The Staircase of Dragon Jerico
Chapter Twelve
MONDAY MORNING proved to be a much busier day than Erin had experienced in the past week. She brought Mr. Carver’s laundry up in the elevator and set it beside her desk until he came downstairs. She made coffee and circulated through the office, wiping down surfaces and resetting cubes from the weekend. There wasn’t an unsolved cube in the office.
When Mr. Carver came downstairs, they greeted each other and he went directly to the kitchen. Erin went upstairs to put away his clean clothes and make sure everything was neat and clean. She’d stayed a while on Friday evening to meet the cleaners and make sure they carefully vacuumed under the project tables. These cleaners really had an easy job of it, considering that Mr. Carver kept his home very neat and Erin circulated through it each afternoon and morning to wipe down surfaces and make sure wastebaskets had been emptied.
She heard the elevator bell and hurried downstairs to see an older man stepping off to head for the kitchen.
“May I help you sir?” she said, stepping in front of him before he got to the kitchen door.
“Ah. You must be the new assistant,” Lawrence said. “I’m Mr. Jerico, Mr. Carver’s grandfather. We’re meeting for breakfast. Smells delicious, doesn’t it?”
“Yes. I’m sorry, but I was unaware that anyone else had a key to the elevator to arrive unannounced. Please excuse me while I let Mr. Carver know you are here.”
Lawrence had never been so effectively cut off. It was not unusual for him to visit his grandson, especially as they approached a critical part of a project as they were now. Other assistants had been too awed to stop his progress into the apartment.
“Mr. Carver, Mr. Jerico is here to see you. Shall I show him in?” Erin asked at the door of the kitchen.
“Well done, Ms. Scott. Yes. Please show my grandfather in. I’ll try to remember to inform you the next time I expect a guest so you aren’t surprised. We decided on this meeting over the weekend.”
“It’s no problem, Mr. Carver. Mr. Jerico, please come in. If you gentlemen need anything, please let me know.”
Erin retreated to her office area, then realized she still had the laundry bag in her hands. She went to the downstairs bathroom and put the bag under the laundry chute. Then she started her day’s review of new email, correspondence, and phone messages. She didn’t think Mr. Carver ever answered his phone directly, so she wasn’t surprised to find messages from Mr. Duval on the voice mail.
She responded to Mr. Duval with email over Mr. Carver’s signature, confirming his meeting in Mr. Carver’s office a week from Monday at one. He would not be arriving for breakfast.
“Ms. Scott, Mr. Jerico and I will be going through the plans for the presentation next week. Please keep notes and if you spot something missing, bring it to our attention.”
“Yes, Mr. Carver.” Erin got her tablet and joined the men at the table to begin their brainstorming.
“I’m not sure Royce fully understands the project yet,” Preston said. “He still has in mind a standard resort and conference center with everyone only temporarily in the community and paying exorbitant fees to fund everything. He’s missed the concept of the remote worker and the local worker living in the community. That’s why there are residential districts. The way it’s laid out, we can ultimately support a resident population of 20,000, plus around 5,000-8,000 guests.”
“This is what digital nomads are looking for,” Lawrence said. “What do you think about enhancing the call to tourists to come to a place where they can both work and play?”
“Yes. Full coverage of the entire community with high-speed wireless communications. Comfortable workspaces, even on the lakeshore. Secure lockers for valuables like computers while the guest is playing tennis,” Preston said.
Erin stepped around the project table and stared at the different regions, imagining being a remote worker on the site.
“Ms. Scott, did you spot something?” Lawrence asked.
“We’ve been very detailed about every feature of the community,” she said. “But I don’t see any cell towers. Do we know there is dependable cell coverage for the community? Landlines are pretty much a thing of the past. I saw that mentioned in the project plan document.”
“Yes! All powerlines will be buried. Cell towers are vital,” Preston said. “Make a note to have Duval establish contact with the local carriers and make sure they are on board with providing service out here. We might even need to subsidize additional towers along the highway to ensure seamless coverage as people drive from Cloudhaven to Jerico City or Falmouth.”
He nodded his approval and he and his grandfather returned to their brainstorming.
