Authors: Grace Walker
“Janice. How long have you been with Brockton?” Charles Brockton knew that the secretaries had the pulse of the company and knew all the convoluted relationships.
“25 years Mr. Brockton.”
“And you’ve been working for Hamilton…”
“Twenty Mr. Brockton.”
“What is his relationship to Ms. Connally?”
“He’s her mentor.” But she broke eye contact.
“Janice is there some kind of relationship between them?”
“Not like that.” She defended them immediately. Well that was a relief, she was offended and the insinuation upset her. “It’s complicated.” He just sat back like he was ready to listen and she got the feeling this was not a good spot for her to be in suddenly. “I think you should ask Ms. Connally or Mr. Hamilton, they can… explain it… better.” She said hesitantly. “Would you like me to get Mr. Hamilton on the line?”
“No thank you Janice. That will be all.” He dismissed her and picked up the phone and called personnel. He hadn’t received the file on Connally before he had left and hadn’t received the email from corporate on her references, evaluations and reprimands. He looked at the information he received from Marshall and Cummins after their last trip to California. Hamilton had firmly but genteelly put Cummins in his place. They had observed her applications and section operations and found it to be top notch and well organized. They found her to be very helpful and knowledgeable after walking out of the presentation half way through. Of course after reviewing the materials and finding hers to be better than the son of the regional who had submitted it as his proposal. It had made some waves at corporate. Especially since the proposal had come not only from the woman, but an analyst in line-staff and not the two managers she had worked for. They had simply attached a cover memo suggesting that this proposal should be implemented at the corporate level instead of in the local area offices alone. He had about half an hour before the managers would be arriving for a catered lunch on the tenth floor.
The first email from personnel contained her work history. She had started out in the mailroom. While covering for an employee on maternity leave she started implanting data entry standards but was reprimanded for excessive absenteeism and being emotional. Well there’s a surprise. He got a taste of that himself. Then she was out on maternity leave, returned immediately and started working full time in data entry, then filled in and did small programming jobs for the computer section which increased the productivity of her section by an estimated 25%. Fascinating. He wondered what she implemented.
Then there was some personal conflict and she requested a transfer to the California office. Once here she worked six months in data systems as a level one tech. TECH? Then was promoted to first level user support, and then level one analyst. She went to level two analyst two years later and had been there ever since. Until the last two years there had always been another level of supervisor between her and the manager, now she worked directly for Hamilton on training, network security and database warehousing. The three areas weren't really related. What did she do? She reorganized some of the archives and database files on the SQL servers. She set up and worked with the security group and individual profiles in the various sections and division of the Irvine, as well as Texas and Denver operations. Three of seven, that’s interesting. Then she does end user training, one on one, and conversions. She wrote some of the network training manuals for the training and support division. Quick references and cheat sheets. Sounds bad but he remembered there being several available when the new wide area network and email exchange systems were implemented. He found the original documents in his archived email and opened the single sheet instruction. Her initials were at the bottom. He checked her educational background. Some college. No degree. That would make someone defensive, especially in the computer field. The generalists had all been replaced by specialists and she didn’t appear to have an area of specific expertise, or certification. No network, no security, no email. How did she get where she is today? Sanchez and Hamilton. He closed the files and logged off. Threw out his cold coffee and went to the conference room for the lunch where he would meet with the various department heads and managers.
“No get this. She has no degree.” Cummins was fascinated.
“So?” Marshall was reviewing some of the materials he’d forwarded to himself from the research he had done at corporate. “Lots of old timers didn’t have degrees, they had military or certification training.”
“She hasn’t got either of those.”
“That’s fascinating.” Marshall said with a yawn, he was getting bored. “What's it to you anyway Cummins? She’s given us everything we asked for and more. It’ll take me weeks to get through these flow charts and outlines she’s given me.”
“She has no formal training.”
“I still don’t get it. Does this have something to do with you coming in third in your graduating class again?” Marshall knew which buttons to push.
“Screw you.” Cummins read through the documents his friend in personnel sent him. This was all confidential and if they found out he had it or how he got it, heads would roll. “Maybe I’m curious is all. Maybe something isn’t adding up here.”
“Its computer shit Cummins, the numbers always add up.”
“Did you see that Hamilton, Sanchez, Connally and several others are all on vacation Friday?”
“Now I know you’re in files you have no business in. Get your head out of your ass and start figuring out this server application dependency chart. I don’t think there’s any way we can do Denver before China. China has to be done to be able to do Atlanta or Alaska.”
“Huh?”
“The chart. You know? WORK.”
“Yeah, Yeah. It was in the memo attached to the last proposal because of the redirection of the communications & web dependant infrastructure…” He read her analysis word for word about why the implementation had to be done in such and such order. She was pointing out potential problems and suggested they look at some of the locations and why their dependency was so staggered.
