Dexter's Renaissance Ch. 07-08

"Honest to god, I don't know if I'll ever find a guy who can stand on his own two feet, make an honest living and treat me like he actually cares," she said sourly.

"You're pretty young to be panicking, aren't you?" I asked.

"Not that young, mister. The other side of thirty is usually panic time for single women."

"Well, if it cheers you up any, I'm almost fifty and single so it can't be all that bad."

"Look at me, pal. I'm dressed like a slut so I can get a rise out of the jerk I'm trying to tie down and it's all for nothing. I'm afraid to smile in case my makeup cracks."

I started to laugh. She was making fun of herself and when I laughed, she broke down and did too.

"It isn't funny," she finally managed. "I've made enough bad choices in men to last a lifetime. One of these days, the law of averages says I'm going to hit it lucky."

"If you date enough guys, sooner or later you'll find someone. You're an attractive woman when you want to be. You've got a sense of humour."

"What do you mean 'when I want to be?"

"Well, maybe a little less makeup and a little less skin might be in order."

"What are you, some kind of fashion critic?" she demanded.

"Nope. Just observing what makes guys like me attracted to women like you."

There was another silence as she sipped her drink. It was a minute or so later that she spoke again.

"Save my seat for me will you?" she said, picking up her purse and heading for the ladies room.

"Sure. You want another drink?"

She stopped and looked at me and made a decision. "Please."

I signalled the bartender.

"What's she drinking?"

"Can you believe it, a Shirley Temple?" He looked bewildered at her choice.

So, another surprise. "Maybe the lady doesn't drink?"

She arrived back at her seat five minutes later and I did a classic double-take when she did. Gone was the makeup, replaced with just lipstick. The dress somehow or other had lengthened at least three inches, and the top was now much less revealing. The transformation was amazing.

"What the hell did you do to yourself," I asked.

"Why, do I look worse?"

"Hell, no. You look great. Very sexy. No sign of slutty. Very nice," I said sincerely.

"Thanks. Just a little trick I learned many years ago. It would have been wasted on Tony so I thought I'd see what Mr. Critic thought of it."

"Mr. Critic, Dex by name, thinks you did yourself a big favour."

"Glad you like it. I'm Rose ... Rosalind Tulloch, actually," said, extending her hand. I took it gently and shook it.

"Nice to meet you, Rose."

There was another pause in the conversation until I asked, "What were you and Tony going to do this evening?"

"He was supposed to take me dancing. There's a club just up the street that has a nice band and the cover isn't too bad. I was really looking forward to it."

"What kind of music?" I asked.

"Middle of the road, stuff. I don't go for these disco places. Too loud and too impersonal."

I nodded. "I know what you mean. But it's a little early isn't it?"

She looked at her watch. "Not too early. They start at nine so if you want a decent table you don't want to show up at ten."

I looked at my watch. It was just coming up to nine pm. I thought what the hell. What could she say but yes or no.

"Well, I'd be happy to take you dancing if you can stand hanging out with an old geezer like me."

She looked at me with a curious expression, then gave me a thorough once over.

"You don't look that old. You dress nice and you are polite. Maybe I can take a chance if you promise to behave," she said.

"Oh ... behave. Well, you better tell me what is out of bounds then," I kidded.

She socked me on the arm. "You know damn well what I mean. I'm going to have to fight you off all night?"

"Absolutely. They don't call me the octopus for nothing."

She looked at me long and hard once more.

"I don't believe you. So ... I guess I'll take a chance that you are okay."

"Great, let's go. Since I'm not from around here I'll let you lead the way."

"Where are you from?" she asked as she slipped off the stool.

"Vancouver. I'm here on a business assignment."

"Figures," she said sourly. "Just when I meet an interesting guy, he's from out of town. Come on, Dex. Let's get this show on the road. My feet are getting itchy."

We walked briskly up the street and around the corner. I suppose we walked three blocks before we came to the well-lit entrance of the York Palladium. It looked like it might have been a theatre at one time but the posters were advertising an upcoming ballroom dance contest.

"Say, am I going to be all right without a tie?" I asked her. I was wearing a polo shirt, a blue blazer, slacks and loafers.

"Yeah, you look fine. You should see some of the outfits people wear to this place."

