Our Love Saga

She nodded and said, "Jimmy doesn't like me to ride the river trail early in the morning either, but at least then I can see any of the homeless or others who hang out under the bridges and speed past them before they even know that I'm there. I can't go as fast when it's dark, though."

"It's settled then," I said. "You can either hang out here with me during the call or let me know where you'll be and I'll find you when I am done."

"If you don't mind, I will wait here. There's no one else in the building except the cleaning crew."

"I would welcome your company," I assured her. "What does your husband, I believe you said his name was Jimmy, do for a living and would he use the printer for anything related to work?"

"He's in sales and all he fills out are pre-printed order forms that he is required to use. The company he represents right now manufactures toothbrushes and other dental aids, so he calls on the major grocery and drug store chains in the area to handle their orders and merchandising of the products. Does his work affect you possibly being able to assist with getting him a better printer?"

"If it does, I'll let you know so we can try to find a work-around. You said that he was the president of your homeowners' association?"

"Yeah, I think he likes the power the position gives him. There are only sixty homes in our neighborhood and Jimmy insists on handling the business of the HOA through the board rather than using a management company."

My watch alarm sounded, indicating that it was time for the conference call. I picked up the handset and checked the conference call-in number. Samantha watched me dialing my desk phone and raised an eyebrow. I suspected the reason and said, "I'm calling Japan. International calls involve a few additional numbers than domestic calls do."

She nodded and remained silent as I pushed the button to activate the speaker and replaced the handset on the phone. I then hit the mute button and leaned back in my chair to listen. The agenda for this conference call had been provided several days earlier, so I knew that my participation would be minimal.

Takashi Yoshida, the CEO of our Japanese parent company would be visiting the United States soon after the New Year. His intention was to get a tour of all the manufacturing, warehousing, sales, and service locations across the country. The purpose of this call was to present Taka's planned itinerary and finalize who would be responsible for him at each location.

As far as I was concerned, my role as the CEO's escort during his time in Southern California had become finalized as soon as the vice-president that I reported to informed me of this conference call. That was confirmed for everyone else on the call when we reached the dates for his Southern California visit. Since Taka would begin his visit on the east coast and gradually work his way west, his visit to our area would be his last, as well as his longest before returning to Japan.

Although the conference call was on my phone's speaker, I wasn't sure how much attention Samantha was paying to it. After sitting silently for the first ten minutes watching me take notes, she rose from the chair and began an inspection of my office. She examined every framed certificate on each wall, which included all of my professional credentials, but none of my educational diplomas. She then spent several minutes studying the large wall map of the world which had push-pins indicating places I had traveled to for business.

When I wasn't taking notes, I noticed that Samantha would frequently be standing somewhere in my office, just studying me. Moving around the space seemed almost a purposeful effort on her part which allowed her to view me from different angles. I admitted to myself that she looked good from any angle.

I always appreciated the organization and efficiency that the liaisons in Japan demonstrated with these international calls. The agendas were always followed meticulously and the calls typically ended well before their scheduled time. This one ended ten minutes early. I shut down my computer before standing and grabbing my coat.

"Ready if you are," I said to Samantha. "Is your bike still in the rack by the warehouse employee entrance?"

Samantha stood behind her chair and just nodded. She seemed to be deep in thought as she followed me out of my office, down the stairs, and out to the front parking lot where my Nissan pickup truck sat alone. I unlocked and opened the passenger door for her and said, "I'll drive around to the side and load up your bike rather than having you bring it up here. Sound okay?"

She nodded again and climbed in. I drove us around the building to the bike racks and stopped the truck so that the headlights illuminated the only bike there. I extended my right hand and said, "If you hand me the key for the lock, I'll get your bike loaded and we can get you home."

Opening her door, Samantha said, "I can do it. I wouldn't want you to get your suit dirty from the bike."

Without waiting for a reply, she slid off the seat and headed for her bike. I got out and went to the back of the truck to lower the tailgate for her. As she deftly hefted her bike into the back and rolled it forward to allow the tailgate to close, I noticed that it was a twenty-one-speed mountain bike with a well-padded tractor style seat. Samantha carried her helmet back to the cab and placed it on the floorboard at her feet next to her lunch cooler.

