Chapter Three
I picked my cell phone up out of my pocket, only allowing myself one terrified moment to stare at the tiny black device before taking a deep breath, and dialing the number to the office. It couldn’t be put off any longer. My decision was already made, so why waste the time and energy letting it eat away at me for even longer?
The phone only rang twice before it was picked up.
“Clarence Jones,” came the voice on the other end of the phone, businesslike and straightforward, even though by now it was after hours, and there couldn’t have been many clients calling.
“Mr. Jones,” I started, “It’s Katherine.”
“Have you made your decision yet?” He asked. His tone was flat, neutral, with no anticipation in it. He must have inferred from my tone of voice that I wouldn’t be participating in his plan.
“I have, sir. I won’t be erasing the evidence of Mr. Bertrand from the computer system.”
“I see,” he said slowly. I could almost imagine him stroking his beard again with his hands as he spoke to me. The image didn’t help the nervous flutters in my gut that were stemming from the displeased sound of his voice. “I’m sorry to hear that Katherine. You were a valuable asset to our company. Are you sure that you won’t reconsider?”
“I’m sure.” My voice was firm and unyielding. No matter what the cost, I couldn’t bend my own morals around something that was obviously and totally wrong.
“Then I’m afraid this is good-bye. You can come and collect your belongings first thing Monday morning. Return your key to me before you leave.” Click. The phone line went dead as Mr. Jones slammed the receiver into the cradle, making me wince at the sound.
There would be other jobs. But at least I could go home to bed that night, and know that I hadn’t compromised my beliefs, that I hadn’t been the one to do the wrong thing. And at the end of the day, that had to matter more than a comfortable lifestyle, right?
At least, that’s what I told myself at first. And to be honest, I still did believe it. But that knowledge was hard to hold on to when I was suddenly struggling to pay for even a cup of coffee in the morning, and an off-brand version of macaroni and cheese had become the dinner menu almost every night. I was suddenly reliving all of my horrible college days, where I’d been scrounging around to be able to pay for classes and my crappy off campus apartment.
So it wasn’t luck that I had a huge savings to dip into now, one that I’d been working on as soon as I got out of college. Too many friends and relatives had gotten into debt early on in their life for me not to realize the importance of saving money for a rainy day. Not to mention, working and going to school full time had taught me the full value of a dollar.
I’d already considered giving up my apartment and trying to find something smaller and more appropriate for my new budget, which was currently, nothing, but by the time I’d broken the contract on my current apartment, paid a deposit on the new place, and hired someone to move my stuff, I would have been paying almost as much as just staying the last few months.
I had a job interview the next morning, so I had allowed myself the luxury of having a nice dinner and a long, hot soak in the bathtub before getting out and laying down. I wanted to make sure that I felt completely myself for the interview the next morning.
Things will be back to normal soon, I told myself sleepily, just before drifting off.
But no amount of preparing could have changed what went down at the course of that meeting. It was clear from the very moment that I walked through the doors that the interview had been a courtesy, a way of not turning me down without appearing to give me a chance.
“I have several recommendation letters,” I said, pushing them towards him, “And all of my skills listed, along with how long I worked at my recent job.”
The interviewer’s doughy round face turned slightly red at the mention of my previous position. “This appears to be quite an impressive resume Katherine…but I’m afraid we just can’t use you.” The words rang in my ears, quite similar to so many of the interviews that I had been to lately. Every single place I’d been had placed an ad for needing an executive, or at least a position with the possibility of advancement. I had the skills, the ambition, the work ethic. And yet somehow, they didn’t’ need my services.
“I promise Mr. Etterly, I am an extremely hard worker,” I begged, trying to plead my case, even though he was trying to shut me down. But he shook his head before I’d even finished speaking.
“It’s not that I don’t doubt your abilities. I’m sure you’re very capable. But the thing is…” he said, lowering his voice and folding his hands together, “We’re team players here Miss Rugio. I can’t hire an employee when I can’t trust that they won’t do as they’re asked.”
I sat straight up in my seat, finally understanding.
“Let me guess,” I said, aware that my icy tone was completely unprofessional, and still not caring in the slightest. “When Mr. Jones found out I had an interview with your company, he felt the need to personally call and give you his opinion on me.”
The man shrugged, almost apologetically. “We place a lot of emphasis on prior employer’s comments, and the reasons that the employee left the company.”
“So I’ve been…what? Blacklisted? I’m not allowed to work in the industry?” Outrage filled my voice. It wasn’t bad enough that Jones had fired me for not doing something that was borderline illegal, no matter what he said, but now he had to go and keep me from getting a job anywhere else?
“I appreciate your time,” the man said, standing and offering his hand to me, apparently unwilling or unable to say anymore.
“Yeah, thanks.” My mind was distracted, wheels spinning, and anger fuming underneath my skin. I couldn’t bring myself to be any nicer, although I knew I was burning what little of the bridge was left between myself and a possible employer.
I had hardly walked out of the building before pulling out my phone and angrily dialing Mr. Jones’s direct line.
“Hello?” He asked, after answering the phone with his name, the same way that he always had. “Hello?”
“Mr. Jones,” I said coldly, “Can you tell me exactly what you think you’re doing by jeopardizing my job interviews?”
“I’m afraid I don’t know what you mean Katherine.” His voice sounded wary, like he was itching to put the phone down before I had a chance to say anything else. But I wasn’t going to give him that chance.
“Like hell you don’t!” I spat out. “I saw the news about Reese Simpson getting the patent for the same thing Oliver Bertrand had pushed for. Imagine how well the public would take it if they knew that was only because you sabotaged him?” Threatening normally wasn’t my area of expertise, but I knew how worried Jones had been when all of the stuff with Oliver was going on. He had to be ten times more nervous now that he’d almost gotten away with it, only to have me bringing it up again now.
“What,” he asked, anger in his voice, “…what exactly are you trying to say?”
“Let me be very clear. Don’t try to keep me from getting another job. Or I’ll make sure that everyone knows it was your doing that Oliver’s patent fell through. Proof or not, it’s going to be pretty hard to talk your way out of.”
“It’s already done,” he insisted. “And I pulled quite a lot of strings to have it accomplished. There’s nothing that I can do about it now.”
“Then undo it.” I hung up on him, slamming down the phone the same way that he had done to me a few weeks prior. That self-righteous….words weren’t bad enough to describe how I felt about him.
The street outside the office that I had gone to the interview in was bustling, crowded and busy with both tourists and people trying to get to work. It would have been nice if I were one of the ones lucky enough to be going to a job.
It was starting to get cold, the chill of fall seeping in and taking over. My anger didn’t subside as I walked through the chilly we
ather, and if anything I grew angrier at my predicament.
I didn’t deserve this. I had been a damn good employee, a great employee. They had no right to do this to me. I had given everything that I had to that company, only for them to fire me for something that…
At that very moment, my train of thought was cut off by catching sight of a bright, boldly lettered sign that was across the street, hanging on the length of a cyclone fence.
Have you always thought that helping others was your calling? Do you have experience with volunteer work, or would you like to?
Then the Peace Corps might be for you!
Come volunteer today!
A number was listed under it, but it was unnecessary. The small building behind it had a sign that clearly displayed it as the local outpost and headquarters of the volunteer organization.