I paid the cover and we proceeded into the ballroom. It was big, fairly well lit without being bright and not yet too crowded or noisy. A band was on the stage playing some seventies standards and the music was quite good.

"I hope you're not expecting Fred Astaire," I said as we found a table.

"I have a feeling you'll be fine, Dex," she said with a smile.

There was no point in sitting, since neither of us wanted a drink, so I offered her my hand and led her to the dance floor. It was a medium-slow number, just right to get the feel of how we were going to fit together. I shouldn't have worried.

Rose was light on her feet and we seemed to be in synch with each other right from the start. I could feel her relax halfway through the first number and when she did, I did too. It was the start of a very pleasant evening.

"I'm really glad I suggested this," I told her after our first few dances. "You are very easy to dance with and I'm really enjoying myself.

"Thank you, Dex," Rose said with a nice, warm smile. "I'm having a good time too. You and I seem to dance pretty well together."

"We do, don't we. Can I get you something to drink?"

"Just a soft drink ... maybe a Coke, please."

"Coming right up," I said heading for the bar.

When I got back to our table a couple of guys were talking to Rose and the look on her face told me she wasn't too comfortable.

"Evening, gentlemen," I said politely as I put the drinks down on the table. "Something I can help you with?"

They looked at me, then each other, shook their heads and left.

"I hope they didn't upset you, Rose."

"No, just trying their luck. That's pretty typical of what happens when women are sitting alone in these places. But thanks for asking," she said with a nice smile.

The evening seemed to whiz by very quickly and soon it was time to leave. As we walked out onto the street, I asked Rose, "Where do you live? How will you get home?"

"Oh, I live in Scarborough. I'll take the subway and catch a bus from there," she said.

"No. I don't think that's a good idea at this time of night. You've trusted me this far, trust me to get you home safely," I said, turning to hail a cab.

She put up some resistance but in the end I persuaded her to let me get her home quickly and safely. I didn't have any ulterior motive. She had been a cheap date, a non-drinker, and I was feeling good about how much I enjoyed her company and the dancing.

"Where are you living, Dex?" she asked as the cab moved quickly up the Don Mills Parkway.

"I'm in a suites hotel downtown, the Rossmoor. It's only a block from our office."

"Are you going to be here for a while?"

"Yes. I'm involved in a project to modernize our design department. I could be here for several months if things get complicated."

"Well, if you're looking for a date sometime, call me," she said with a smile. She took a notepad and pen out of her purse, wrote a phone number on it, ripped it out and handed it to me. "You were a perfect gentleman and I had a really good time. If you're wondering, I'd go out with you anytime."

"Thank you, Rose. That's very nice of you to say so. I may just do that," I said, reaching in my blazer vest pocket and pulling out my business card. I borrowed her pen and wrote the Rossmoor phone number on the back, since my cards showed my Vancouver address.

The taxi pulled up in front of an apartment block, and Rose began to get out. I told the driver to wait and I walked around to the sidewalk side and helped Rose with the door. I walked her the short distance to the lobby door and stopped. She turned to me, smiled and kissed me lightly on the lips.

"Thank you again, Dexter McLeod. That was a very nice evening. I meant what I said about being happy to go out with you again. Don't forget me now."

"I won't. I promise. Thank you for taking a chance on me and letting me have a great evening as well. Good night."

I watched her step into the lobby and push the button for the elevator. I waved and she waved back as she moved into the car and the doors closed. I returned to the cab and gave the driver the Rossmoor address. As we began to retrace our path, I thought what a pleasant young woman Rose was. It was difficult to understand why she didn't have a number of guys interested in her.

Chapter 8 A Surplus of Opportunities

When I let myself into the office on Monday morning, I noticed I wasn't the first one to arrive. After flicking on the lights in the design department, I took a stroll around the office to see who was here. It was Janice and she was busy with something on her computer.

"Good morning, Dex," she said without looking up. "Grab me a coffee will you; cream and sugar please. It should be ready by now.

"On my way," I said, wondering what was going on.

The lights were on in the lunch room and the two pot coffee maker was sitting with both sides full. After pouring two mugs, I headed back to Janice's area and put one down, drawing up a chair for myself.

