Authors: Michelle Janine Robinson
“Point duly noted. I'll make sure she gets nowhere near Kushner or any other account of yours.”
“Thanks, Wendy!”
They were still talking in Wendy's office, when Mr. Underhill came by.
He had his usual stern look, but there seemed to be a hint of a smile. “Meeting in the large conference room,” he said.
“What time?” Damita asked.
“Come in right now. . .both of you.”
Wendy and Damita exchanged looks, wondering what was going on. By the time they got to the conference room, the voices were filtering out into the hall.
“Come on in, Damita,” Mr. Underhill said.
Damita walked in apprehensively. She had been through so much for the last couple of months she no longer enjoyed surprises.
“The lady of the hour is now here. Oh, wait a minute. I hope I didn't speak out of turn. Is âlady' now one of those words that is no longer considered politically correct?”
Everyone looked around to gauge whether or not the boss was joking and if they should laugh. The general consensus was they should all laugh.
“I've called you all here today because we got some great news,
not only for the firm, but specifically for Damita Whitmore. One of the most sought after companies on every investment banking firm's list has decided to give us their business. Damita, Kushner was so impressed with your work that they said hands down, this firm was the only choice they could make. So, you know what that means.
“Everyone I would like to introduce our newest Vice President, Ms. Damita Whitmore.”
Just as Damita was about to say a few words, the sound of someone's loud clapping got everyone's attention. It was Neal and he was clearly high as a kite.
“Congratulations, my beautiful, smart,
perfect
wife.”
Wendy was sure she was the only person in the office who was aware of Damita's marital situation and she wanted to help Damita avoid embarrassment, but she had seen Neal in action and was sure nothing she said to him would make any difference. In fact, her concern was that speaking to him might even make things worse. She was surprised to see Mr. Underhill handle the situation.
Mr. Underhill looked over at Neal and smiled. “Hey, Neal, it's so nice to see you. I'm glad you're here. I was telling Damita that there was something I wanted to show you. There's something in my office only you'll appreciate. You have a minute? Wendy, can you make sure everyone's glasses get filled with some bubbly?”
“Sure, Mr. Underhill, I'll take care of it.”
Concerned about what Neal might do, Damita walked in their direction in order to join them. Mr. Underhill waved her away.
“Wait here, Damita. After all, this party is in your honor.” He turned his attention to Neal. “Neal, please come with me. You have to check this out.”
Neal looked at Damita and she was sure he had a threatening glint in his eyes. “I'll be right back, baby,” Neal said to Damita, as he walked away.
Before Underhill left the conference room, he leaned over and whispered something in Wendy's ear. Once inside his office, he picked up a remote control and opened the right sliding door of a cleverly concealed cabinet, to reveal an impressive collection of vintage liquors.
“Your wife mentioned to me at your wedding that you were a collector. I thought you might like to see
my
collection.”
After Neal had taken a look at the liquors, the door closed and a second door on the left opened. In that cabinet there was a collection of firearms.
Neal said nothing. Mr. Underhill removed one of the guns from the glass casing and talked to Neal about the history.
“Do you know anything about guns?” he asked Neal.
“A little,” Neal responded.
“Do you recognize this one?”
Neal shook his head.
“This is The North Limited Edition Colt Third Model American Historical Foundation Dragoon. It cost me close to three thousand dollars. My first wife thought it was a ridiculous hobby, but it's what I enjoy. I'm a collector. I work hard and I play even harder. But, I wouldn't be able to do any of this if it weren't for this company and my employees.”
Neal's look was one of annoyance. “Yeah and?”
“And, I don't make it a point to interfere in my employees private lives, unless and until it interferes with
my
life. This company is my life and your wife is a vital member of this company. When she hurts, it hurts us, in more ways than one. She's hurting, Neal, and I believe you are the man who is responsible for that. I know you've beaten her on more than one occasion. I also know that you're very clearly under the influence right now. That's the only reason I'm not inviting you to share in Damita's success today. I
will tell you one thing, though; you will never be extended an invitation to attend anything organized by
my
company. This will be the last time you simply show up here. I want you to be very clear that these are not idle words I'm speaking. I will have you thrown out of here like the garbage that you are and then I will be sure to have you arrested. Do you understand me?”
