The Bitch and the Bastard

"Marilyn...I got that right didn't I? You're Marilyn."

Marilyn nodded.

"OK, great. I need you to plot this data for me. I'd do it but I'm up to my eyeballs in analyzing what it means. No hurry, as long as I get it by the end of the week. Any questions?"

Marilyn looked up at him and frowned.

"I don't do graphs for quality. That's Debbie's job."

John smiled then.

"I know Debbie is supposed to do these, but she's covered up with making all the charts we're putting on the floor. I talked to your manager, Mark, and he said it would be all right if you did them. You having a bad day or something? You seem a bit touchy."

Marilyn was taken aback by that last remark. Everybody else had come to terms with her personality and usually just ignored her. Nobody ever asked how she was feeling. John had, and she didn't know what to think. Somebody had to have told him about her by now. She decided he was probably laughing at her too.

"No worse than any day when somebody gives me a bunch of work I'm not supposed to have to do."

She saw John arch his eyebrows, but he was still smiling.

"Well, I apologize, but it has to be done. If it's any consolation, I've seen your graphs and you do a better job than Debbie. That's why I asked Mark if I could borrow you. You know where I sit if you have any questions."

With that, John walked away without giving Marilyn the satisfaction of frowning at him again.

What a bastard, thought Marilyn. Just because he has a masters degree he thinks he can ask for anything he wants and he'll get it. He even said "borrow me" like I'm some damned garden rake. On top of all that, he was looking at me like he knew. I know he was. I saw it in his eyes. The only reason he asked if I was having a bad day was he wanted to laugh at me if I said anything that gave him a reason to. Well, screw his graphs and screw him. I'll do his damned graphs for him, but I won't like it and he won't like it when throw them in his face.

Marilyn started the first of the six graphs that afternoon with the full intention of doing them as fast as she could no matter how they turned out, but once she began, she couldn't just plot the points like Debbie would have. Marilyn always took pride in her work, and especially in making graphs. It was a challenge to make all the little dots the same size and to put them exactly where they belonged. It was a challenge to draw the standard graph header used by Crofton and to letter in all the information.

Marilyn was soon lost in plotting each point and lost track of time until she heard John's voice.

"Hey, Marilyn. It's almost six. You don't need to work over on these. Like I said, I don't need them until Friday."

Marilyn looked up then and realized the office was empty except for her and John. She tried to think of something to say that would make him go away, but she couldn't. She couldn't because he was trying to tell her she was working too hard, and nobody ever did that. The only thing they ever did was complain to Mark about how she acted, and they never even did that anymore.

"I...I guess I got so involved I didn't realize what time it was."

John raised his eyebrows again.

"That doesn't sound like the Marilyn I've heard about."

Marilyn couldn't stop her self from snapping out what she was thinking.

"What have you heard about me?"

"Oh, just that you're a bit hard to deal with sometimes. Don't know why. You don't seem to be that way to me."

Marilyn snapped at him again.

"I'm sure that's not all you've heard about me."

"Well, no, it isn't. Debbie says you can be pretty cold sometimes, but being a statistician, I don't usually believe anything I hear. I prefer to look at the data and make up my own mind. That graph is looking really nice, by the way. Why don't you call it a day before you get tired and mess something up?"

John walked away then, and Marilyn just sat there with her mouth open. She couldn't figure him out. She'd been successful in distancing herself from everybody, but here he was trying to be friendly even though he said he'd heard she was hard to deal with and was a cold person. He had to want something from her but she couldn't imagine what that might be. She was still wondering when she left the building and drove home.

Marilyn worked on the graphs until she finished them late Thursday afternoon. It was almost five when she took them to John's cubicle. He looked at the first one, and then kept looking back and forth between the data sheet and the graph to make sure she'd plotted all the points correctly. Marilyn had already said she'd checked them three times so she knew they were right, but John just asked her to sit in the chair beside his desk while he confirmed that.

