Black Elm College | 18+

Chapter 18: Timothy

There are few people I find bearable.

And usually, I think of the members of my immediate family as 'okay'.

But if my sister keeps ranting about the consequences she has to face because of the shipments that keep being stolen, I'll have to break that rule.

I pinch the bridge of my nose, three seconds away from hanging up. "Violet, I know it's bad. Complaining won't make it better."

"I'm acknowledging it, jerk, not complaining!"

"I think we crossed that line fifteen minutes ago."

"Easy for you to say! You're not the one who has to face pissed off 'customers' that had to slow down their production because we couldn't supply on time." I hear her take a deep breath, probably cursing herself for snapping at me when we're supposed to be professional. She'll never apologize though, neither would I. We're too stubborn for that. "Okay, I'll stop."

"Rundown?" I ask.

"Sure. I'm giving most of our current stock to the Morales so we can fulfill our part of the deal. That also means we're late by two days delivering the already paid orders because making the emergency reserve operational took time." There is a pause before she continues.

"At this rate, if the shipments keep disappearing, we'll have to cancel the three massive orders from the Yongs. Two minor clients asked for more and we're forced to refuse."

She sighs. "Timmy, it won't matter that the quality of our goods is way better than our competition if we can't provide it, you know that. This is supposed to be the easiest part of the business and you're the one that handles this kind of issue."

I am. She likes numbers; she handles the accounting, the maintenance of our premises, the legal paperwork. She passes for my secretary in the eyes of the customers, though, so she can gauge their reactions and behavior more easily. I handle the rest, such as meeting with the clients, making the deals, deciding on our marketing strategies, recruiting the right people. The safety of our shipments is my responsibility. Still, I don't really appreciate the comment.

I clench my teeth to keep myself from lashing out, before I ask for more information. "How is gossip so far?"

"We are the only ones aware of the problem — with those who target us, obviously. Everyone thinks the business is flourishing, we still receive everything and that we're just being picky about who we work with."

I sigh. At least there's some good news. Customers are always discussing with our competition but it usually stays what it is, discussion. However, if word gets out that we're struggling, clients will take fright and they'll take the plunge. We can't afford that. Taking over this sector of activity that once belonged to WIndustry was hell — I can't remember how many meetings, how many hours of plotting it took — and the wounded company wouldn't miss their chance at gaining clients back for the world.

She huffs. "The Morales still ask questions about why we think those we denied are shady, though."

I clench my teeth at the prospect. They should mind their own freaking business but they never do. "Did they do anything yet?"

"God, I hate them but other than getting on my nerves and asking questions at my desk like secretaries are all-knowing, no. Anyway, please, handle it."

"Secure channel ended." A voice says, meaning she hung up on me and I shake my head in exasperation. She's surely one of the only ones who can get away with talking to me like that.

I reopen a secure channel and call Ross, who manages most things concerning procurement. "Sir?"

"Ross, keep the same containers, but swap the contents of those routed via A and H. This way, merchandise A will take route H and merchandise H will take route A. Do you understand?"