Neal stood up and smiled. He walked toward Mr. Underhill and as he was about to speak, two security officers appeared.
“Mr. Underhill, is everything okay?” one of them asked.
Mr. Underhill smiled. “Everything is fine. I believe that Mr. Westman is lost, though. Could you make sure that he gets downstairs and out of the building?”
“We'll take care of it, Mr. Underhill.”
Neal smiled back. “I look forward to seeing your collection again soon,” Neal said to Underhill as he left.
In the conference room, Damita tried her best to conceal her worry. Finally, Mr. Underhill returned.
“I see you all continued the party without me. Great! Damita, weren't you about to say something?”
“I wanted to thank Wendy for all of her assistance. I couldn't have done it without her.”
Wendy smiled broadly at Damita.
While everyone congratulated Damita, Mr. Underhill decided he would slip away. Damita looked over at him. “Thank you,” she mouthed.
As he left the conference room, Tina entered. Over her eye there was a piece of tape, which appeared to be covering stitches.
“Hey, what happened to you?” a woman from the accounting department asked.
“It's the craziest thing. I bumped into a wall in my bedroom.”
Only Wendy and Damita knew it was a lie.
A
long with her cushy new position as Vice President, Damita was given a wonderfully large corner office with a view. She should have been jumping for joy. Instead, she was thinking about how best to fix the craziness that had become her life. She had everything she had ever dreamed of, but many of the
wishes
she had made were wrought with all sorts of twists and turns she hadn't expected.
As she looked out over the city, pensively, her phone rang.
“Hi, Mom! You're my first phone call in my new office! You should see it. I have an incredible view!”
“Well, I guess I
could
see it if someone would invite me out to lunch. I could stop by and get a gander at this unbelievable office and share a meal with my only daughter. All I need is an invite.”
Damita laughed. “I get the hint, Mom. I don't need a rock to fall on me.”
“I was starting to think that you did. You hardly ever call anymore and when you do, you only stay on the phone for a few minutes. Lately, it seems like just about everything I know about you I find out secondhand from Carmella.”
“I worked so hard to make that deal I told you about, that I'm in burnout mode.”
“Baby, through the years I've seen you work just as hard and
still manage to maintain relationships and get everything else done. When your father was sick, you ran back and forth with him and did all the same stuff you're doing now, without missing a beat.”
“The difference is I wasn't married then.”
“That's exactly my point. When are you going to drop that dead weight? A spouse is supposed to add to your life, not subtract from it.”
“I will. I'm staying with Carmella until I can find my own place and, eventually, I will start divorce proceedings.”
“Good for you!”
“Mom, in the meantime, if Neal should contact you, would you promise me you won't engage him in any way.”
“That boy knows better than to get in touch with me. I'll give him a beat down like he's never had in his life.”
“See, that's what I'm talking about. Sometimes you forget how old you are.”
“Age doesn't have a thing to do with it. I refuse to let anyone bully me, including Mr. Neal
Bully
Westman.”
Damita chuckled. “Will you at least call me or Carmella if he does try to get in touch with you?”
“I promise I will.”
“Thank you, Mom.”
Damita called the receptionist and let her know that her mother would be stopping by. She suddenly felt an uncustomary sense of calm. Despite the reputation New York City had for being an unfriendly and often unsightly city, there were moments like these when New York could feel so serene and quite beautiful. Looking down from her window on the seventy-seventh floor, she was reminded of how infinitesimal each life was compared to the world at large. Looking down, the people were like ants. She realized
that in the scheme of things, each person's struggles, wants and needs seemed incredibly small when compared to the entire planet. She had been so wrapped up in her own problems she had forgotten about what was truly important. She had forgotten how to
stop and smell the roses.