As I got back into the truck, she began giving me directions, "Just take the Fifty-Five freeway to the Ninety-One. If you want to use the carpool lane you will want to get out of it before you make the transition unless you have a transponder for the toll roads."

I pointed to the little square box attached to the lower-left corner of my windshield and said, "I have a transponder, but I assume that you'll have me exiting the Ninety-One at either Imperial Highway or Weir Canyon Road. It can be a bear to get across six lanes from the express lanes during rush hour traffic, so I'll jump out of the carpool lane on the Fifty-Five around Lincoln Avenue."

"Good thinking," Samantha said. "If you get off at Weir Canyon and turn left, it becomes Yorba Linda Boulevard. Our house is only about half a mile north of the freeway."

I drove us to the Dyer Road onramp to the Fifty-Five freeway and quickly merged into the right lane. Samantha remained silent as I gradually worked us over to the left lane just in time to find a legal entrance to the carpool lane.

Satisfied that we were safely on our way in the right direction, Samantha finally spoke, "If I understand right from that conference call, you are going to be responsible for coordinating Mr. Yoshida's visit here in January. Do you need any assistance with anything?"

"Are you offering?" I asked. Man, she sure made my truck smell good.

"I would need to get Mr. Allen's permission, but since you don't have an administrative assistant and it is for the CEO of the company, I'm pretty sure that he would agree to let me help you."

"I appreciate the offer. Tell you what, I'll check with Joe in the morning to make sure that he can spare a few hours of your time on occasion. I'll be putting together a list of tasks that will need to be completed before Mr. Yoshida's visit. If Joe agrees, maybe you can come up to my office tomorrow after lunch and we'll go through the list of tasks to see which you would feel comfortable assisting with."

"Okay, that sounds good. When is your next trip scheduled for?"

We were making good time, driving mostly against the heavier traffic on the southbound Fifty-Five, but that would change once we transitioned to the eastbound Ninety-One. I began pacing us so that I would be in a position to merge out of the carpool lane and into the left-most thru traffic lane when the time came.

"I have to go to Dallas for a couple of days during the second week of December, but that's the only trip scheduled before the end of the year. Preparing for Mr. Yoshida's visit will provide me with an excuse not to travel through most of January."

"My best friend lives in Arlington just west of Dallas," Samantha informed me. "Her and her husband moved there almost two years ago."

"Do you get to see her often?" I asked.

"No. We haven't seen each other since I moved out here from Albuquerque to marry Jimmy three years ago. We do try to talk on the phone at least once a week though."

I made my move to get out of the carpool lane and then looked for openings in the next lane to the right. Once settled, I asked, "Is that where you're originally from?"

"No, I was born and raised near Fort Sill, Oklahoma. My dad was career Army and a drill instructor at Fort Sill until he retired."

"So how did you end up in New Mexico, if you don't mind me asking?"

"I followed my boyfriend at the time from Germany after divorcing my first husband who was stationed there. I was only seventeen when I got married, but I was the youngest girl and my parents wanted me out of the house before my dad retired. I guess they saw marrying me off as their best solution to accomplish that. They convinced me to marry one of the guys on my dad's squad right before he got assigned to Germany. The marriage lasted only nine months before I met Vic. I was working at the base commissary and he offered to take me back to Albuquerque with him once my divorce was final."

Samantha seemed willing to share, so as long as she didn't mind, I would keep asking questions to try to get to know her better. "How did you end up with Jimmy?" I asked.

"Once Vic got out of the Army, he was rudderless. He started drinking to excess and became physically and verbally abusive. I had been working at the Kirtland Air Force Base commissary and left Vic as soon as I had enough money for the deposit on my own apartment. I met Jimmy four years ago when he would come to the commissary to perform merchandising tasks for the houseware products he was representing at the time. We dated for about ten months whenever he was in town. When he took a new job that would limit his territory to Southern California, he asked me to move out here with him. We got married a couple of months later."