The session showed a new side of Mr. Carver to Erin. He had no hesitation in his voice when talking to Mr. Jerico. He was enthusiastic and animated in his descriptions. There were times when Erin was writing as fast as she could to keep up with him. He was brilliant, but Mr. Jerico was with him every step of the way. She could see how comfortable the two men seemed to be working with each other. A couple of times every hour, they turned to Erin for her observations. She was pleased to be able to offer suggestions on the organization of the presentation, even though she had fewer comments on the development itself. She was especially glad she’d taken the time over the weekend to read the massive development prospectus.
“Ms. Scott, please join us for lunch,” Mr. Carver said. “It’s simple, but I know my grandfather and I will continue our talk over our sandwiches and it will be helpful to have you keeping track.”
“Certainly, Mr. Carver.”
The three went into the kitchen for a simple lunch of soup and sandwiches. Erin made fresh coffee, and for the first time, all three dropped their masks to eat.
Mr. Carver was really quite handsome, in a kind of geeky way, Erin thought. One could easily see the resemblance between him and his grandfather, whose once-brown hair was mostly gray now. The real attraction to Mr. Carver, however, was that he was so smart. She had wondered while reading the prospectus who had a hand in its creation. After listening to Carver and Jerico for the morning, she could tell it had come straight from them. Mr. Carver envisioned a new kind of society when it came down to it. His dream was of a place that attracted people who didn’t need to commute and sit in an impersonal office space each day. Those people would automatically have more time for leisure activities, of which there would be plenty in Cloudhaven. Well, in theory.
Erin would have been surprised to find Preston’s assessment of her ran in the same direction. He knew she was nearly as old as he was, but she had a fresh young look about her that was reflected in her attitude and comments. He felt she really got it, and couldn’t believe she’d spent her weekend reading the prospectus. She would be a big help getting Duval on track with the presentation.
Erin worked late in the evening, even after Preston and Lawrence had left to go to dinner. Listening to the two men had been a real high as they painted a picture of the new resort development, and turned to her for comments as well. She felt almost as much a part of the team as she had in her former job in Cleveland. She made a note to mention the need for common social areas that could also be used for several workers to get together on projects or for simply sharing a workspace.
She was up early the next morning and returned to the office to make coffee and prepare the space for a continuation of the brainstorming session. She was compiling pages of notes and had distilled a few into slides for the presentation.
Lawrence and Preston were pleased with what she’d accomplished, and after a brief review, they were right back in the thick of it. She was invited to join them for lunch once again.
This continued until Thursday. As they approached lunch, however, Mr. Carver became agitated.
“You need to take a break?” Mr. Jerico asked. “Special place to be?”
“I… No… It doesn’t make a difference anymore. Let’s just… Ms. Scott, I didn’t prepare a lunch today. Please take petty cash and get all three of us something so we can continue.”
“Yes, sir. Do you have any preferences?”
“No.”
“I’ll eat whatever the two of you eat,” Lawrence said.
This was a decision-making process Erin wasn’t familiar with. In even the lowest-level meetings at her former employer, everyone had an opinion on what to have for lunch. A person could starve to death waiting for them to make up their minds. Meat? Vegetarian? Fast food? Chinese? Mexican? All the same options were available in Jerico City. She grabbed her jacket and left the office.
Both Carver and Jerico had been decisive and unhesitating about nearly everything they had discussed over the past few days. Yet neither of them had an opinion on what to have for lunch. It was mildly disturbing.
Erin allowed her footsteps to carry her back to the diner. Perhaps she would see Jerry there and could say hello—apologize for not saying goodbye before she left.
Jerry was not at the restaurant, but Dolores was running herself ragged.
“Are you okay?” Erin asked.
“Like the old days when I had to do everything myself. The girl I hired to replace you quit when a customer got upset. She was simply not prepared for the rigors of waiting tables. Are you here to work or do you want a seat?” Dolores asked.
“Neither. Three specials to go. Has Jerry come in?”
“Your vagabond? No. Not since he got upset last week because you weren’t here.”
“Oh, I hope he wasn’t the reason your new girl quit!”
