Dexter's Renaissance Ch. 07-08

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Changing the job description.
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Part 4 of the 7 part series

Updated 10/31/2022
Created 10/17/2011
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coaster2
coaster2
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Chapter 7 A Different Kind of Progress

By week five, I had settled in and established the working model I wanted in the design department. As the new equipment arrived and the programs were either upgraded or replaced, I could see the attitude of the people really begin to shine. On top of that, Rueben and Dick had encouraged the other engineers to get involved with the designers and see what the new software could produce.

I implemented step-by-step training on the new stuff, with Terry being first, then Petra, then having the two of them help me bring the rest of the staff up to speed. I was pleased that the group as a whole were both cooperative and quick to pick up on the new materials. That was another step in our progress.

When I arrived in Toronto it had been the last week of winter and it felt like it. Cold, blustery winds off Lake Ontario, combined with rain squalls made those first few days very unpleasant. Fortunately, I had plenty to occupy my time and if the weather was too grisly I could spend some hours in the various facilities at Rossmoor.

Now it was mid-April and the baseball Blue Jays were back in town. Their home opener against the White Sox had already passed and with the improving weather and the retractable roof on the stadium there wouldn't be any rainouts. It would be something to do on the weekends, at least.

I spent some of my free time at the major attractions like the Royal Ontario Museum and the Art Gallery of Ontario. They were all within walking distance of my apartment. But by the end of April I was beginning to run out of new things to do. I hadn't bothered to rent a car yet. As long as I didn't need to go out of the Metro Toronto area there were streetcars, buses, subway lines and commuter trains to take me wherever I needed to go.

The twins had spoiled me for living on my own. In fact, they'd spoiled me for a lot of things including great meals, unlimited sex, companionship and just plain conversation. I'd been keeping in touch with them via Skype and it was good to see they were happy being home in Holland once more. I told them about my new job and some of the trials and tribulations I had encountered. I also told them about the end of my marriage.

There wasn't any likelihood that the twins and I would get back together again. The eighteen months we spent together was something unique and probably not repeatable. I didn't want to damage the memories I took from our time together. Better to leave them just as they were; delightful memories.

I had also been staying in touch with Jon and Merry. Again, Skype was great for Jon in Chile since it worked anytime he was near a high-speed internet connection. I had signed on for a comprehensive cell phone plan so I called Merry on her cell. I had neglected my son and daughter when I was in the Caribbean and I wasn't going to do that again.

I didn't socialize with anyone in the Trent office, but I had been invited to a couple of barbeques in May and June and I decided that would be a nice diversion. Janice and I had become quite friendly as we were plotting the subversion of the rigid regime once dominant at Trent. In fact, when I thought about it, other than John Flannery, I had a good relationship with all of the staff regardless of department.

It was ironic that as I was thinking about Mr. Flannery and his hostility when I got a phone call from an unexpected source.

"Mr. McLeod, my name is Michelle Gauthier. I am a shareholder in Trent Engineering."

"Yes, Mrs. Gauthier, I know who you are. How can I help you?"

"I wonder if we could get together for lunch one day this week. I want to get to know the new people in the company and since you are a resident now, I thought I'd begin with you."

"I'd be happy to, Mrs. Gauthier. When would be convenient for you?"

"Would Thursday be all right?" she asked tentatively.

"Thursday will be fine. Where should we meet?"

"My late husband belonged to the University Club and I've retained his membership. Why don't we meet there? Oh by the way, you'll need to wear a tie. Sorry about that."

"That won't be a problem. Thursday noon at the University Club. I'll see you then," I said.

I wondered what this was about. I looked up the University Club website and saw immediately that I was being invited to a very posh setting. When I saw the lay of the land on my first day at Trent, I immediately took to wearing a suit and tie to work but more often than not I discarded the jacket and loosened the tie when I arrived in my office. As far as John Flannery knew, I conformed to the dress code throughout the day.

It was a short distance to the club via streetcar and I left the office in plenty of time to make the noon appointment. I arrived a few minutes early, announced myself to the maitre d' and was immediately seated at a very nice table along the wall. I was barely in the chair when an attractive forty-something woman approached and smiled.

"You must be Dexter McLeod," she said brightly. "I'm Michelle Gauthier."

