy, nothing. I did
exactly
what you told me to do. I went there. I kept her company—’

‘
And?!
’

‘And Muffin made a cogent case for why we were unnecessary.’

‘And you didn’t counter it?!’

Oh, Jesus, that’s ridiculous. With what, a blowjob? ‘Guy,’ I fight not to get sucked into his hysteria, ‘Rex couldn’t be bothered to get out of his chair. Can you really blame her?’

‘Come on, Girl, she’s a businesswoman,’ he scoffs. ‘She doesn’t have your pathetic hang-ups. Know what? It doesn’t even matter. I just need to get our shit together.’ He claps his hands as if expecting a huddle. ‘All right, Girl was too obvious. We’ll get
her
all sexed up.’ Guy
points at Stacey. ‘Throw her in some of this stuff.’ He rifles the lacy piles of Bovary samples on his desk. ‘Kat digs the whole hard-to-get thing.’

Stacey steps forward, finally called to arms.

‘Sure.’ Jeffrey glances at his watch and shrugs. ‘Whatever suits your fancy …’

Guy shakes his head in disbelief. ‘Jeff, man, I gotta tell ya, you’re doing a
shit
job. Just an
absolute shit
job.’ He pops open a can of Coke from his desktop and takes a swig. ‘Frankly, I didn’t really think we needed you, but I’ve gone along out of respect for Rex.’ He wipes away the foamy crest from his upper lip. ‘But you better figure out how you’re going to explain what just happened out there, my friend. Step it up or I’m gonna hafta kick you to the curb.’

‘You arrogant little prick,’ Jeffrey hisses. ‘This was a
tourist trip
for me.’ He studies his cuticles before looking up with a thin smile. ‘Your seat is for sale, my friend. So you stumbled onto a half-good idea? You’re about as equipped to run this launch as she is.’ He nods at me. True. ‘If you’d actually gotten Kat’s paw-print on the dotted line, who do you think they were lining up for the lift-off? A wet-behind-the-ears junior, two years out of b-school? Really?’ Jeffrey straightens his tie. ‘Please thank Rex for the lovely look round, but I’m going to have to pass.’ He strides to the doorway. ‘And, Guy? The cocky thing is adorable, but it’s only going to keep you the flavor of the month for so long. I’d learn some manners if I were you.’

The three of us watch through the glass as Jeffrey exits MC, Inc. Call me.

I turn back into the room, my eyes landing on Guy’s. ‘Puh,’ he exhales sharply, forcing a smile. ‘What a royal asshole.’ The vein pulsing in his neck, he turns to the windows.

‘Guy—’

‘Leave.’

I follow Stacey down the steps as Rex strides across the company floor towards us.

‘Before you go in,’ I reach out to stop him in a Hail Mary pass. ‘We need to talk about this Magdalene donation. MC pledged the money, which means The Bank pledged the money—’

‘This isn’t appropriate right now.’ One foot on a stair, he pauses to face me for only the second time since he banished me to The Club’s ladies’ room. For a moment I balk, feeling the solid force of institution behind him.

‘The Bank has to make good on this.’

‘I just came from a meeting. It’s on the table,’ he says firmly.

‘What
exactly
should I tell them?’

‘Stall for twenty-four hours.’

He reaches for the knob, his broad back filling Guy’s doorway to address the wet-behind-the-ears junior. ‘So, I passed Jeffrey on his way out.’ I remain rooted for Guy’s pending admonishment. ‘Let’s not sweat it. Onto Plan B.’ With a wolfish smile, Rex kicks the door shut with his loafer.

After fifteen hours of dead sleep I return at nine the next morning with only two hours remaining on Rex’s stall
clock. The phone rings, Julia’s number flashing up once more from the caller-ID. I remain motionless until it stops. Hello, Vice President of Stalling.
Ring … Ring … Ring
. Buster’s number pops up again – no doubt leaving yet another jovial voice mail. Hello, Vice President of Stalling. I don’t even know what to say to him. I don’t even know where to begin.

‘Heading to the training? Everyone’s gotta be there.’ Humming, Guy raps his knuckles on my desk as he passes, the apocalypse of yesterday visibly lifted from his shoulders.

‘What’s this training for? The email was a little vague.’

‘Jesus, why does everything have to be such a song and dance with you?’

‘It doesn’t. Is Rex coming in?’

Ignoring me, he bounds away to the horseshoe of chairs, still set up from the aborted ‘brainstorming’. I pop two TUMS and follow as employees straggle in apprehensively, cups of coffee in hand. Guy takes his place before his congregation and, one eye on my watch, I slide into a seat.

