They exchanged restrained pleasantries at the door of her unadorned, eggshell-white office. Ruth felt a faint desire to flirtatiously touch his arm as he entered, but instead she simply waved him towards the chair opposite her desk. Clay’s cool manner hinted at some hostility as he passed and took his seat.
Although Ruth Wroth had long ago formed a tolerance to this kind of estrangement in the office, Clay’s apparent unfriendliness pierced her thick skin. He was a handsome man and somewhere, buried deep beneath her embedded professionalism, she had hoped that there could be something more between them one day.
Ruth joined Clay and sat down behind her meticulously organised desk in a black leather recliner, adjusted to its maximum height. She consciously adjusted the single frame on her desk, so that the photo of the CEO and herself on the eighteenth hole of the Presidio Golf Course angled towards Clay. She was assuming character. Clay, like everyone else, expected her to behave a certain way – arrogant, robotic and cold. It was easier to entertain this reputation and be disliked, than to be herself and be detested for what she was about to do anyway.
The soft ticking of the faceless clock on the wall filled the silence between them while Clay, Ruth’s latest assignment, waited for her to explain why she had called him in. He fiddled with his tie, smiled tightly and then finally, when Ruth opened her desk drawer and retrieved a document instead of offering an explanation, he opened his mouth to speak.
Like a sixth sense, Ruth pre-empted the breaking point of the uncomfortable silence and interrupted with her well-rehearsed speech. “Techniche is one of the top five leading IT consultancies in the world. We pride ourselves on our people and our ability to outperform our competitors time and time again.” She paused, taking the time to neatly arrange the document on the desk in front of her. Her dark brown eyes flicked upwards and locked onto her assignment.
“Your team, as small as it is, is an important part of the company’s success. Unfortunately, because of you that success has been jeopardised.”
Clay’s shoulders tensed as though he’d been startled by a loud noise. Ruth studied him as he attempted to hide his reaction by readjusting himself in his chair and clearing his throat before speaking tautly. “If this is about the ConEx account, you must understand that I had no idea they were looking elsewhere. I met with the CIO just last week. We had coffee, talked about the new infrastructure projects strategy. He never said a goddamn thing about it.”
Ruth stared into her assignment’s pleading eyes, providing no hint as to how she had processed this information. She had in fact suspected that Clay was privy to and had even facilitated the move of ConEx to one of Techniche’s leading competitors. She had also suspected that he had a plan to move there himself, but his body language told her otherwise.
“The team has worked tirelessly to keep that account. We met all our deadlines.” Clay rubbed his forehead wearily. “I can only assume it has something to do with the increase in our rates last quarter. You have to understand that there was nothing I could have done. By the time I got wind of it, they’d already signed the contract with Sense Tech.”
Ruth broke her dogged stare and looked down at the document on her desk, an uncharacteristic waver in her steadfast routine. A tight lump gathered in the middle of her throat. Usually employee terminations were effortless but this assignment was proving more difficult on account of Clay’s urbane charm.
She flicked to the back page of the document and examined the barely dry signature of Clay’s replacement. The action served to bolster her resolve as much as it concealed her discomfort. Seconds ticked by on the clock. With each movement of the second hand, the ticking seemed to grow louder.
“I understand Clay,” Ruth said finally. Clay’s stiff posture relaxed a little and he ran his fingers through his dapper salt and pepper hair. Ruth continued, “But your clearly failing relationship with one of our longest standing clients has ultimately caused us to lose them to an aggressive competitor.”
Clay’s uneasy smile vanished, replaced by a dumbstruck gawk. “But… but Renée and I are getting married next spring, I... I can’t lose this job now. The venue alone is going to cost six months of my salary.”
Ruth’s skin prickled as though a cold draft had kissed the back of her neck. She swallowed the lump in her throat, which then seemed to lodge itself in her chest. “Renée? You mean RenéeHooper from Finance?”
“Y-Yes. Renée and I just recently got engaged and...”
“Congratulations,” Ruth said unenthusiastically. “Sounds like the perfect opportunity for a fresh start then. Friday will be your last day so you will need to think about cleaning out your office before then.” Ruth stood up and straightened her Burberry suit skirt with a curt smile. “I will file my report and send you a copy tomorrow. If you have any questions relating to the legality of your termination, feel free to contact Legal. I’m sure you will find it all above board.”
Clay stood up slowly. His usually chiselled features looked hollow and pale. Ruth led the way and waited patiently at her open office door, her arm extended in Clay’s direction. He plodded slowly past her without making eye contact, muttering something about ‘cancelling the Casablanca lilies’.
“Techniche thanks you for your service and wishes you the best of luck for the future,” Ruth finished through her closing office door. She couldn’t make out the muffled response from the other side, but then again she didn’t want to. In her experience it was never anything particularly complimentary.
As Ruth returned to her desk her phone rang.
“Derek wants to see you now,” came the voice of her receptionist through the receiver.
“Thank you Jenni,” Ruth responded, “I’ll be there in a minute.”
Ruth let out a long sigh as she shed her alter-ego. She allowed her emotional emptiness to be occupied by a warm trickle of pride. At just twenty-nine she was by far the youngest employee to report directly to the CEO of Techniche, Derek Hopper. There was no doubt that he was extremely pleased with her work ethic and effectiveness as the company’s Human Resources manager and his request to see her meant he’d already reviewed her latest resourcing strategy.
Ruth pulled her matching scarlet suit jacket from the back of her chair and slid it over her pristine white blouse. She straightened the collar, ran her shellac nails through her chestnut hair and pulled her olive complexion into a rare but radiant smile.
Seeing Derek and receiving his undoubted praise would make the unpleasantness of the morning melt away. He understood her, he appreciated her determination to succeed and he made her feel like she belonged. Over the last few years Derek had begun to feel like the father she’d never had. Ruth squared her shoulders with confidence as she walked through the door and down the short hallway between her office and Derek’s.
As she rounded the corner, she passed his receptionist sitting at her desk and gave her a cool nod before knocking lightly on Derek’s door. Ruth could feel the receptionist’s eyes burning a hole in her back as she waited for a reply. She understood that her reverent relationship with Derek, along with her primarily disciplinary role, made her unpopular in the office. She was touted as the ‘teacher’s pet’, which was fair considering she had an unwavering need to do whatever he asked, regardless of what it required her to do.
“Come,” came the eventual gravelly response. Ruth’s heart skipped as she pushed the door open and entered Derek’s grand yet homely office. With its showcase of trophies, tall bookcases filled with dusty old books and the enormous, rough-cut mahogany desk in its centre, the office reminded Ruth of an old hunting cabin. All that was missing was a mounted stag head above a roaring fireplace in the corner.
“Good morning, Mr Hopper.” Ruth didn’t mind their formalities; it was partly how she’d gained and maintained his respect over the years.
“Good morning, Ms Wroth. I’m seeing some first class ideas in your latest strategy.” Derek sat at his desk, hidden behind a folded document that he held in his wrinkled, sun-spotted hand.
Ruth inhaled the compliment along with the rich smell of mahogany that filled the office; it made her feel a little lightheaded. “Thank you, Derek.” She replied. “There will have to be some significant terminations but the result will be well worth it. The merger with Giant IT will replace the talent we let go.”
Derek lowered the document to flash Ruth a pearly dentured smile. “That’s my girl,” he said. “I’ll need you to come in on the weekend to work with Legal and Contracts on the details. I want this executed immediately.”
“Of course Derek,” Ruth said without a second of delay. “I’ll be here Saturday at 7.00 am sharp.”