“What’s so funny guys?” Ian asked popping out of his office with a couple of folders in his hands.
“Nothing.” Sean and Daryn sat up from the desk and quickly shut the lid to the laptop.
“You guys were either looking at something or playing doctor. What’s up?” He said, always curious of the people around him.
“Fine. Keep your secrets, as long as you aren’t watching porn on the clock. I don’t care.” He looked around him. “Has anyone seen Trish?”
Daryn pointed toward the back. Ian craned his neck to look down the hallway, finally spotting Trish Apple looking over the shoulders of the two young girls manning the phone system.
When she stood up spotting the man staring at her, Ian pointed at her. Trish looked around and then pointed to herself. Ian nodded his head and then pointed to his office. She watched him disappear then let out her breath.
“This can’t be good.” She said out loud. She marched past the phones, through the outer office, stopping only at Blake’s desk. “It wants to see me?”
Blake smiled and nodded his head. “Go right in.”
She rolled her eyes. His door was open. She balanced herself on the knob and the sill. “You wanted to see me, asshole?”
“Come in and have a seat, bitch.”
Trish smirked and shut the door, taking the chair in front of Ian’s desk. “Just be merciful and make it quick.”
“That wouldn’t be any fun.” Ian smiled. “As you know there is going to be a lot of restructuring going on here in the next few weeks…”
“How could I not? If they’re not blathering like idiots about you, they’re running around trying to figure out who still has a job and who doesn’t.”
“That’s too bad.” Ian said quietly.
“Everyone knows restructuring is a little more than musical chairs. We all know that if the board is cutting out the big players, no one’s going to think twice about us little guys.”
“We’ve all got our finger’s crossed that things are on the upswing. That means more jobs, doing substantial things that should never be in jeopardy as long as we all pull together and keep focused on the game.”
“It sounds good on paper, Ian, but that doesn’t protect those of us on the bottom rung when the axe starts swinging.”
“I wish there was something I could do give people more confidence in the security of their jobs.”
“Well, Asshole, if it’s any consolation, you’ve done you’re best. I’ve been here ten years now, and I’ve never seen this much anticipation for the fall. Well, not positive anticipation anyway, usually it’s keep a smile plastered on and try not to get blamed for the doggie doo.”
“Ten years?” Ian sat back in his chair. “You’ve been here ten years?”
“Yup, and still one foot on the bottom rung, and don’t seem to be able to get my footing on the next one higher. I’ve tried…”
Ian smiled. “Don’t go there…”
“Not a problem.”
“So…in the restructuring, I’m kind of moving up a few floors.”
“No kidding?” Trish laced her voice with as much sarcasm as she could.
“Mr. Turner wants me to keep as much of the clerical staff on the second floor as possible.” Ian looked down at the file in front of him.
Trish hung her head. In her mind, Ian had just tied a noose around her neck and tested the trap door beneath her feet. Oh, well, she tried to overcome what she had done, but who could forget something that dirty. “Look, just hand it over and I’ll sign it.”
“Could we chat a little longer first?” Ian asked.
“Sure. Can I have a cigarette and a good stiff belt, too?”
“Okay.”
Trish raised her head to look at Ian. He was opening a desk drawer and pulling out of pack of smokes. “Marlboro Light, okay?”
“If that’s all you got.” She said and tentatively reached for one.
“I figured you were probably a straight up “Red Pack” woman.” Ian got up and flicked his lighter for her.
Trish accepted the light and tried not to break into a sweat. He really was going to give her a blindfold and then shoot her.
“Come over here. Let’s get comfortable.” Ian moved toward the sofa and the cushy chairs near the balcony doors. He slid one open. “Now let’s see I’ve got bourbon, scotch…”
“Whatever you’re having.” Trish swallowed and moved over to the chair nearest the French doors. If he was going to toss her body out after he shot it, she at least wanted a shorter fall.
Ian handed her a scotch, then took a seat opposite her, flopping a folder on the chic table between them. “Now, Marla has offered to stay a little while longer.”
“Marla?”
“Jack Tolan’s Office Manager.” Ian opened the folder and looked over the work there. “She was set to retire at the end of the month, but she said she’d be more than happy to stay until as late as fall if we needed her.”
“Oh, I see.” Trish took another deep drag and flicked her ash in the ungodly clean ashtray.
“I was thinking Haley to take over.”
“Haley?”
Ian looked up at her. “You were thinking of someone else?”
“Uh…to be honest Ian. It hadn’t crossed my mind.”
“I’m sorry. I know we all just got hit with this yesterday afternoon, but the office is closed an extra day and Mr. Turner wants to get the ball rolling by Monday morning.”
Trish crushed her cigarette out and bolted up off the couch, “I changed my mind, Asshole. I do hate your guts after all. Making me sharpen your pencils was harsh. Lining them up according to size and a color chart was just psychotic. But this…this is cruel, even for you!” She put her hands on her hips and looked for something to kick.
“Trish?” Ian looked up at her and asked.