Hours later while Cummins and Marshall were briefing Brockton before calling it a day. They pointed out that the updated schematic including the implementation schedule they received that morning was the most logical to pursue because of the redistribution of server dependencies over the international portion of the network and the other eleven sites would have to be added to the implementation schedule.
“She came up with this one too?”
“Yes sir.” Marshall affirmed.
“She says two weeks total for all 18 locations.”
“We’re only talking about 60 or so servers but as they are scattered around and over the last couple of years the reallocation of web dependency and communications has created the system of enmeshment that would cripple the entire network if we lose more than three servers at any one location.”
“What capacity are they running at?”
“We have several running at over 80%, which is far above the recommendations by the hardware or software vendors.”
“What are the suggestions?”
“We have three possible solutions ready but Connally says she has another one that will be ready tomorrow sometime.”
“Recommendations?”
“I’d like to see Connally’s new analysis before making a recommendation.” Cummins sounded somewhat sheepish compared to how he had sounded on the flight in.
“Marshall?”
“She seems to have a pretty good handle on the requirements and location of a large number of interdependent programs and systems. I’d like to look at her analysis before making a recommendation also.”
“Thank you.” He smiled. “You set up for tonight? Hotel, dinner everything?”
“Yeah.”
“Yes.”
“Fine then I’ll expect an update tomorrow at say 10, sixth floor conference room.”
“Good night sir.”
“Mom quit fussing. It’s perfect.”
“More teal, just a little more teal on this chart.”
“They’re probably color blind. It doesn’t make any difference if it teal, green or purple.” He shook his head. “Just e-mail the stupid thing and let’s go eat.”
“Sorry baby. I bet you’re starving too. Here goes.” She closed her eyes and hit send. “Done. Let’s go.”
”Mom you’re so strange.”
“Where are we going tonight?” She knew. If it was Wednesday then it had to be Mimi’s by the airport because they had baked potato soup.
“Mimi’s mom.”
It was only a 10 minute drive and they pulled into the parking lot of restaurant central. The parking lot was full because there were four large chain restaurants in the same complex: Benihana, Olive Garden, Mimi’s and Acapulco’s, and several smaller restaurants in the various hotels. A little something for everyone.
Brockton had figured since he hardly got out to the coast anymore that he would do Mexican. Nothing like Tex-Mex or California Mexican for flavor. He saw something out of the corner of his eye and it took him a minute to recognize the woman with the tall, skinny boy. Her hair was down and went almost to her waist in a riot of waves and curl. She was in snug and faded jeans and a sweater. She was laughing as the boy talked to her. She had a sexy little laugh. Kind of on the throaty side, definitely not a girl-ly-like giggle. They walked into the restaurant right next to the Mexican restaurant he was heading to. He walked past the Mexican restaurant and followed them into the other restaurant. She was leaning on the hostess station, bouncing up and down on the balls of her feet talking to the hostess who seemed to know them. The hostess looked over her head and asked the tall man behind her for his name and number in his party.
Em recognized the voice behind her and went still as soon as he said Brockton and one. Mike picked up on the change and looked from one to the other with large curious eyes.
“Mr. Brockton.” She took a deep breath, “Would you like to join us for dinner?” She prayed he’d say no. He had said one so he wasn’t meeting anyone. SHIT! SHIT! SHIT!
“Ms. Connally, that would be very nice.” She turned.
“Tami, make that three then. Can we have your sister’s section?” Em asked. Tami giggled and nodded.
“She’ll have an opening in about five minutes. I was expecting you.” Tami made the note on her chart.
“Charles Brockton, this is my son, Mike. Mike this is Ham’s boss.” The boy’s eyebrows raised and he turned slightly red.
“Nice to meet you Mr. Brockton.” He stuck his hand out and smiled. He was oozing personality and maturity. “So are you the owner of Brockton?”
“Not exactly.” Brockton smiled. She’d started pacing again, not very far but fidgety. He thought it was funny that he made her so nervous. “I’m on the board.”
“So you’re from the Atlanta office then?”
“That’s right. Have you been back east?”
“No sir. Maybe next year.” He smiled. “I have some cousins in Atlanta.”
“Cousins? Do you see them often?”
“Weddings and funerals, sometimes.” His mother rolled her eyes. “We’re supposed to see some of them Friday.”
“Yes, well, maybe not.” She looked at her son. “I may not be able to leave, you'll go with Josh.”
“Going somewhere on Friday Emily?”
“No one calls her Emily and lives.” Mike laughed. “It’s Em or Connally.”
“Em, please.” She stink-eyed her son. “I think Tami’s ready for us.” The hostess led them out to a small side patio, it was an enclosed garden with heaters and vines growing everywhere supplemented with silk plants and copper pots. It was a nice side room, quieter than the main room or enclosed patio. Brockton waited for Em to sit before sitting himself. Tami took their drink order then it appeared she returned with the drinks but dressed in another outfit.
