Page 23 of What I'm Looking For

Finally finding an open spot, I park my bike, grab my bag, and sprint for the backstage doors yelling, “I’m here!” to the assistant stage manager as I blow into the empty dressing room, throw on my costume, check my face in the mirror—the makeup from the commercial will just have to suffice—and then run to the greenroom where everyone stops what they’re doing to stare at me.

Jessica jumps up from a couch. “I knew you’d make it on time!”

“Places,” crackles over the loudspeaker.

I close my eyes and consciously slow my breathing. I’ve never done a show without doing a full vocal and physical warm-up, but I guess there’s a first time for everything.

Chapter7

BEEP. Tuesday, 6:02 a.m.

Kate, this is Gail. Apologies for the early call but Roland asked me to have you meet him at Logan as he’s running late. A car will pick you up at 7:30.

KATE

As Roland pilots us down the nearly empty two-lane highway winding through fields, forests and small towns, I enjoy the view. Everything’s greener here in North Carolina. Dogwoods are bursting with white blossom crosses, and bright pink and yellow wildflowers sway by the roadside. A huge contrast to gray, rainy, still-chilly Boston.

The landscape reminds me a lot of where I grew up, but I don’t remember seeing so many failing businesses near my parents’ place in northern Virginia. Towns here are full of boarded-up shop windows, fading signs and parking lots with more weeds poking through the asphalt than cars.

“Did the recession hit harder here?”

Roland turns down the radio and Kenny Loggins stops letting us know that he’s all right. “Sorry?”

“I was wondering if the recession was worse here. These little towns don’t seem like they’ve recovered.”

He stops at a light and juts his chin at a shop on the corner, where a screen door hangs off its hinges. “Well, many of the mom-and-pop establishments have been decimated by the rise of chain retail. Unemployment may be high, but as you’ll see, the factories we’re visiting have done a remarkable job utilizing robotics and other upgrades to stay afloat.”

A man sits smoking on a bench in front of the neglected storefront, his eyes hard. “Seems like some people paid a price.”

The light turns green, and Roland moves on. “If the entire company had gone under, then greater numbers would be out of a job. The positions that are left are better paying, less repetitive.”

Although his logic seems correct, it still feels wrong that shareholders profit while so many workers suffer. I guess I knew that was a danger when a company sold stock, but I hadn’t really seen the results up close and personal before. Maybe Will, with his distrust of anything having to do with business, has a point I haven’t previously plugged into my cost-benefit analyses.

Will. So different than the guys I work with, which is probably why he’s so intriguing. Even though I’m starting to appreciate Steve’s people savvy, I can’t imagine dating a huckster like him. I still can’t figure out what happened at the end of my coffee date with Will, though. It seemed like things were going well. At one point, I thought he was going to kiss me. But then he just ran down the stairs to the T like he couldn’t get away from me fast enough. Maybe, like my ex Jonathan, he finds an ambitious woman unattractive. If that’s the case, it’s better to find out sooner rather than later.

“Kate?” Roland waves a stack of paper under my nose. “Are you awake?”

“Yes, sorry.” I take the papers from him. “What do you need?”

“I think we’re getting close to our first stop. Can you check the directions? I can’t remember where the turnoff is.”

“Sure.” I scan what Gail typed up and cross-reference that with the map spread across my lap. “We take a left in a mile or so.”

“Lovely. We’ll be right on time. They’ve hired a new operations manager so it should be enlightening to see what changes they’re planning to make.”

As I direct him to Allied Industries, thoughts of human costs stew in the back of my mind, and I banish Will into an even deeper corner. I need to focus. Time to employ deep breathing. By the time Roland turns off the car, I’m ready for the job at hand: observing him as he meets with the managers of Allied, taking note of details about the operation that might affect the secondary stock offering we plan to recommend, and keeping my nerves in check as I do my best to impress both the clients and my boss.

* * *

Later that afternoonoutside the Creighton Hosiery factory, our last stop of the day, I start to sweat the instant I step out of the car. As we walk inside the entrance, we’re hit with a blast of cold air that has me shivering. Life in the South.

George Polk, the plant’s rotund and pink-faced general manager, shakes my hand vigorously and squeezes my upper arm just a hair too long. After we exchange greetings, he tries to help me insert earplugs in preparation for touring the manufacturing floor, warning me that it will be “awful loud.”

Even with earplugs, I’m unprepared for the sensory assault as I step through the heavy swinging doors. It must be at least twenty degrees hotter in here. My legs feel like sausages inside my hose.

My face must reveal my discomfort because Polk puts a hand on my shoulder and squeezes. “You sure you don’t want to wait in the offices, honey? My girl can make you a cup of coffee and we can meet you there when we’re done here. I want to show Roland some of our upgrades.”

“No, thank you,” I shout, doing my best to turn my frown upside down. “I would like to see everything.”

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