I rose and took her hand. "Very nice to meet you, Mrs. Gauthier."

"Oh please, it's Michelle. I understand you go by Dex. Is that correct?"

"Yes, I'm afraid it is."

"Don't be embarrassed, Dex. From what I hear, you're single-handedly changing the culture at Trent and for the better I might add."

"I plead guilty with extenuating circumstances, ma'am."

She laughed with genuine humour.

"I'm told you weren't exactly welcomed with open arms by John Flannery. No surprise there," she said, still with a smile.

"No ... he wasn't pleased to see 'some upstart from the west' invade his kingdom."

Again she laughed. "Ah, Janice was right, you are a breath of fresh air."

"Oh ... so that's where you're getting your inside information," I said with a grin.

"Yes ... her and other places. You've made quite an impression in a very short time. I had to meet you to find out just who John Flannery's nemesis was."

"Well, I'm not trying to be his nemesis. My main objective is to stay out of his way. So far, so good."

We decided to look at the menus and a few minutes later after I filled her in on my background, the waiter arrived and we ordered.

"What do you think will happen with John, Michelle?" We had comfortably progressed to a first name basis.

"I'll tell you something you probably don't know. John hasn't always been the curmudgeon he is today. Five years ago his wife was diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis. Katherine and John have been together since college, over forty years. They remain deeply in love and committed to each other.

"While that was going on, two of the senior partners retired and then my husband, David, died suddenly. It left the company stripped of the energy and vitality that made it go. You add those two stresses to a man like John and it isn't hard to imagine how he could be pushed to the breaking point."

"I had heard that his wife was ill but your knowledge of him makes his behaviour almost understandable. Why doesn't he retire?" I asked.

"Trent is all he has to occupy his time. He's devoted to Katherine so he comes in to the office to give both of them a break, then leaves early to be home with her as soon as possible."

"He'd be better off taking a leave of absence and taking his wife on a long trip or a cruise while he still can. At least he'd be able to enjoy some of his remaining time with her."

Michelle looked at me as if she was seeing me for the first time.

"Why didn't I think of that?" she said quietly. "Rueben tells me he hasn't anything to do at the office. He just sits there and reads the newspaper or the financial reports. He doesn't see anyone. Has he even come into your department?"

"No. Not while I've been there."

She sat back in her chair, looking intently at me but her thoughts were on something else entirely.

"When you go back to the office this afternoon, I'm coming along. I think it's time I had a chat with Mr. John Flannery."

She didn't present her comment with any thought that I'd object so I nodded. Perhaps she could bring him out of his shell. Both of them were hurting; Michelle from the loss of her husband and John from his wife's illness. It couldn't do any harm, I thought.

Michelle signed the bill and I thanked her for the excellent lunch. It was an unexpected pleasure. As we walked out of the dining room, I surveyed the attractive widow. Five-foot-five or six, I guessed, attractive mature build, carefully coiffed silver-blonde hair, nice ass, and a confident stride. All-in-all, a very lovely package.

"How did you get here, Dex?" she asked as we exited the building.

"Oh ... I took the streetcar."

"Excellent, so did I. Let's go."

Well, how about that. No Mercedes or even a taxi. This lady was happy with the public transit. Just another point in her favour.

"Where are you staying, Dex?"

"At the Rossmoor Suites. Only a block or so from the office."

"Yes. Good choice. I think Tom Yardley and Wolf stayed there when we were discussing the merger."

"I have a question you may not want to answer," I said carefully.

"Go ahead," she said, curiosity written on her expression.

"Were you happy with the acquisition/merger?"

"Yes," she answered unhesitatingly. "I knew it was necessary and so did Reuben and Dick. I was impressed with Tom and Wolf. Particularly Wolf. He is a German version of my late husband. Lots of confidence and lots of energy. He'll make a big difference to Trent if I'm any judge of character."

"That's his track record at Pinecone and I don't see any reason it won't continue here. I'm glad you approve, though. I'm sure Tom and Wolf want the other partners to be happy with the new company. As far as I can tell, Reuben and Dick are."

"Absolutely! But then, I think you have been a big factor in that. All I hear from my sources is that Dexter McLeod is a really nice guy. The smartest moves you made right in the beginning were to fix up the lunch room and form the committees to get the work done. No one had ever done anything like that before."