She couldn't wait for her mother to arrive, so she could show her the incredible view from her much-coveted corner office. While she waited, she unpacked some of the files her assistant had not yet gotten to.
Damita was surprised to see her mother being escorted to her office by none other than Mr. Underhill himself.
“Look who I found wandering the halls,” he joked.
“Mr. Underhill, thank you so much. You remember my mother, don't you?”
“Of course I do. We met at the wedding. She is still as much of a delight now as she was then.”
“Thank you, Mr. Underhill,” Karen said.
“Please, I feel old enough already. Call me Michael.”
“Of course, Michael, and you can call me Karen.”
“So, where are you ladies off to?”
“I'm not sure yet. I'll figure something out by the time we get out of the building.”
“Something tells me Karen would like Montrachet.”
“You might be right, Mr. Underhill. My mother is a bit of a wine connoisseur.”
He pulled out his cell phone and dialed his secretary. “Abby, would you make a reservation under my name at Montrachet? It's for Damita and her mother. Make sure the bill is taken care of.”
“Oh, Mr. Underhill, that's not necessary,” Damita said.
“I know it's not necessary. I want to. If I weren't so busy, I would join you both, but duty calls. This way, at least I'll be there in spirit.”
“Thank you, Michael.”
“You're quite welcome, Karen.”
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Damita and Karen were seated immediately after arriving at the restaurant. The white and bronze décor was aesthetically pleasing and Karen looked around, before nodding her head appreciatively.
They were given their menus and Damita and Karen both looked them over.
“Your boss was right about this place; very elegant décor. I love the Old World paintings and this wine list is world-class. It's very nice.”
Her mother looked around at the plates of others in the restaurant. “Look at the presentation. The food looks like a work of art. Whenever I'm in a restaurant like this, I think about going to culinary school.”
“I don't know why you don't. You're an incredible cook. You should do it. You deserve to do something just for you.”
Karen appeared deep in thought. “Maybe I will.”
Damita smiled. “Good; now I know what to get you for your birthday.”
Damita was happy that after their phone conversation, her mother was discussing something other than Neal.
After lunch was over, Damita asked for the check and was told it was already taken care of by Mr. Underhill. Her mother made a face that indicated she was impressed.
As they left the restaurant, there was a question Karen couldn't resist asking. “Are you really that good?”
Damita smiled. “Yes, Mom, I guess I am.”
Karen did a quick
happy dance.
“I know that's right! My daughter
is a hot-shot executive. Your father would be so proud. I remember how he used to puff his chest out when you were a little girl. Every time you brought home an A or when you received an award of any kind he was so proud. You were his shining achievement, and mine.”
“I couldn't have done it without the two of you.”
“I have something for you. It's sort of a congratulations gift. I saw it and immediately knew you should have it.”
She reached inside of her handbag and pulled out a beautifully gift-wrapped box.
“Are you coming back upstairs?” Damita asked.
“No, I don't want to interrupt your work any more than I already have.”
“You're never an interruption.”
“It's okay. I've never been one to overstay my welcome.”
“Well, if you're not going to come upstairs, I'll open it now.”
Damita ripped open the wrapping and opened the box. Inside was a beautiful bird pendant. She held it in her hand and gazed at it.
“It's beautiful.”
“Like I said, it reminded me of you and that phrase about the
phoenix rising from the ashes.”
She stopped and took her daughter's face in her hands. “That's you, you know.
You
are the phoenix rising from the ashes. As the story goes, the phoenix is a mythical bird with fiery plumage that lives up to one hundred years. Near the end of its life, it settles into its nest of twigs, which then burns ferociously, reducing bird and nest to ashes. From those ashes, a fledgling phoenix rises, renewed and reborn. That, my beautiful daughter, is you. Don't let anyone, and I do mean anyone, tell you anything different. Do you hear me?”