"How long have you been working for Joe Allen?"

"Almost three years. How long have you been with the company?"

Chatting with Samantha had made the drive much quicker than I expected. I realized that we were approaching the Weir Canyon exit when I answered her question, "It will be five years in February. You said to turn left towards Yorba Linda Boulevard, correct?"

"Correct. How does your family handle all your traveling? I saw the pictures of your kids on your desk."

"The kids are pretty resilient and I try to always be present for the major events in their lives, so I'm hoping that they don't resent me too much. Bryce just turned fifteen and Paige will be eleven in February. Their attitudes are good, but they are much closer to their mom than to me."

Samantha turned her attention back to our route and said, "There will be a fire station up here on the right. Turn right at the next street after that."

Following her directions, I turned into a small subdivision of cookie-cutter homes. The houses were all sand-colored stucco with red tile roofs. The only differentiating characteristics were in the landscaping of one house versus another. I found the street address that Samantha gave me and pulled into the driveway.

"I really appreciate the lift AJ. If you give me a second to go through the house and open the garage door, I'll get my bike out of the back of your truck."

"It has been my pleasure, Samantha. You go ahead, I'll be waiting here for you."

After she had grabbed her helmet and lunch cooler, Samantha exited the cab of the truck. I saw her pull the elastic band off her wrist with a house key attached to it as she disappeared towards the front door. By the time that the garage door began opening, I had her bike out of the truck and on the driveway for her.

"Thanks again, AJ. I hope to see you tomorrow."

"I'm looking forward to seeing you too, Samantha. How about if you skip making lunch for yourself tomorrow and let me treat you? I am pretty sure that I'll have an answer about you being able to help me coordinate Mr. Yoshida's visit by lunchtime and it will give us a chance to review the tasks."

"Okay. I was thinking that I would drive into work tomorrow anyway so if your plans change, I can always go to lunch someplace on my own."

"I would never break a lunch date with you or anyone else," I assured her. "I take my commitments seriously."

Samantha laughed and said, "We'll see about that."

On the drive home I turned on the radio in my truck. I had turned it off earlier so that Samantha and I could talk, but now that I was alone, I decided that a little music would take my mind off the lingering scent of her perfume in the truck. The second song I heard seemed to seal my fate. It was "In a Different Light" by Doug Stone and I knew when I heard it that it would be prophetic for me in some way.

Chapter Two

I caught Joe Allen as he was entering the building the next morning. He was more than happy to agree with Samantha assisting me with Mr. Yoshida's visit, but his reasoning was a surprise.

Joe explained, "I don't mean to imply that Samantha is ambitious, but I have never met a person, man or woman, who has a better sense of their value and worth. She knows what she is capable of even if it is something that she has never attempted before. Her poise and self-confidence intimidate a lot of people. Samantha has become overqualified for her current role, and she knows it. I think that allowing her to get involved in other tasks might be the only way that I can prevent her from looking outside the company. She applies for almost every internal position that HR posts that is at a higher grade than hers, but her lack of a degree means that most managers won't even consider her for an interview. I have nominated her twice for the future leaders' program, but no one wants to give her a chance without a college degree."

I found it interesting that several of the traits that Joe had listed for Samantha were ones that I had recognized during our brief times together. There was one other trait that I recognized but Joe failed to mention, and that was 'passion'. I sensed that Samantha held a great deal of passion for people, places, or things that she believed deserved it. I couldn't speak to anything specific at that time, but from what Joe had mentioned, I wouldn't be surprised if her career was something that she would feel passionate about.

I said to Joe, "If you can spare her this afternoon, I'd like to review the tasks that I need to complete for Mr. Yoshida's visit with her. Before we decide on anything specific for her to help with, I'll run everything by you first to make certain that her schedule will accommodate them without impacting your team."

"That sounds fine. Things always slow down for us during the holidays so I'm sure that she will appreciate having things to keep her busy. She's all yours after lunch. I'll let her know to go see you."

"Thanks, but ask her to just call me when she's ready for lunch. I promised to treat her if you agreed to let her help me."

