Finalizing Plans for the next Day… and a little more

Beedle-deedle. I glanced at the phone, stifling a yawn. Almost near the end of a normal person’s workday and I still needed a couple more hours to whittle down my pile of reports and calculations. Beedle-deedle. Fuck. I didn’t want to deal with anyone else today – barring Miss Wade – Margaret – of course. She was – pleasant – to have around. Beedle-deedle. Guess I should answer it, I thought. Damn annoying ring-tone. I could ask Margaret to change it. Like I knew how.

“Yes?” I lifted the receiver to my ear, my voice sounding tired.

“Miss Weissbrodt is on line one,” my favorite secretary said. “She sounds – spirited, sir.”

Shit. Just what I need. Little Miss Perfect again. What the hell did she want?

“Sir?”

“I’ll take the call,” I said with resignation. “And Margaret – could you change the ring-tone on my phone? Or have someone change it if you don’t know? It’s – distracting.”

“Yes, sir. I can take care of it before I leave for the night.”

“There’s no rush. Tomorrow will be fine.”

“Yes, sir. Here’s Miss Weissbrodt.”

Beep.

“Geo – Mr. Wilson,” Stacy corrected in a restrained seething voice, my eyebrows rising in surprise. “I heard a rumor that you’re holding a conference tomorrow with a number of people who have – possibilities.”

Huh, I blinked. Perhaps she’s not a complete airhead, if she’s divined even a sliver of my intention for the meeting. Or at least good at playing office politics, I thought, a bit miffed the bottle-blonde had learned of tomorrow’s activity.

“And your reason for investigating the rumor?” I asked.

“I want in – sir.”

“Uh-huh. And how did you hear of this rumor?”

“Is that a confirmation or a denial?” I could hear her irritation rise.

“I can’t say,” I said. “Not without some honesty on your part.”

“Shit.” Ken’s daughter paused for a moment. “I overheard several secretaries complaining about a sudden change in schedules when I passed by their breakroom this afternoon.”

I guess I should have thought of that, I frowned. Sudden changes – from my level of management – were a cause for concern and created – questions at a minimum.

“I want in, Mr. Wilson,” she said, cutting across my thoughts. I closed my eyes, pinching the top of my nose with my right thumb and forefinger. Shit.

“I don’t what exactly you’re having the meeting about,” the young woman continued. “But it sounds important. Important for the company. And – for me. My future.”

“Miss Weissbrodt,” I said, my voice resigned. “This meeting – it’s not up your alley. And your presence – it could smack to favoritism to some. Your employment created waves in the company, some of which I’m still trying to compensate for.” Particularly one of the employees scheduled for tomorrow, someone Derek and I had been grooming for the position her father had ‘hired’ her for. I didn’t know if I wanted him for what I intended, his attitude having grown more – intransigent since Stacy’s start in the company. An unhealthy mindset should he compare better than the rest with the assignment I had for them.

“If anyone asks, I can say I begged a favor,” the bottle-blonde said, continuing to push.

“A favor,” I said dryly.

“Yes, Geo – Mr. Wilson,” she said, her voice curt. “I’ll – owe you – for letting me in on the meeting.”

“I have to admit that does have possibilities,” I said slowly, looking up at the ceiling of my office. “However…”

“Call it in whenever you want – sir,” the young woman said. “And I’ll – do – whatever is necessary. Just – nothing illegal, Mr. Wilson.” So she has some morals, I blinked in surprise.

“I’m still having some doubts, Miss Weissbrodt,” I said.

“About – inviting me to the meeting?” she asked, sounding a little – worried? I couldn’t read her tone all too well over the phone.

“Yes,” I said, nodding. “I’m still hearing ‘demand’ from you. Not once I have heard you ask to attend tomorrow.”

Silence filled the line, no sudden retort from the manager I despised on the other end.

“Sir,” Stacy spoke up, her voice sultry, the hairs on my neck rising in shock, “May I please –”

“That is not professional,” I snapped, cutting her off before she could get either of us in trouble.

