The Woman in the Windowsill

I begin to sort through some of the work, and I start making my calls to the wholesalers. The first one decides to shoot down my offer, saying they can buy the same product from GatCo for cheaper and with a slightly lower lead time. I try my best to work my magic by making calls to logistics and production to see what we can work out. The buyer ultimately isn’t interested, and I rest my case as he hangs up a quarter second after we come to our conclusion.

I lean back and my chair and shut my eyes. My hangover is beginning to slowly dissipate. I look over at my clock behind the picture of Camila on my desk. 11:54, almost halfway through the day.

“Hey”. I hear a high pitched voice coming from over my cubicle wall. It’s Sharon, a newer member of the sales team. She’s been performing a lot better lately, after a rough start to her career. From what Ross told me, she lacked the persuasive attitude essential to getting the big contracts. It appears that now she’s getting the hang of it, and her progress couldn’t have come at a better time with my recent lackluster performance this quarter. She’s a bit younger than me, and she wears her hair in a bun with a kanzashi holding it in place.

She’s not particularly striking, but she’s cute nonetheless. She dons a nervous smile as I turn to make eye contact with her. I’m not really in the mood today to force the smile, but I tough it out and flash a quick grin. “What can I do for you?”, I ask. W

“Just checking up on you, how was your sales pitch?”

“Uneventful”. My voice echoes disappointment.

“It happens to us all”, she comforts. “I haven’t talked to you in a while, how’ve you been?”

“Getting by.” I try my best to not sound pitiful, or hungover. She goes on to chat with me at the edge of my cubicle for a while. We touch on subjects like the next bonus and what she wants to do for her next vacation. She tells me she’s been saving up for a trip to visit her family in Okinawa. I decide to cut the conversation short by letting her know that I don’t have any family to visit for my next vacation. We both avoid any subject that could even remotely be related to Camila. Finally, Sharon decides to get on with her own sort of sales pitch.

“What are you doing today after work?” She smiles at me suggestively..

I think for a minute and remember I have plans with David and Joe tonight. “My friends are dragging me to O’Donnells once I’m off work. I can’t really get out of it.”

“Oh”. She tries her best to hide her disappointment. The smile fades. “Well what about this weekend?”

I begin twiddling with a pencil as I try my best to think of a reasonable excuse. I fall short.

“I’m not sure”, I say.

“Do you want to get lunch with me at the new Italian restaurant downtown?”

I decide to let her down firmly.

“Listen, Sharon. I appreciate the offer, but I’m probably going to be busy. I’m not sure with what yet, but I do believe I’ll be busy. If you ever need help with a sale or something I’d be happy to help you. Anything that’s personal, let’s keep it to ourselves okay? I’m not really looking to get involved with anyone right now.”

She breaks eye contact and examines herself, as if the reason for me shooting her down has anything to do with her physical appearance. I’ve undoubtedly shattered any confidence she felt she had this morning when she got out of bed. She looks back up to me, defeated and surprised.

“Fair enough Brett. Strictly professional then”, she sneers. She leaves her perch on my cuticle wall and frustratedly walks back to her own.

Just as I’m about to make another call I hear a loud footsteps followed by a booming voice from behind my chair. “Working hard or hardly working?” Ross teases.

“Hey Mr. Ross”. I look up from my desk. “Just getting done what I can get done.”

“How’d the deal go?” His smile is wide and excited. His hands lie within his pockets but I can see that he’s ancy by the bounces in his shoulders.

“Working on the next one”, I say. I try not to make eye contact with him and focus on the computer, but my conscience gets the best of me. I swivel around in my chair and face him.

Ross looks disappointed. “I was really hoping to see you make that comeback we’ve been waiting on Brett.” His face droops and his energy is no longer existent.

“I’m working on it”, I snap. I pick up the phone and begin making the call. Ross decides to stick around and observe me at my work. I can feel his eyes scrutinizing me from behind.

I give my pitch to the next potential customer. The lady on the other end of the call voices her concerns, and I try to alleviate them. I show no passion in my sales pitch, and subconsciously give off the vibe that I don’t genuinely care about this deal. I know Ross is right behind me listening. In an odd sort of way, this diminishes my motivation even further. I take my rejection without a care. I turn back to Ross and I can tell he’s starting to get angry. His nostrils are flared and his eyes are wide open. His hands are out of his pockets and on his hips. He moves his jaw left to right as he prepares to unleash his lung power.

“What the hell was that Reckard!?” I flinch at the explosion. I observe a bead of sweat come down the corner of his forehead as he heats up.

“It’s cutthroat, what do you expect me to do. Business is business. You win some you lose some.” I fiddle with my watch and tighten my tie while avoiding eye contact with my supervisor.

“I expect you to give a damn. I expect you to give a damn about this company!”

I think about pleading that I care and that getting these contracts mean a lot to me. However, neither of us are in the mood to listen to my lies. “That’s a tall order”, I tell him. I’m beginning to feel like I’m on a role today. “It’s pretty hard to give a damn when I’m stuck here for nine hours a day.”

“In my office!”. His voice booms throughout the entire sales floor. More than half of the department pop their heads out from over their cubicle walls. After all, this is the most exciting thing to go down at the office in a long time.

I sigh and follow Ross to his domain. When I’m inside he slams the door shut and points at the seat opposite his desk. “Sit.”

I follow his order and calmly sit down. I try my best to relax but his angry eyes pierce right through me. I can’t help but let my nerves get to me a little bit.

“Listen Brett. I know times are tough. I know things are bad. You’re in a fucked up situation. But if you can’t get over it you’re a liability to me.” I avoid eye contact, but aside from that I show no remorse for the company’s losses. “It’s time to move on! She’s de-”. He stops himself. He puts his hand over his mouth and leans back in his chair.

Ross and I were actually quite close before this year. I wouldn’t have considered him one of my best friends but we shared a few after work beers once upon a time. Days of success at the office usually finished with celebration together. At one point Camila and I had Ross and his wife over for dinner. That was probably the height of our friendship. Apparently now I’m simply a liability.

I emptily stare at a picture on Ross’s desk of him and his wife at some sort of company picnic. He’s wearing his shades on a sunny day and she’s sporting a baseball cap.

“Mr. Reckard.” His tone switches to formal. “I’m going to give you some time off. I know you’re a good worker, and we all go through hard times. You just need time to bounce back. I know that’s all you need.”

“She looks wonderful. You both look really happy”, I say, motioning toward the framed photo on his desk. I interlock my fingers behind the back of my head and let out a stretch. “Really, you both do.”

He ignores me. “Take a month off. I’ll make sure we cover you financially for the time off. We care about our employees here. I care. You know that. And I know you care. You’re just not in the right state of mind. We’ll have you come back and we’ll see the progress. We’ll make a decision on the continuation of your employment then. Now get out of my office before I change my mind”

I nod towards him and cooly get out of the seat. Everyone in the office avoids any eye contact with me as I walk through the sales floor to the elevator. I whip out my phone and call for my ride.