"Simple stuff, really. If you give people a good place to work they'll do better."

"Sometimes the simple stuff isn't so simple," she said with a wry grin. "Anyway, my congratulations on your success so far. Now, let's see if I can help with John Flannery," she said as we stepped down from the streetcar.

We walked to the office building and entered the elevator, rising quickly in the nearly empty car. I held the door for her into the office and we walked to Brigit's reception desk.

"Hi, Mrs. Gauthier," Brigit said enthusiastically. "How nice to see you again." Brigit was looking curiously at both Michelle and me, wondering I suppose what we were doing together.

"Nice to see you too, Brigit. Would you tell John I'd like to see him, please? I'm sure he's not busy," she said with raised eyebrows and a grin.

"Thank you again for lunch, Mich ... Mrs. Gauthier," I stumbled. "I hope I can reciprocate some time in the future."

"My pleasure entirely, Dexter. Thank you for joining me. I know we will be in touch," she said with another of her lovely, genuine smiles.

I could see Brigit's eyes flicking back and forth as we parted. She was fascinated by this turn of events. I may have created another of the mysteries about who I really was. I was pretty sure I had a good portion of the staff baffled. I just kept doing things they didn't expect. Not bad things, mind you, just different.

I was humming to myself as I walked back to my office. A very fine lunch with an attractive widow can do that for you. She might be way out of my league but it was nice to have the opportunity to spend some time with her.

I went back to work and got back to updating my report for Tom. I had been sending him progress reports weekly and, although he hadn't asked for them that frequently, I was happy to provide them. It was a way for me to remember what had gone on in the previous five days and Tom commented that he enjoyed hearing some of the office gossip and reaction to my presence along with the dry facts of our progress toward bringing the department up to Vancouver standards.

Just before quitting time at five o'clock, Janice walked into my office, closed the door behind her, plunked herself down in the closest chair and said, "Okay, Dex, give! What's with you and Michelle having lunch?"

I chuckled as she gave me the "no nonsense" stare. She had a hard time pulling it off, mainly because her curiosity got the better of her.

"Whatever do you mean, Janice?" I asked, feigning ignorance.

"Don't give me that! When our most eligible bachelor has lunch with our most eligible widow, something is going on," she said emphatically.

"Well, it wasn't my idea. Michelle just wanted to meet me. Besides, you've been feeding her information all along so you shouldn't be surprised," I said, hoping to knock her off stride.

It must have worked. She looked taken aback and sat silent for a moment before responding.

"She's a great lady, Dex. And you've probably noticed she very attractive too," Janice said more carefully.

"Janice, she's way out of my league. Besides, I think you're adding two and two and coming up with six or seven."

"I noticed you were on a first name basis," she accused.

"Her idea. I always bow to the wishes of the partners," I grinned.

"Pardon my language, but that's horsebuns."

"Naughty, naughty, Janice. That kind of language doesn't fit the Flannery code of conduct."

Janice sighed, showed me a rueful smile, and shook her head.

"Look, handsome, there are a half-dozen single women in this office that would kill for a date with you and a few married ones as well. The day you showed up in this office you had their undivided attention. Now you come prancing back from lunch with Michelle Gauthier on your arm. So don't try and tell me nothing's going on."

Janice and I had obviously progressed passed the informal familiarity stage right to blunt comment. Still, I couldn't be upset with her. She was the matriarch of the female staff and a valuable confidant in matters involving the office personnel and the company's history. She was in her mid-fifties and had been with Trent for over twenty years.

"That's a pretty big leap, Janice. One lunch and I'm the widow's new man?"

"You will be if she has anything to do with it. Michelle and I go way back. I'll get the scoop on your lunch before you know it. Then I'll have a better handle on the situation," she said with a smirk.

I was shaking my head. "Aren't there any other single eligible men in this office?"

"None that are attractive vice presidents who are smoother than a baby's bottom when it comes to handling people. You may just be at the right place at the right time, Dex. Don't fight it. Go with the flow," she chuckled, rising from her chair and heading for the door. "I'll see you in the morning," she said with another of those sly smiles I'd come to recognize.