"You got it," Joe said. "Try to keep her happy. She's not an employee I would want to lose. Oh, and one more thing, never call her 'Sam'. She hates that and will ignore you if you address her by anything other than her full first name."

I shook his hand and said, "Good to know and I'll do my best. Thanks again."

When I returned to my office, I opened up a new Excel spreadsheet and created a project management table that listed the dates of Taka's visit and the locations that he wanted to see. I had it populated with specific tasks related to each of the locations, such as identifying the optimum time of the day to tour the facility, who the contact at each location would be, and the duration. I then spent the rest of the morning contacting each of the managers that I had listed as the site contact to verify their acceptance of the assignment.

My desk phone rang at eleven-forty-eight. "Allen Janson," I answered.

"Hi, AJ, this is Samantha. Are we still on for lunch?"

"Of course. Are you ready to go?"

"I am. Do you want me to come up there or meet you downstairs in the lobby?"

"It would be easier for me to come down to the lobby. I'll be right there."

"I'm on my way too. See you soon."

I left my suit jacket in my office and headed down the stairs leading to the lobby. Samantha was just entering the lobby from the hallway when I arrived. She looked as beautifully professional as ever in a sleeveless tan dress with white trim and matching heels. She carried the jacket that matched the dress and which would complete her ensemble when worn.

"Good timing," I said.

Her smile was mesmerizing as she strode towards me. "I'm all yours for the rest of the workday, however long that is. Where do you want to go for lunch?"

I held the doors to the parking lot open for her as I said, "I'm open for almost anything. Is there something that you haven't had recently or new that you want to try?"

"If you don't have any place specific in mind, can I make a suggestion?" she asked as I opened the passenger door for her.

"I would love to hear your suggestion," I said.

She waited until I had walked around my truck and taken my seat before speaking, "If you don't mind, could we go to the Maggiano's on Bristol down by South Coast Plaza?"

"Of course, I love that place, but there are Italian restaurants closer."

For the first time, Samantha seemed unsure of herself when she said, "I know, but I think it would be better if we ate lunch someplace not too close to the office. There would less chance of anyone from the company seeing us together and starting some gossip."

I knew exactly the kind of gossip that Samantha was referring to. Even being in the office as infrequently as I was, I still was aware of the rumors that got circulated when someone suspected that a couple of their coworkers were sharing time together for something other than business. More often than not, the rumors were false and the employees in question were as innocent as Samantha and I were in having lunch together today, but I could understand her concern, especially if she had been trying to get a position within a different group.

"We'll be as discrete as possible," I assured her. "But if anyone gives you flak over being seen with me, let me know."

She smiled warmly and said, "I'm more concerned about your reputation than mine."

I laughed and said, "I don't think there is much that being seen with you could do to hurt my reputation. Everyone already knows that I'm an asshole and overbearing tyrant."

Samantha laughed and said, "You are not! You are one of the most trusted and respected executives with the company. Everyone considers you the 'Go-To Guy' for almost any problem that needs a solution."

"Been checking up on me, have you?"

With a small degree of pride, she said, "I've done my homework. I didn't want to ask you for the favor I did without having some idea of how you would respond."

"Thanks for reminding me," I said. "If you can keep it between the two of us so that I don't have others asking for the same favor, I think I have a solution for you getting your husband a laser printer. It won't be brand new, and he'll have to come through me if it ever needs service or supplies, but otherwise, it should be the solution you were looking for."

"How much will it cost me?" Samantha asked in amazement.

"Nothing. It's the least I can do to repay you for helping me with Mr. Yoshida's visit. The printer is an engineering sample from Japan that was shown at a few recent trade shows. It can't be sold and Japan doesn't want to pay to have it shipped back, so I can either dispose of it or find another use that doesn't require it to have all the regulatory certifications. I use one very similar to it in my office. I'll need to get new firmware for it so that the operation panel display is in English instead of Japanese, but I already have that on its way. It should be here next week. Your husband uses Windows 3.1 on his computer, doesn't he?"