Marilyn sat down, but she was fuming inside. He might be trying to be nice to her, but the bastard was going to make her sit there until he looked at every point on every graph. She hadn't planned anything for that night, but it was still asking too much of her. She wished she'd messed up somehow so he wouldn't ask her to do anything for him ever again. Then, she realized she couldn't have done that without compromising her personal standards, and just sat there waiting.

It was almost six when John put down the last graph and looked at her.

"Marilyn, this is excellent work. I was going to just use the numbers in my presentation tomorrow, but now, I'm going to show your graphs because they'll get my points across much better than numbers. I couldn't have done half as good a job. Thanks for all the time and effort you put in."

Marilyn was at a loss for words, and John noticed.

"I figured on at least a thank you for saying you did a good job. Don't you think you did?"

"Well, yes, I do."

John grinned.

"That's better. You know what, I haven't had dinner yet, and I know you haven't. Wanna grab a pizza at that place down the street? I hear their seven meat pizza is just short of wonderful."

Marilyn still didn't know how to respond.

"I...I don't know. I usually just have a salad at night."

John slapped his forehead.

"I should have know that. Just chalk it up to me being a dumb-ass statistician. I should have known that as good as you look, you probably watch what you eat pretty closely. My ex always did, not that it helped her all that much. She'd make two of you. What say I get a pizza and you get a salad? Would that work for you?"

Things were happening so fast Marilyn couldn't keep them straight. First, John had said she'd done an excellent job -- not good, not OK, he'd said excellent. Then he'd tricked her into saying she thought she'd done a good job too. A second later he'd asked her to have dinner with him. It was too much too fast.

"I don't know, I usually don't go out to eat during the week because I have to work the next day. Maybe some other time."

John smiled.

"OK. Tomorrow night, I'll pick you up about seven and we'll go have that pizza... and your salad, of course. No, that won't work. I have no idea where you live and asking for your address would be asking too much. Let's just meet at the pizza place about seven. That'll give us time to enjoy our meal and get to know each other a little better."

When Marilyn left the plant she couldn't believe she'd said she'd meet John there. The only reason she had was he seemed to just assume she would. He hadn't actually asked after that first time. He'd just planned everything like she'd already said yes so she couldn't very well tell him no. When she thought about that, it made her shake her head. What was wrong with her? If any other man had done that, she'd have told him to go screw himself.

When Marilyn drove into the parking lot of the pizza place that night, she saw John waiting at the door. He was smiling when she walked up to him.

"I got here early so I wouldn't miss you. I don't like to leave a woman sitting in a restaurant by herself. It's not very respectful. You ready to dive into your salad?"

Marilyn didn't talk much during the meal. She kept stuffing salad into her mouth so she wouldn't have to. It was a big salad, so John was done with his pizza a little before she finished. They did have a conversation of sorts, though. John told her about going to college to become a statistician and then deciding to get his masters. He didn't say what he'd done before being hired at Crofton or why he'd changed jobs, and she didn't ask.

John had asked her some questions. He asked how long she'd worked at Crofton and she told him ten years. Then he asked her if she liked working there and Marilyn had to think a little. She finally told him her job paid well and she liked what she did for the most part. He'd grinned then.

"I thought you didn't like doing work for people who weren't in the engineering department?"

He kept catching her off guard, and Marilyn was having a struggle answering without revealing much about herself.

"Usually I don't, but in this case I had to."

John had smiled then.

"What would you say if I said I'd asked Mark if you could do all my secretarial stuff for me?"

Marilyn stopped moving the fork of lettuce to her mouth.

"Why would you do that?"

John shrugged.

"Debbie does an OK job, but she's just a secretary. When I saw you doing my graphs, I realized you have the ability to do a lot more than type letters and reports. You didn't ask me any questions. You just did what I'd asked you to do. The last time I asked Debbie to do something for me, I had to explain what I needed twice. Please don't tell her I said that about her. It's the truth, but I don't want her to feel bad. It's not her fault. She's just not as capable as you are."