“Hey Pami. How’s school?” Mike was a regular flirt, Brockton observed. He got a hug from their waitress and one of the other waitresses in another section came by and hugged him as they received their meals. Em tried to keep conversation going with current events, weather or other inconsequential subjects. She was trying to keep the conversation away from work Mike notice. This was someone from work and she'd talk to Uncle Ham about work when they got together. Then there was a reference to some meeting and Mike caught a reference to Sanchez. That got his attention.
“Uncle Curtis?” He looked at his mother. “Uncle Curtis was here today? How come he didn’t come by?”
“He went to grandma’s house.” She sipped her tea and deliberately didn't look at Brockton. She’d had it. Nepotism was frowned upon at corporate, even if it was a family owned company.
“He already confirmed Friday. He’s at the same hotel we are.”
“Mary and him will be there Friday. They’ll be on different flights now.”
“Did you email Pete? He’s doing flights.”
“Later Mike.”
“But that would make one more for the 10 o’clock from the airport. If he’s coming with grandma he can catch a ride with her and Uncle Josh.”
“Sounds like whatever
it
is, is very organized.” Brockton observed.
“Reunion.” Mike scowled at his mother. “Mom?”
“Yes, Curtis emailed Pete and it’s all set up.”
“Where?” Brockton asked casually.
“Vegas.” They answered together.
“For this weekend?”
“Yeah. We’ve been planning it forever.” Mike noticed his mother’s tension and how she wouldn’t look at either of them. “Mom?”
“I may not get there until Saturday, Mike.” She took his hand. “Don’t worry. I’ll get there as soon as I can.”
“But we’ve been planning…” Mike looked devastated. Brockton read the apology in his mother’s eyes and the disappointment on the son’s face. She put her hand reassuringly on her son's hand.
“Honey we’ll work it out. Don’t worry.”
“Mom, they won’t let me do anything unless you’re there. You know grandma. She’s so…SO…”
“Strict, baby. She’s stubborn and strict.” She sighed. “That’s why you’ll go with Josh. Josh and Carole will take care of you. Hook up with Ty, Toni or Tommy. They’ll get you to the video arcade.”
“How many people are going to this reunion?” Brockton was curious.
“Three hundred twenty seven.” Mike answered, then glared at his mother. “Twenty six now.” Brockton looked flabbergasted.
“Three hundred…”
“Excuse us Mr. Brockton.” She stood up and glared back at her son. “Michael Joshua Connally, come with me.”
“I’m in trouble, she used all my names.” Mike smiled at Brockton. “She’s a marshmallow though.”
“I am not.” He’d taken the wind out of her sails and she didn’t look as angry as she led Mike away and out of the restaurant. Secrets. Cute. They were covering for a reunion where there was the population of a small mid-western town converging on Las Vegas, Nevada. This was fascinating. He checked his phone and saw that there was a small contingent from the Denver and Austin offices in Vegas this weekend also. Maybe he’d make a side trip.
“Look kiddo, you didn’t do anything wrong. Don’t worry. I just would have preferred…” She broke off when she saw her son’s expression change and felt him behind her. She turned quickly and glared at him. “We’ll be back in a minute.”
“I wanted to say good night. I have to leave now. Thank you for sharing your evening with me.” He smiled at the two of them. Extended his hand to Mike, “Nice to meet you Mike. Hope to see you again.”
“Mr. Brockton. Nice meeting you.”
“Em. I'll see you tomorrow.” He turned and left. She shook her head and stared up at the heavens.
“God help us. I hope to hell I didn’t screw this up for Curtis and Ham.”
“What about Curtis and Ham?”
“Come on baby. We need to talk another minute.” She led him back to the table. The bill had been paid and the rest of their meal boxed and drinks refreshed. Pami came by said that the tall guy had taken care of the bill and tipped real well. She beamed at them, kissed Mike on the cheek and went to talk to her other customers.
“That plan I sent before we got here, well it has something to do with some work I did for Curtis and Ham a while back. I made some suggestions on the computers and today Ham, Mr. Brockton and two of the consultants from back east came to the office with Curtis and offered me a position in the implementation of the project.”
“Like a promotion?"
“A lot like a promotion, with a bonus.” She smiled. “But they want the analysis, new proposal and schedule ready by the weekend to take back to Atlanta and I may have to work on that and not fly in with you on Friday morning.”
“That’s ok mom.”
“I knew you’d get it. I just wasn’t explaining well. Mr. Brockton makes me nervous.”
“Big chief, little squaw.”
“Very funny.” Em kissed him. “Let’s stop for ice cream on the way home.” She’d have to work on the political correctness of some of the idioms she and Mike used.