"What's going on? This is pretty early for you. Do we have a problem?"

"No ... not really," she said, stopping her typing and turning toward me.

"Michelle phoned me last night. John Flannery has decided to take an indefinite leave of absence. He and Katherine are going on an around the world trip. Michelle tells me it was all your idea," she smiled lightly.

"Well, isn't that something. I did suggest it to Michelle but I didn't think he'd go for it. But, I suppose that is a good sign."

"Michelle can be very persuasive when she needs to be. But really, you came up with a very good idea and John can go without having to sacrifice his position at Trent. Very well thought out, Dex."

"Thanks for the compliment but it was just a spur-of-the-moment suggestion."

Janice shrugged.

"I guess that begs the question, who will the interim president be?" I asked.

"I think Michelle, Rueben, and Dick are going to have a conference call with Tom Yardley and Wolf. We'll let them thrash it out," she grinned.

"Well, I hope this helps Flannery and his wife. He's a pretty unhappy man right now and he's not able to contribute the way he probably wants to. Good luck to him," I said.

"Yes ... good luck to him," she said quietly. "I'm just tidying up the details of his financial arrangements. He'll still be on the company health insurance and benefits but his salary will be suspended."

"Will they be all right ... financially, I mean."

"Oh yeah ... he's very well off and I think his wife is as well. She's old Toronto money. They're fine."

"Well ... that's one way to start the week, I guess," I said. I didn't feel particularly good at that moment and I guess it showed.

"Hey, Dex. This wasn't really your doing. You just planted the seed in Michelle's mind. Besides, I think you know that this is the best thing for both of them."

"I know, Janice. I just wish we'd got along better at the start. I feel like I've been going behind his back and doing things he wouldn't approve of. I don't feel good about that."

"You think he didn't know what was going on?" she snorted. "John knew ... and saw ... what you were doing. At first he didn't like it but as things began to take shape he could see what was happening. He told me that he knew it was overdue. He just wished he could have been part of it."

"When is he leaving? I'd like to say goodbye to him and wish him well," I said, wondering if I really meant it.

"He's already left, Dex. He won't be back any time soon, if at all," she said sadly.

We sat quietly, sipping our coffees and thinking our private thoughts. I felt badly that John Flannery had been so upset with the merger and with my showing up ready to change things. I was only glad that I hadn't forced a confrontation with him. That would have made things worse. I worked around him and with luck and a lot of cooperation from the people, we got things done.

I walked back to my office, leaving Janice to finish up whatever she was doing. I sat in my office staring at my monitor, but doing nothing for a few minutes. Finally, I pulled myself out of the funk I was in and got back to work. Whatever the reasons, John Flannery was gone and there would be a new leader at Trent Engineering in the next day or so.

By 8:30 that morning the word was out. A notice had been placed on the bulletin board in the lunch room and an e-mail circulated to all the staff at Trent. I assumed Tom would look after notifying the Pinecone staff.

I expected to hear from Tom by ten o'clock that morning and he didn't disappoint me.

"Morning, Dex. I know you've heard the news, so I won't dwell on it. Michelle Gauthier called me on the weekend to tell me about her meeting with John and his decision. She says it was your suggestion that led to her proposing it to him. Once again you prove just how valuable you are to this organization. Well done and nicely handled too."

"I hope it's the right solution for them," I said. "I don't feel great about it but if it helps him and his wife, then I can live with it."

"It's a perfect solution, Dex. It allows him to keep his pride and his status but also gives him a chance to be with his wife for however long he can care for her."

"Have you decided on who will take over for him ... temporarily?" I asked, desperate to change the topic.

"Rueben Golowitz will be nominated by Michelle, seconded by me. I don't think it will cause any stir. He's the senior man now so it's a logical choice. Michelle has already covered it off with Zarek and he's fine with it."

"Good. I think that's a good choice too. He and Dick have been very supportive of what we've been doing so we can carry on without interruption."

"I meant what I said, Dex. You really have a knack for getting people on your side. It makes you a very valuable resource for us. Maybe you missed your calling. Perhaps you should have been a diplomat," he chuckled.

"Nice of you to say so, Tom, but I like what I do, I'm happy where I am and I'm being very well rewarded by you. I have no complaints."