Over the next four months, Marilyn did a lot more graphs and charts for John, and when he taught her how to calculate averages and standard deviations and what they meant, she started doing the analysis of the control charts from the manufacturing floor. She didn't change the way she interacted with anybody else, but once in a while, she found herself smiling when John gave her another assignment.

The last one he'd given her was a real challenge. She had to do the analysis of the latest control charts and then plot those results with the results from the past months to show which departments had gotten better and which were the same or worse. John wanted it done by Friday when he came back. She was basically working for John full-time now, and while she never told him, she secretly enjoyed it.

She thought it strange that, like that week, he'd lately been taking two days off in the middle of the week. He'd always make sure she had plenty to do during those two days, but he never said what he was doing. He'd only tell her what he needed and than ask if she could have it done by that Friday or the next Monday.

Marilyn knew he couldn't have that much vacation yet. The first year you worked for Crofton, you only got five days. John had already used twice that many days. If anybody else had done that, they'd probably at least have gotten a stern talking to if not fired, but she never saw John in the quality manager's office with the door closed. She'd never asked him what he was doing. That would make it seem as if she was interested in him, and while she was a little, other people would start talking about her again.

On Friday afternoon, she took her charts and reports to the conference room after John said he'd meet her there. He looked at each one, and then asked her if she'd help him put them up on the corkboards that lined the walls. They finished a little after five, and after John stood back and looked at everything, he looked at her and smiled.

"Marilyn, you make my life too easy. I can walk in here on Monday morning, give my presentation without ever doing a graph or analyzing a control chart. All I have to do this weekend is write down what I'm going to say to the department managers. They're going to be happy, because what we've done is reduce variability by fifty percent and cut defects in half. I owe you dinner for what you've done. Can you be ready by seven?"

Just as before, Marilyn had to say she could because John just assumed she would.

"I guess I can. Where are we going?"

John smiled.

"This is worth more than a pizza. I was thinking Fisherman's Wharf. I just got back from Boston and I want to see if East Coast seafood is better than what we get here."

He grinned then.

"I'm sure they have salads too, but it wouldn't hurt you to splurge once in a while, now would it?"

So, John had been in Boston instead of Crofton. Marilyn knew it was none of her business, but she asked the question anyway. John's face turned serious, the first time Marilyn had ever seen him look that way.

"That's another reason for having dinner together. I want to talk with you about that."

Marilyn went home and changed from her pants and blouse to a conservative dress, refreshed her makeup, and then drove to Fisherman's Wharf. John was waiting at the door for her, and smiled when she walked up.

"Wow, you look great. I mean, you always do at work, but this is something else."

Marilyn couldn't stop the smile, but she tried to be modest.

"It's just a dress. It's nothing special, but I thought it wouldn't be right to wear pants and a blouse to a place like this."

John opened the door.

"Well, let's get inside so everybody else can see how great you look and be jealous of me."

They talked for a while about what had happened at work while John ate his scrod fillet and Marilyn ate her salmon. Marilyn kept waiting for John to tell her about Boston, but he seemed to be avoiding it. They'd finished and the waitress had taken their plates when John smiled.

"This isn't a good place to have our talk, but I know somewhere that is. Ever been to Reggie's?"

Marilyn knew about Reggie's. It was a very up-scale bar that catered to relatively wealthy clientele. It was also expensive which is why she'd never been there.

"No, it's pretty pricey from what I hear. I'm not even sure where it is."

John smiled.

"Tonight, money is no object, so just follow me."

Reggie's wasn't at all what Marilyn expected. She'd thought it would be about like any other bar, just with no young kids. There would still be music playing and the noise of a lot of people. There was music -- soft jazz -- but other than that, it was quiet in spite of the number of people. The people at the tables were huddled together and talking in soft voices.

John escorted Marilyn to a table away from most of the others and then held her chair while she sat down. When the young waitress walked up and asked what they were having, John said, "I'll have a Grand Marnier. Had the first one in Paris, and I've loved it ever since. Marilyn, what would you like?"

