“Have I ever steered you wrong? I’m telling you, you’re underestimating Tina. She knows this business and, best of all, she knows people. If I were in the middle of trying to close a huge deal I’d rather have a Tina than a Kevin any day.”
Mr. Underhill moved his chair closer to Damita’s paper-filled glass desk and placed his folded hands on top, looking Damita directly in her eyes.
“You tell me. What’s wrong with Kevin?” Mr. Underhill asked.
“Kevin is great at research, crunching numbers and running down the best companies, but when it comes to making the pitch he falls short. His social skills are sorely lacking.”
Just when Damita thought Mr. Underhill would dispute her observations, he suddenly stood up.
“Welcome back, Whitmore. I’ll take it all under advisement. And Whitmore, you’ve been missed.”
“Thank you, Mr. Underhill.”
“Now get back to work.”
“Slave driver,” she joked.
“Yes, I am, especially since you need to make up for lost time.”
Mr. Underhill left Damita’s office, leaving her to do exactly what he said; make up for lost time. She looked at her desk with exasperation and prepared for long hours ahead.
After working for a couple of hours, she realized she was able to get back on track quicker than she thought. She got up from the desk, shut the door and said the words she wanted to say the moment she spoke to Underhill.
“Yes! I’m back!”
Just when Damita thought the day was going great, the office chatterbox, Dotty, cornered her in the break room with all sorts of questions about Jamaica.
Dotty was a passive-aggressive junior broker, with mediocre skill. She had been with the company for fifteen years and watched as others with less time were promoted or took better offers at other companies. Her matronly clothing and sensible shoes had many convinced that she was the living personification of the kindly grandma figure. Damita was not so convinced. On more than one occasion Dotty had made it a point to inform Mr. Underhill of the comings and goings of those working at the firm, including the hours they arrived at work, their drinking habits at lunch, as well as their sexual trysts. Damita thought she was intrusive and unkind and resembled no kindly grandmother she ever saw. Dotty was wearing a gray wool skirt, that appeared to be two sizes too large, in the middle of the summer. She had paired the skirt with a Hawaiian-style, short-sleeved shirt and gray and purple knee socks. Her hair’s red dye job looked more like orange than red and her attempt at a perm was nothing more than a frizzy mess. She had completely removed her eyebrows and had drawn arched replacements in a reddish-brown shade that made her look constantly surprised. One look at her face and it was obvious what her salary was spent on. She clearly had Botox injections regularly and at least one facelift. The leathery texture of her skin revealed her love for sun worship. As if all of that wasn’t enough, Damita was sure the woman must have had a hearing problem, since she always spoke very loudly.
“Did you make it to Ocho Rios?” Dotty asked loudly.
“No, we didn’t.”
Dotty giggled. “You guys probably didn’t have time, being on your honeymoon and all. I’m sure you spent most of your time in the honeymoon suite. The next time you go to Jamaica, you simply must visit Dunn’s River Falls in Ocho Rios. It’s the best!”
“I’ll be sure to check it out the next time I’m in Jamaica,” Damita responded.
“You have to,” Dotty agreed.
“I hate to be rude, Dotty, but I’ve got a mountain of work waiting for me.”
“Isn’t that the way when you go on vacation? You come back and everything has snowballed,” said Dotty.
“It sure does.”
Damita turned, looked at Wendy and squinted her eyes.
Once Damita was back in her office, she called Wendy on the phone.
“What happened to the escape clause?” Damita asked.
“It serves you right. You left me here alone for weeks while you honeymooned and convalesced. Who do you think answered all her questions about you while you were gone? I owed you.”
“Oh so that’s how it goes. I can’t believe you betrayed the clause. Whenever one of us is trapped by one of the chatterboxes, we execute the escape clause. You were supposed to save me from having to listen to her drone on and on about Dunn’s River Falls and Ocho Rios. This means war!”
Wendy and Damita laughed hysterically.
“God, how I missed this,” Damita said.
“Are you serious? I would have thought you were considering extending that vacation to a lifetime gig. I was sure you weren’t coming back when I found out you had supposedly been in a car accident.”