"Good to hear it, Dex. I know I can call on you when something like this comes up. If you need anything at all, I'm only a phone call away."

"Thanks, Tom. I really do appreciate it ... and thank Wolf too when you see him."

I hung up the phone feeling pretty damn good. I hadn't really paid any attention to my salary since I was appointed vice president until I saw the first semi-monthly deposit in my account. I was certainly being paid like a vice president so I had to accept that I was confirmed in the role.

Pete Thorpe showed up early Wednesday evening, arriving from the airport by cab. He greeted me enthusiastically, looking around and clearly approving of our accommodations.

"Jeez, Dex, this is great. This is better than my place back home."

"It should be, Pete. It's renting for three grand a month and that's a special for us."

"I don't know, Dex. Downtown Toronto, right in the heart of action central. Couldn't get much better than this," he enthused.

"You aren't going to be here that long, Pete. How about we agree no one-night-stands here."

"Ouch, that does limit my options ... but ... it's your place and you're the vice president so your rules count."

"Good. Now ... have you eaten yet?"

"No ... they cleverly scheduled the flight to avoid serving one of their gourmet meals," he smirked.

"Fine. Let's go down the street to my local pub. The food's good and it should be quiet tonight."

Pete gave me a quick approval and we set out for our evening meal.

There weren't that many people in the place when we arrived. The Blue Jays were out of town and the Maple Leafs had finished another dismal season, missing the playoffs for the umpteenth time.

"If you're a good boy I'll treat you to a game next week. The Red Sox are in town."

"What's your definition of a 'good boy?'"

"Oh, let's say the staff training is on or ahead of schedule and you behave yourself after hours," I grinned.

"You drive a hard bargain, Mr. Vice President. But ... for the Red Sox, I'm going to be very diligent in my work."

"I would expect nothing less from you, Pete."

And I wouldn't, either. Pete may have been a persistent womanizer but he was good at his job and didn't mix business with pleasure. He may not have been my ideal roommate but for a week or so I could handle it.

Pete did his job in his usual workmanlike fashion and when he left I was confident the Trent accounting staff had what they needed to blend in with the Vancouver standard accounting system. The Red Sox had beaten the Jays 2-0 the night before he left but he was pleased to have seen the game from one of the sky boxes. A generous hardware supplier had offered a couple of seats in their private box and I think Pete was pretty impressed.

As we entered May I began to get a feel for just how long my presence would be needed in Toronto. The training on the new equipment and software was going well and I thought before the end of July I would be able to return to my home town with confidence that Terry and Petra could handle the growth in the future. I was always available for emergencies so I wasn't too worried that I would be leaving too soon.

We had already begun to feel the effects of Wolf's efforts at finding some new opportunities. Plus, Vancouver was very busy and wanted to hive off some work to Toronto, knowing it would be handled properly with me there. I sat down with Terry, Petra and Rueben and discussed adding two more people.

When we went over the current and future work, more staff appeared to be necessary. It would put an extra training burden on me and my two senior people but this wasn't the time to turn down opportunities to grow. I also was mindful of the image that it would project inside the office. Positive things were happening again. Trent was hiring!

I had a routine when hiring new designers. I would interview them first to weed out the ones I thought were the weakest or otherwise not suitable. Then I would pass the "keepers" along to Terry and Petra to individually interview the remaining candidates. Then we would meet and discuss what we thought of each of them. It tended to give a more rounded picture of the candidates since we all had our own individual biases and interests.

In the end, we found two very good young men who all three of us agreed would be a good fit for our department. In fact, we could have chosen four or five of the candidates and not compromised our objectives. That was a good sign. As Trent continued to grow we would have some confidence that we could find new talent fairly promptly.

Victoria Day, or May Day as it was often called, fell on a Monday and it was decided a family barbeque/picnic was in order. We chose to hold the event on the Sunday, giving both the adults and the children a chance to recover from the event and attend family or community outings on Monday as well.

We estimated that a hundred men, women and children would attend so we needed a location that could handle that many people. It was Dick Zarek that came up with the answer. His uncle owned a farm north of the city near Bolton and he could provide not only the space, but horses for riding and farm animals for the kids to visit.