‘Hey, folks, good to see you this morning.’ Guy addresses us with the mellow charm of someone who’s just returned from a week in the islands. ‘I know we had a rough ride yesterday and I’ve heard that some of you are having concerns about our future. The truth is, you have
nothing
to worry about. I’m telling you My Company will be
just fine
.I
promise
. We’re
family
! We
fight
like family. I had a rough day, but I know you’ll give me rope, just like I give it to you.’

A hand darts up.

‘Yeah?’

‘We were wondering if the lead bonus still stands?’

‘The what?’ Guy squints.

‘Yesterday you said that there’d be a thousand dollars for the first lead that turns up business,’ a second voice adds.

‘Yeah, the thing is, Stan, I don’t really feel all that comfortable paying you extra for work that isn’t extra. Drumming up leads is what consultants do. So, enough heavy stuff! Okay—’

‘Then you’re not still giving the bonus?’ another voice pipes from the back.

‘No. I don’t know. Whatever, let’s move on. So I’m going to hand it over to Lyle and Lynn.’ Guy claps his hands together with a big smile before retreating to a table at the back.

Lyle and Lynn, presumably the King and Queen of Plan B, take the floor, both dressed in similarly bland gray suits. Lyle clears his throat and gestures stifflyto himself, ‘Yes, hello. I’m Lyle, and this is Lynn. And some of you may know us or have seen us around. We’re My Company’s legal counsel –’ Our what? ‘– And we’ve come to train you today about something that affects all of us.’ Schizophrenic management? Client deficit? Tanking morale? ‘Sexual Harassment.’ Of course. ‘It’s been decided that this is an issue that requires immediate attention.’ I almost look around for the hidden cameras. ‘I want to apologize in advance, as we usually hire out these sorts of trainings, but it was very short notice so Lynn will be doing the honors today.’

Lynn smiles, her blunt wedge cut bracketing her face as she picks up her materials. ‘What
is
sexual harassment? How do you know if you are
being
harassed
or
if
you
are harassing
somebody else
?’ Her eyes pop for emphasis as she proclaims from her manual, ‘What are your
rights
? And what are your
wrongs
?’ She locks the manual against her chest to pump air question marks. ‘All of these questions and more will be answered in the next five hours and forty-five minutes that we’ll be together.’ While my colleagues suppress groans of misery, her eyes shine with enthusiasm. Evidently, sexual harassment training is Lynn’s turn in the spotlight. ‘Now, there are a
number
of myths about sexual harassment. How many of you think you have to be a
woman
to be harassed?’ She looks out with the expectant smile of a kindergarten teacher. At least fifteen hands shoot up. Kill me.

‘Well, you’re wrong.
Multiple
cases have recently come to light that reveal this crime has
noth-ing whatsoever
to do with gender.’ Care to rephrase? ‘That’s right. It’s a crime committed by men
and
women. Today we’re going to talk about what to do if your boss harasses you. If he
or
she harasses you.’ A number of hairy crossed arms relax as she continues to read, her script riddled with ‘he
or
shes’, ‘him
or
hers’, ‘man
or
womans’.

Antsy, I keep my eye on the double doors, scanning for Rex’s arrival. Glancing back at the table, my eyes land on a dark brunette in her late thirties seated next to Guy. Their heads tilted together, he nods along to something she’s whispering.

‘Next we’re going to work in
small groups
, so turn your
chairs in with
four
of your neighbors and discuss the scenarios Lyle is passing out. Now this is a
shared
exercise so everyone needs to get their chairs as
close
as possible!’ Trapped, I reposition myself as instructed – intimately – with a group from the tech department. I think. Despite my three-month tenure, I still couldn’t name more than three other employees if you put an electric stapler to my head. We’re handed scripts with numbered paragraphs. Lynn reads along out loud, just in case.

‘You have been introduced to a
buxom
college graduate, who has arrived at her first day on the job wearing
inappropriately revealing clothing
. She leans across your boss’s desk. What advice would
you
give her to
protect
herself from
sexual harassment
?’

A programmer nods his blond dreadlocks and taps his soul patch. ‘I think boobs are an advantage – you know – like a competitive advantage.’ Unable to resist this golden opportunity to publicly air his revelation, he raises his hand.

‘Yes! Yes!’ Lynn waves encouragingly for him to speak.

‘My group here, well, we were just talking about how maybe this graduate could be harassing the guys she works with, because maybe her boobs could get her a raise. Doesn’t that make her a criminal?’

‘Well …’ Lynn looks baffled. ‘
Yes!
’ She nods enthusiastically and I imagine her training guide containing only two words: ‘BE SUPPORTIVE’. ‘
People
with exposed
body parts
may make others
uncomfortable
. Say that Pat had something on hisorher body that made hisorher coworker, Alex,
uncomfortable
. Then
Pat
might be harassing
Alex
—’