As Janice left, Brigit came back to my office and handed me a card.

"Mrs. Gauthier asked me to give this to you," she smiled knowingly.

Damn, is everyone in on some kind of conspiracy here? I looked at the card. Michelle Gauthier, Suite 2101, Lakeside Place, Toronto, ON. It also had a phone number, but nothing else. Interesting.

I got an unexpected call from Tom Yardley late Friday morning. After the usual pleasantries he got down to business.

"How are you coming on the project?"

"Good, Tom. I think we're ahead of where I expected to be. I'm getting great cooperation here I'm happy to say."

"Good for you, Dex. I knew you'd come through. Do you think you can spare a bit of time for a side project?"

"What have you got in mind?"

"Our accounting people want to be able to talk to Trent's system, but right now we're on two different packages. We'd like to replace what they've got with our program. Can you help with that?"

"Sure. I don't know anything about accounting, though."

"Not a problem. We'll send Pete Thorpe down to do the setup and training. He shouldn't take more than a week."

"Sure, good choice. Why don't you have Pete stay with me? I've got a spare bedroom and it'll save some money."

"If you're okay with that then that's what we'll do. We'll courier out the software tonight so you should have it Monday. I'll talk to Pete and see when he can go."

"Fine ... no problem. I wouldn't mind some company for a few days."

"Getting lonely down there?" Tom chuckled. "No twins to keep you occupied?"

"Nope, not yet. But ... I keep hoping."

After I hung up, I wondered just what I was going to do about finding some companionship. To be fair, I hadn't really tried very hard. Maybe with Pete around we could go hunting together. He was a confirmed bachelor and had a reputation for seldom being without a woman. In the meantime, he was still in Vancouver and I was looking at another open weekend in Toronto.

That evening I decided to have a light supper at a local pub only a few minutes walk from my apartment. I'd had lunch there a few times on the weekend and found the food quite acceptable. It was a large sports bar with plenty of Maple Leaf, Raptors, Argos and Blue Jays memorabilia, along with a half-dozen flat screen TVs. If nothing else I could sit there and watch the baseball game.

By the time I'd changed my clothes, washed up and headed out the door, it was almost seven o'clock. It was a reasonably mild spring evening and the walk to the pub was quite pleasant. The place was busy so I took a seat at the bar and ordered a draft beer. Looking around, the crowd was quite young, many of them business people having a Friday after-work drink before heading home I guessed. Looking at all the youthful faces I began to feel quite old. I was forty seven, almost fifty ... half a century. Single and no female prospects. Bloody depressing.

I'd finished my steak sandwich and had just ordered my second beer when I was conscious of a new body occupying the seat to my right. What attracted my attention was the scent of perfume. I turned to look at her and got a pleasant surprise. She was mid-thirties by appearances and quite good looking.

"Evening," I said quietly.

"Hi," she responded.

Not much in the way of a conversation so far. I decided to let it be. If she wanted to talk to me she would.

She'd ordered some kind of cocktail that I couldn't identify. I checked out her clothing and decided she wasn't a business person. The dress was definitely not for office wear. A short skirt, a tight-fitting top, a fair amount of jewellery and an excess of makeup. She was attractive but a little too over-the-top for my tastes.

"You done looking?" she asked without a smile.

"Pretty much," I said, scrambling not to look and sound like a jerk. "Sorry if it bothered you."

She didn't reply but looked straight ahead. After an awkward silence, she opened her purse and took out a cell phone. She punched in a speed dial code and waited.

"Where are you," she said in a not too subtle tone.

A pause.

"Oh great! I get dressed up to come down here for you and now you can't make it. Thanks a lot."

Another pause.

"Forget it. You're totally unreliable, Tony. Go take your mama some chicken soup and kiss her good night. It's the only action you're going to get."

She snapped the phone shut, mumbling something about god-damned momma's boy. She was steaming but trying to keep it under control. She turned to me and began to vent.

"Can you imagine a forty-year-old guy who can't do anything without checking with his mother?"

I turned and realized she was talking to me.

"Yup. See it all the time on situation comedies. Not so much in real life, though."

"Wise guy," she said, then began to laugh. Not loud or hearty but more a low, rumbling chuckle, all the while shaking her head.

coaster2
coaster2
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