J. Gonzalez - The Corporation

It was Friday morning, ten-thirty a.m., and her flight was scheduled to leave at 11:15. It was the best flight Sam was able to get at such short notice. She had dressed casually—a pair of faded blue jeans, a white blouse and blue tennis shoes, and she was carrying her laptop and purse as carry-ons. Her bag had already been checked in at the gate. Alan Perkins had already left on an earlier flight to New York with a stop-over in Philadelphia at eight-thirty, and he’d jokingly told her that if she showed up with him at his gate she could probably make it back home via a standby on his flight. That would have been nice, but then she didn’t want to head back to the office today, either. Her plane was scheduled to touch down in Harrisburg at four-fifteen, which would give her enough legroom to disembark, collect her luggage and her car, and by a quarter till five she’d be on the turnpike heading home.

The past few days worth of work had gone well—as well as work goes, that is. She had enough information and preliminary notes from her meetings to get started on the project once she arrived at the office Monday morning. Sam would want a briefing of course, but that was to be expected. Alan mentioned something about driving into Lancaster for a few days sometime next week as well to work with her on the project. She liked Alan, thought he was smart and agreeable and pleasant. He was very business-minded and serious, but he also had a nice sense of humor and a good personality. He was nice-looking with wavy brown hair, hazel eyes, and sensitive features. He always dressed impeccably and he reminded her of the hurried and dedicated Junior execs she used to work with at All Nation, but she was under the impression Alan was a little bit older than her by at least a few years. If he was married, he didn’t mention it; the lack of a ring told her he was probably single. It had been a little hard to warm up to him at first—in fact, she was still trying to feel him out, trying to see what kind of guy he really was—and she was going to step carefully until she could fully trust him, but for now her instincts were telling her that he was okay. He wasn’t a complete corporate dolt at least as far as she could tell.

She sighed, pulled the battered Neil Gaiman paperback she was reading out of her purse and tried to get into the story. Airport passerby’s distracted her and she found herself people-watching every other page. She glanced at the overhead clock on the wall in the terminal, counting down the time. Ten more minutes and they should be boarding. When she got home she was going to—

The sound of a Green Day ring tone chimed in her purse and she reached for it, scooping out her cell phone. “Hello?” She was hoping it was Jay calling her back.

“Michelle, it’s Sam.”

It took her a fraction of a second to place his voice with his name. “Sam! What’s up?”

“I’m sorry to have to spring this on you on such short notice, Michelle, but something came up. I need you to be in Chicago this evening for another project. I know its short notice, but—”

“Chicago? Tonight?” The good feeling she was having regarding coming home and looking forward to a weekend of rest and recuperation quickly dwindled. “You’ve got to be kidding!”

“No, I’m not, Michelle.” Sam’s tone of voice was sharp. It was authoritative, suggesting he did not approve of her last sentence. “This is rather important. I wouldn’t be calling you if we didn’t need you on this project.”

Michelle didn’t know what to say; her mind was whirling in a thousand directions. She was upset that her weekend was now ruined. “My flight back to Harrisburg will be boarding in ten minutes,” she said, sitting straight up in her chair now. “What am I… how am…”

“I’ve got that taken care of,” Sam murmured. “Board the flight. I’ll meet you at Harrisburg with your itinerary and a packet of information regarding this new project. I’ve got Sylvia working on getting you a flight out of Harrisburg to Chicago tonight.”

“But my clothes,” Michelle protested. “I don’t have anything clean and—”

“You’ll be staying at the Embassy Suites near O’Hare,” Sam said, overriding her. “Sylvia already has a suite for you, with a kitchenette. The facility has a laundry room in it and they offer dry cleaning services.”

Michelle was at a loss for words. She was so angry she could barely speak. She wanted to think of a lie—any lie—to get out of this. She felt powerless to protest; if she refused, Sam would fire her. Well, okay, maybe he wouldn’t fire her on the spot, but he would be extremely disappointed, and she was still new to the company. She wanted to make a good impression. She hadn’t been at the company long enough yet to learn Sam’s limits, learn when she could say no to him. She had the feeling that if she said no to him now, things would not be pleasant for her when she returned to work Monday morning. They very well could fire her by next week if she refused this project. Pennsylvania Labor Law was heavily tilted toward the employer; as an ‘at-will’ employee, an employer could dismiss an employee at any time, for any reason, except for those that clearly violate Federal and State law such as discrimination based on gender, age, or race. In short, she was screwed.

A female voice broke in on the loudspeaker. “Flight 189 to Harrisburg will be boarding in five minutes.”

“That’s my flight,” Michelle said to Sam. “It’s boarding.”

“Everything is taken care of,” Sam said in a soothing voice. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll have everything ready for you when you land.”

“Okay.” When Michelle hung up she was still seething with anger. She collected her laptop and purse, growing angrier by the minute at the destruction of her weekend, and began to get ready for her flight.

BY THE TIME she got off the plane three hours later in Harrisburg she was a little bit calmed down, but still angry. She forced herself to look neutral as she exited the plane and headed toward the baggage claim area. She’d thought about everything on the flight to Harrisburg; she’d even tried calling Donald but had only gotten his voice mail so she left a message. And what she thought boiled down to this: Sam Greenberg must really value her skills and talents, otherwise he wouldn’t trust her to send her out of town again on such short notice. She also realized that at least she was working—so many people with college degrees and skills were either unemployed or under employed. And finally, she still did not know the extent of the project. It could be something really challenging, something she would like, and it could be good for her career.

So when she saw Sam Greenberg waiting for her in the baggage claim area with another man she didn’t recognize, she tried not to let her fatigue and irritation show. Sam was dressed in a blue conservative business suit. The other man was older and rugged, with a face that seemed chipped out of granite. He was wearing a black suit and had steel gray hair. “This is Mr. Lawrence,” Sam said. “From corporate headquarters.”

“Pleased to meet you,” Michelle said, shaking his hand quickly.

“Nice to meet you,” Mr. Lawrence said, nodding. “Sam has told me all about you. Welcome to Corporate Financial.”

Sam got right down to business. He handed Michelle two thick padded envelopes and a thick business-sized envelope. “Sylvia was able to get you a flight that leaves in an hour,” he said. “Your tickets and itinerary are in the envelope, along with information on your car and accommodations. The material in the padded envelopes pertains to the project. There are several CD ROMS inside as well. You’ll be meeting with the client, representatives from Red Rose Medical Insurance, at their corporate headquarters tomorrow morning at nine a.m.”