Marilyn had never been much of a drinker, so she asked for the only drink she could remember having.

"I'll have a rum and Coke, if that's all right."

John looked up at the waitress.

"Bring the lady a rum and Coke, please."

After the girl brought their drinks and then left, Marilyn took a deep breath.

"First it was Boston, and now...you've really been to Paris?"

"Yes, several times. That's what I want to talk to you about.

"I wasn't actually hired by Crofton Industries. I signed a contract for six months, so I have a month left before I leave. Crofton needed a way to get started and I needed a few months to get everything back on track, so it worked out for both of us. They have a young statistician who'll take over for me when I leave.

"I know, I'm confusing you. Let me start over.

"For the past ten years, I've owned my own consulting and training company. It was just me, and I made a pretty good living by showing companies how statistics can help them and by training their quality people in statistical techniques. Statistical control is a huge movement in manufacturing right now and will be for the foreseeable future because it works. I started offering classes in that as well.

"I had to cut back my schedule because my wife and I were in the process of divorcing, and I couldn't be out of the country or anywhere else for very long at a time. The divorce was finalized two weeks ago, so I'm ready to pick up where I left off. I already have a full schedule for the next six months and I've gotten inquiries from several other companies who seem very interested. It's just a matter of negotiating what they want me to do and how much they're willing to pay. My trip to Boston was to finalize those negotiations with one company and get them to sign a contract.

"What I wanted to talk to you about is I need some help and I wondered if you'd consider working for me. Because it's just me, I don't have a formal retirement plan, but I can provide health insurance, and I can pay you twice what you're making now. You'd do about the same things you do now until I can teach you some more. After that, we'd work together on every job teaching people and guiding them through how to analyze data and make sense of what it says.

"I can promise you'll go to places you've probably only read about. There are a lot of US-based companies who have foreign factories, and once I've held a seminar in the US, they want me to go to Europe or South America or Australia and train their people there.

I'm scheduled to go back to Paris in two months, Scotland a month after that, and probably Ireland if everything works out. In between, there will be Arizona, Montana, Florida, and Colorado, and those are just the week long seminars. There are a lot more that only take a couple days. Those are the seminars I've been doing when I wasn't in the plant. My contract allows me to do that.

"I know this is a huge decision for you, so I don't need an answer right away. The offer will be open even after I leave Crofton. I've looked at some other people, but none of them fit like you do, so I hope you'll give it some serious thought."

Marilyn had been sitting there with her mouth open since John had asked if she'd come work for him. She couldn't believe he'd even consider something like that knowing what he had to know about her. She took a sip of her drink to have a little time to think, and then looked at John.

"John, I don't think you want me to work for you. I'm not what you seem to think I am."

He frowned.

"Is it because of what I've heard about you from at least twenty different people?"

Marilyn nodded.

"Yes."

John reached over and touched her hand.

"Marilyn, I once told you I never believe anything I hear. The stories I heard were all pretty much the same but they were all different. To me, that means they're mostly gossip. I did go to the library and look up the newspaper accounts. What they told me was probably closer to the truth, but I don't believe everything I read either. One of the reasons I don't believe the stories is because I can understand why it happened, and I probably understand better than anyone else.

"My wife didn't travel with me. She had her own job and she liked it, so she kept working when I started traveling all over the world. I was always busy. During the day, I taught and did studies for the companies. At night, I was entertaining the upper level managers so they'd keep hiring me. Jennifer was busy during the day, but she sat at home alone every night.

"Eventually, she got tired of that. She just wanted to be with someone, and she found someone to be with. She didn't try to hide it from me. She told me it was either that or she'd have gone crazy. We had a long talk and decided it would be best if we split up. I wasn't going to give up my business and she wasn't going to sit by herself waiting for me to come home.

"I don't know if that was your situation or not, but I'd guess it was something similar. You don't impress me as a woman who went out looking for just anybody so she could have sex."