“No. You know he’s always gentle and polite. But he was unhappy and said he’d come back again in a few weeks maybe. Probably hopped a train for the West Coast,” Dolores said. “Order!” she called to the kitchen. “Here, honey, have a cup of coffee while you’re waiting.” She set the coffee down in front of Erin and ran off to wait on her other customers.
She was definitely short-handed and was covering twice the customers her other waitresses were, but she was efficient as only an owner could be. Orders were taken, coffee cups were filled, and food was delivered hot. Erin watched, hopeful that Jerry would walk in, but he didn’t.
“Anything else?” Dolores asked when she brought the bag with containers of food.
“Maybe I should take three slices of apple pie, too,” Erin suggested. “The guys have been working hard.”
“Hmm. So have you, if I detect correctly. Here you go, Hon. $39.75.”
“Here’s a fifty. Keep the change, Dolores. It’s my boss’s.”
Erin hopped off the stool with her packages and rushed back to the office. She didn’t know for sure whether her boss would have been as generous as to leave a ten-dollar tip, but being in the diner she was constantly reminded of how Jerry had always left her a generous tip. It had made her day and she always looked forward to serving him.
Mr. Carver and Mr. Jerico were bent over the map, placing a row of townhomes.
“Lunch in ten minutes, gentlemen,” Erin called as she went into the kitchen to prepare their plates and make a fresh pot of coffee.
She couldn’t imagine either Mr. Carver or Mr. Jerico eating out of Styrofoam containers. She gave each plate a thirty-second temperature boost in the microwave and set the plates on the table, along with the separate dessert plates for the pie.
“Come to the table, gentlemen,” she called. Preston and Lawrence came immediately to sit at the table for lunch.
“One of my favorites,” Preston said. “Stuffed pork chops. I’ve never had them at home before. This looks just the way M…” He cut himself off and looked curiously at Erin as she lowered her mask to eat. “Isn’t this a nice presentation, Grandfather?”
“Excellent. I suppose I won’t get fat from one piece of pie. If she brought us lunch every day, we’d waddle around the office.”
“I’ve always tried to limit myself to one midweek meal and one weekend meal to splurge on,” Preston said, cutting into the pork chop. “Of course, I can’t help what mother fixes on Sundays.”
“Your mother couldn’t cook any of this. We owe our excess weight to Matilda,” Lawrence said. “Now, Ms. Scott. Tell us about your observations from this morning.”
“Hmm. We seem to have material for about three hours of presentation,” she said. “I think I need to do some work tightening up the slide deck. We can present more in the paper version than Mr. Duval will be able to cover during the board meeting. I think I can reorganize the phases so the first phase is clearly painted and the second and third phases are left a little more in outline. We’ll be able to maintain the impression of completeness without going into as much detail—especially where the details are the same or similar. It will be most important to sell the concept of the working resort—a place where remote workers can achieve a healthy work-leisure balance.”
“Good,” Preston said. “I’d like you to have it ready to present Monday afternoon.”
“Monday afternoon? I was under the impression that the board met the next week,” Erin gasped.
“Oh, you’re quite right. We have two weeks to continue our preparation. But I’d like you to present it to Duval Monday afternoon. After all, he is the one who will need to present it to the board.”
“Wouldn’t you present it to him?” Erin squeaked.
“Mr. Jerico and I will jump in with details when we feel it is necessary, but I don’t present. Not even to Duval.”
“Yes, sir. Of course.”
Erin understood the concept of a stand-in for a presentation perfectly well, even though she’d never acted in that capacity. In her experience, one of the people preparing the presentation would read it for the other person or people so it could be critiqued before being launched. Nonetheless, she had the weekend to prepare and would be using it to practice so she didn’t embarrass herself in front of the president and chairman.
She’d always been the type of person who overprepared. She kept far more notes on their meetings than were required for the presentation, but she found that miscellaneous things the men said were informative regarding what they considered most important—even the terms they used. She printed everything out Friday afternoon and took it home so she could practice in the privacy of her home with a bottle of wine. She wanted to call Dolores and have her listen, but she was pretty sure that would be a breach of confidentiality.
She practiced as she cooked and as she sat in the living room. She practiced in bed and in front of a mirror. She was nervous, but confident about making the presentation, even with the interruptions she knew would be made.