“Oh, rein in the doe eyes, Justyn with a “Y”. Even you have to admit that asking me to recommend my own replacement before you kick me to the curb is pretty cruel. Kent would be so proud!”
“You’re right, bitch! It would be cruel…if that’s what I were doing.” He shot back at her.
“You’re not…you know…firing me…” She put up her hands. “Let me correct that before you do, making me resign?”
“Are you kidding me? Who the hell would force me to keep it all in perspective?” Ian looked at her like she was an idiot. “Now sit down and stop being a stereotypical lesbian.”
“That’s offensive.” She smiled and slowly sank back down on the chair.
Ian looked up from the folder and caught her eye. “Bite me.” He smiled. “Now, do you think Haley has earned the office manager position?”
“Screw Haley. What about me?”
Ian walked back to his desk, picked up the pack of smokes and a couple more folders. “Here, and stop putting them out before you finished smoking them. They’re expensive.”
“Tell me about it.”
“Stop whining.” Ian said. “You’re getting a raise, you can afford it. The health plan still sucks, so you might want to think about quitting anyway.”
“I’m getting a raise?” She allowed Ian to light her up again. “A big one?”
“Not as big as mine, but befitting.” Ian opened a file. “Now, do you know what this is?”
“My new contract?”
“No again.” Ian waved them at her. “This is the paper work, including your typed undated resignation, that Wella and I did on that first day.” He handed it all to her. “Do whatever you wish. From this moment on, we start with a clean slate.”
Trish took the file. “You have copies, don’t you?”
“Hell, yeah. God only made me look stupid.”
She looked at them before tossing them in the can beside her. “At least they’re the originals.”
“What we have in mind is that you come up to the second floor with us and help us get set up. Marla can stay as long as she likes, but she’d picked the date to retire long before the whole Tolan thing.” Ian looked at Trish to make sure she was taking it all in.
“And once that’s done. Well…let’s so how can I drag this out and make you squirm.” Ian smiled. “Bottom line everyone, and I mean everyone, was impressed with the little teaser you jumped right in and did for us last minute.”
“I told you I always wanted to direct.”
“You got it.”
“What?”
“As of Monday, you are the HRT liaison for “Blood Kisses”. You still need to be here a couple of times a week to report, and…”
“And…get to the good part.”
“Amanda is going to put you on the bottom rung of the directing team as well. Keep your nose clean, help us build this phenomenon and before too long, you may find yourself getting a few bigger assignments. Both Jeff Torkelson and Tess Sinclair expressed a desire to work with you once…how did Tess put it “once she’s got enough confidence to stand up to a diva nova who think directors don’t know shit.”
“Diva Nova?” Trish puffed her smoke and crossed her arms. “I put up with you. Tess Sinclair ain’t squat.”
“Happy?”
“I could throw you on the floor and make a woman out of you.”
“Now, Haley?”
“Good choice.”
Ian smiled.
Trish scooted forward on her chair. “Now that we’re all buddy buddy…”
“Don’t spread that around.”
“What? And ruin our well crafted animosity? Before we get to the details for upstairs, let’s stick with the details down here.” She said.
“You’ve got a problem?”
“I don’t, but you do. You’re so good with all the little details but I think in the excitement you’ve got a little hole that slipped right past you.”
Ian raised an eyebrow. “I knew there was a reason I didn’t like you.”
“You took care of the ‘Sebastian Manor’ debacle.”
“Yes. It suspended production yesterday.”
“Uh huh.” Trish got up and refilled her glass and poured a dash more in Ian’s. “And “Blood Kisses” starts when? Third week in September?”
“Yes.”
“That means you’ve got enough crappy daytime soap to fill that slot until…?”
Ian’s eyes got big. “Uh oh…”
“Don’t worry, big guy, two…three months of dead air will probably get better ratings.”
“And the critic’s will be a whole lot kinder.”
“Shall we finish this up or do you need to panic now?”
“Uhm…panic?”
“Good choice. Why don’t you let me handle the office transition and you put on some clean underwear.”
“’kay.” Ian handed her the files. Trish jaunted to the door. Ian turned to her. “Yo, bitch...”
“Asshole?”
“My house Saturday?”
“Bringin’ m’ girlfriend.”
“I’ll have flannel and beer.”
“That’s offensive.”
“Grow a pair. Kisses.”
“Love ya.”
Trish started out the door, but leaned against it. “Hey, Ian.” She waited for him to turn to her. “Call me if you need me?”
“First call.” He smiled. “Congratulations.”
“Oh what the hell.” Trish walked over, grabbed Ian in a bear hug and kissed him.
“I won’t tell anyone.” Ian whispered as she held on to him.
“Who’d believe it?” She finally broke away. “Okay, touchy feely moment over with and forgotten. You’ve got a problem. Now get to work, you Kmart inbred.” Trish opened the door.
“Trish, don’t ever go soft on me.”
“Get real.” She smiled and went on her way, mumbling complaints about Ian’s incompetence so he could hear her the whole way.
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