LaTonya paused in her story and sighed. It was obvious that these events and reliving this story had taken a personal toll. The net effect was, that despite her best efforts, she had lost her job.
My mind flashed back to my transition from the police department to my current role as a private investigator. They say that job loss, divorce, and death are the life-changing events where your psyche can take a major hit. When your job or career is such a major part of your personal being, of who you are, a job loss is a real punch in the stomach. I nodded to LaTonya, raising my eyebrows slightly, a non-verbal message encouraging her to continue.
"So, the next day," LaTonya continued. "Mr. Smith didn't come into the office. I and the other top managers, his direct reports, got a call from his secretary, saying he wanted to meet with the management team at a banquet hall in the area for lunch. He had arranged a private room, lunch was brought in and he had led the conversation, but kept it light. I wondered what was up, what was happening. At the end of the meal, he told us he had reached an agreement with the O'Reillys, he had sold the company. He assured us that operations would continue --"
LaTonya's eyes moistened and she glanced out the window momentarily to keep her composure. She continued, "he assured us that operations would continue, that they would now call the shots from Chicago, but they would still need a local management team and our jobs were secure....yeh, those were his words, our jobs were secure...Hah!"
The Peachtree Winery lunch arrived with the same savoir-faire reflecting the example set by Mr. Snooty, the maître d. It was a timely interruption to our conversation.
As a blue-collar working stiff, I don't usually patronize the stuffed shirt eateries, so my reaction was partly impressed, and partly amused by the put-on circuses of these high-class establishments. At first glance, the lunch looked sparse and lost on the large white plate, decorated with little sprigs of greenery and a fancy design of some creamy white sauce crisscrossing the entre. But the sauce had just the right mix of sweetness and flavor, to enhance the tasty meat; although I prefer my green beans to be more thoroughly cooked with less crunch. But for a former lady cop who likes beer, brats, burgers, and fries from a neighborhood bar, what do you expect?
YOU ARE READING
He Crossed the Line
Short StoryHow do you handle a man who tries to handle you? Chicago PI Gina Girardi travels to Georgia to interview a witness who may have information about the shooting of executive Sean O'Rielly. Here she meets LaTonya Washington, who describes her experie...