“Oh, good shot!” Preston called out when Gene hit a long three-pointer Sunday morning. He laughed as he went to retrieve the ball.
“I have to say you’re in an extremely good mood this morning,” Gene said. “What’s got your engine running?”
“Oh! You wouldn’t believe it. I’m a blind idiot, but it seems I’m not the only one. I just realized something that should have been obvious two weeks ago.”
“Some great revelation with the new project?”
“Not really, though it certainly benefits it. Remember when you told me to disguise myself and go out to lunch once a week?” Preston asked.
“Don’t tell me you actually did it!”
“Oh, I did. Have been doing it all winter. It was great.”
“You must have eaten at every restaurant in town by now,” Gene laughed.
“No. Just one. I liked the Top Knot Diner, so I just kept going there every week on Thursday.”
“Well, that’s better than not going out, I guess.”
“Well, it wasn’t just the food. I had a very sweet waitress. I mean, I have a pretty high expectation about what restaurant service should be, but she exceeded everything. She even wiped the plastic menus down with a disinfectant wipe when I got to the diner. And I did what you suggested mostly and just pointed at what I wanted. Only said a few words to her, but gradually we got to know each other better.”
“Tell me you asked her out and you’re dating now!”
“No. Both better and worse. A week ago Thursday, I went to the diner and discovered she’d quit to take a better job. Turns out, I didn’t even know her name. I thought it was Maizie, but that’s just a name tag they use in the diner. It really got me pissed off and I decided not to go back.”
“That’s not a reason to be in such a good mood now.”
“No. This week, G-Pop and I have been working every day on the presentation for our new project. The one I won’t tell you about until the board meeting. Thursday, I sent my new personal assistant out for lunch and just told her to get anything. When she got back, she arranged the entire meal on plates, complete with dessert and coffee. Seated G-Pop and me, and served our food. It was a special from the diner. I had the sudden realization that my new assistant used to be my favorite waitress!” Preston laughed.
“How bizarre is that? Did you have a sudden warm reunion?”
“I didn’t say a thing. How can I? I mean she works for me now. It’s not like I can ask her out. And I don’t know if she knows I’m the guy in the sweatshirt and dark glasses that used to come into the diner. I mean, she could have come after this job just to stalk me, you know.”
“Oh, don’t be paranoid. I bet she doesn’t even know it’s you. I remember that old sweatshirt. You probably looked homeless.”
“Well, there were always people from the office in the diner. I tried to make sure I was as invisible as I could be. And I never really said that much while I was there. Just general ‘How are you?’ kind of things. And we didn’t talk much in the office because… well, because I don’t. Not until this week when we’ve been working on the presentation.”
“Is she good at her job?”
“Amazing. I wrote a 300-page prospectus on this project and found out Monday she’d taken it home over the weekend and read it and marked it up. She’s been contributing ideas and revising the book all week.”
“Wow! So, you just saw the presentation of the food and knew it was her?”
“I thought it was, but I cheated a little to confirm it. You know, Mother hired her and just told me her name and that she was qualified. It didn’t take long to realize she was really qualified. After she left on Thursday, I called up her application and resume from Human Resources. It showed that her previous employer was the Top Knot Diner. But, my gosh! Before that she was a regional vice president of Allard Holding. She has a BA and MBA. She’s probably more qualified for my job than I am!”
“I think one of my people interviewed her and came to me begging to create a position for her. Just wouldn’t have been smart, though. Is she pushy? Trying to control you?”
“No, not at all. Not afraid to say something when it’s appropriate, but I don’t think she’d have said anything if I didn’t open the door for it,” Preston said. “Maybe. If I was about to do something really stupid.”
“So, what now?”
“Now I just do my best to keep her as my assistant.”
“Ask her out?”
“Heavens, no! That would ruin everything. If she thought I was putting the make on her or wanted something non-professional from her, she’d quit. I can’t risk losing her.”
“I don’t know how you manage to get yourself into these situations,” Gene laughed. “Just ride with it and it will work out.”
Comments
Please feel free to send comments to the author at devon@devonlayne.com.