“I – oh God,” her voice shook, her tone returning somewhat to normal, “I thought – I’m sorry, Geo – Mr. Wilson. You’re – you’re right. That was – wrong – of me. I – I wasn’t thinking.”

“Not the best foot forward in a place of business,” I frowned. “Definitely not with me.” I left silent who it would work well with – though not from her. “Please tell me you do not converse like that with anyone in this company or among our clients.”

Silence – again. Fuck, I cursed.

“Just a little,” Stacy said in a small voice. “I’m kind of seeing a client representative.”

“Kind of?” I arched an eyebrow and sighed. “So long as you are professional during business hours and you don’t discuss inside information with each other, what you do on your personal time has no effect on me or the company.”

“It’s – mutual, Mr. Wilson. Nothing sordid like – some of the rumors I’ve heard.”

“Are you referring to the rumors concerning me, Miss Weissbrodt?”

“Ah – yes, sir,” the bottle-blonde admitted over the phone.

“They are false,” I said, fighting back another sigh. “I have never had a relationship with anyone in this company that was never more than platonic.”

“If you say so,” she said after a moment of silence. “As for the meeting tomorrow…”

“You may come,” I grumbled, wanting the call to end. “Inform Miss Wade of your inclusion. She’ll know what to do and where we’ll gather. And Miss Weissbrodt?”

“Yes, sir?”

“Do not add to any rumors going around about the meeting.”

“Ah, of course, sir. Thank you, sir.” Click.

Shit, I leaned back in my chair, closing my eyes. Tomorrow – tomorrow will be – informative. I guess. At least the slacker should be better-mannered than in the past. Maybe after seeing what the meeting’s about, Stacy will finally learn her place.

Beedle-deedle. Christ, that’s an annoying ring tone. I – dammit, I need to calm down. Grandmother would switch me for that. Beedle-deedle. Guess I should answer that.

“You could make her learn her place,” I heard, lifting the receiver to my ear. My eyes popped open. Ba’al?

“Who else?” I could hear the smirk in the voice. “I wanted to check in with you, discuss the matrix with you. I have noticed that you haven’t used it too much.”

“I – had – my doubts it was real,” I said, hoping that no one else was listening in. I didn’t want to people to think I was crazy. It was bad enough rumor said I slept around.

“There’s nothing wrong with caution,” the entity said. “And I must say, it is pleasant to see that you are subtle about your use, as well as judicious. Other – attempts – at testing the matrix proved to be – short, similar and – vitiating.” I’ll need to look that up later, I thought, not recognizing the word. “Perhaps because our previous subjects were – young.”

I see, I nodded.

“They burned out quickly,” Ba’al continued. “Attracting the attention of authorities in the pursuit of their whims. You are proving to be a much better subject than they are. A sign that should we ever implement such a matrix it would best to apply at a later age when enough experience has accrued to regulate chemical impulses.”

“Age is not a clear indicator,” I said, recalling the first thoughts I had when I had ‘returned.’

“True,” the otherworldly being agreed. “Any such implantation will be slow, carefully selecting individuals to ensure that the development occurs maturely.”

“Does this mean,” I swallowed nervously, “That my – examination – is complete?”

“No, of course not,” Ba’al smiled. “We still wish to see how you continue within the matrix. How far you might take it. This is – just a push. An invitation to be more – creative. More willing to take a risk.”

Hmmm. I’m not much of a risk-taker.

“We know. We did a case-study on you previous to your selection.”

“It’s irritating when you respond to my thoughts,” I frowned. “Being contacted was enough to remind me that I’m not alive as I was, but you’re destroying the illusion that my thoughts are my own.”

“Our apologies. But we hope you take it in consideration for the future.”

“Right,” I snapped, my mind swallowing the kernel. “I suppose your interference implies that this is not a controlled experiment concerned with avoiding the observer-expectancy effect.”

“Not at all. We push and prod when necessary. Observing your reactions to us is part of the study.”

“Figures,” I grumbled. “Should I expect you to meddle at an inopportune times?”

“We try not to. Unless we think you might make a mistake.”

“And if I do?” I arched an eyebrow. “Shouldn’t the responsibility be mine? How would I learn?”

“We may institute reset protocols at times. Procedure does require us to inform you in advance to prevent disorientation afterwards. That should give you ample opportunity to reflect and learn during the downtime.”

“Now just I minute!” I raised my voice. “I don’t like having my strings pulled! I may be stuck in this matrix of yours, but goddammit my decisions are mine!”

“Sir? Are you okay?”

My eyes snapped to Miss Wade, standing nervously in the partially open door to my office. I took a deep breath, lowering the receiver back to the phone.

“I’m – not sure,” I admitted, my voice strained.

“Miss Weissbrodt again?” the redhead asked. “I know she – frustrates – you, sir. She does us as well, whenever we field her calls. President Weissbrodt’s daughter is quite – demanding.” She smiled softly. “I wanted to thank you for – for clipping her wings, sir. She was actually – pleasant for once.”

I arched an eyebrow.

“She called about the tomorrow’s meeting,” the secretary explained.

“Can you accommodate her?” I asked.

“Everything will be fine, sir,” she said. “Until the meeting anyway. I won’t speculate how all the personalities in the conference room will interact.”

“Do you have any opinions on any of them?”

“Well,” the redhead said slowly, stepping inside my office and closing the door behind her. “None of them are you, sir.”

“That’s to be expected, Miss Wade,” I said.

“Ah, of course,” the secretary nodded, swallowing. “May I – may I make a suggestion?”

“You may.”

“Mr. Anderson,” she licked her lips, “He – may not appreciate being in the same room as Miss Weissbrodt.”

“I know,” I said. He had been my protégé for a period and my preferred prospect for Stacy’s current position in the company until Ken pulled his shenanigan. He would still be my protégé were it not for his reaction, yelling and screaming at me, as if it were my fault. Not a proper attitude for any level of management. Had he taken it calmly, accepting it, Thomas might have been able to rise further.

“And also…” Margret broke off, her voice shaky.

“Yes?” I arched my eyebrow.

“I – I know you liked him,” she said. “I remember you talking about his potential. How – however, a few of us – we’ve seen how he acts towards us and – others – when he doesn’t have any – supervision. He’s – rather – forward.”

I frowned, a dull anger settling into my chest. I had trusted Thomas; had thought better of me! Dammit! How could I have missed any sordid behavior from him? Shit!

“You couldn’t have known, sir,” the red-haired secretary spoke hastily. “Mr. Anderson kept his – activities – out of executive sight. Mrs. Mitchell doesn’t even know due to – some of his threats.”

“Threats?” My eyes widened in outrage. “That – that –”

“Sir!” Miss Wade’s green eyes flared. “Please, calm down. Think of your heart! Don’t give yourself a heart attack or a stroke over him, I beg you, please!”

I blinked in surprise at her insistence. “My – heart?”

“You’re not exactly – fit, sir – George,” the redhead corrected, eyeing me. “Even with the weight I’ve seen you lose. We –” the woman breathed slowly. “– I don’t want you to die.”

She doesn’t want me to die? I swallowed nervously. Could Margaret be – interested in me? I’m glad she’s concerned, I can’t think of anyone who ever really cared about me since my Grandmother passed. Even the women I’ve dated took such an interest. Fuck, Helen never visited me in the hospital when I was being treated for cardiac arrest and she was the closest out of the lot.

“I know about what happened,” Miss Wade continued, her voice gentle. “I – I hope you can forgive me, but – you did make the news – and – it was before I heard all the rumors – I had the opportunity to look in your medical records. You – you worried me then – and more now, knowing you better than I did. I lost my father and grandfather to heart attacks. I – I don’t want to – to lose you, too.”

“It’s okay, Margaret,” I smiled at her. “Thank you for – for…” I trailed off, uncertain of how or what I wanted to say.

“You’re welcome, George,” she smiled prettily, a soft color rising in her cheeks. “I’ll – get back to work. I need to finish prepping for tomorrow morning.”