Page 1 of Stick to the Plan
Chapter one
I Hate Mondays
Brianna
Shit, I’m late. Eight AM staff meetings are yet another way to torture employees. My stiletto pump taps sharply against the tile floor of the elevator of C.A. Engineering Corp. Fucking move faster!
Stupid highway drivers; I would have been early if everyone hadn’t slowed down to stare at the accident. I slip out of my jacket and dig out my tablet as I watch the numbers crawl by - preparing to bolt as soon as the doors opened with a bing.
I walk past cubicles with short walls as the sun shines through tall windows. Despite the day just starting, the maze of desks is already humming. The lowered conversation tones mix with the clacking of keyboards and the occasional hiss of a coffee machine somewhere.
Without breaking stride, I drop my purse and jacket over the cube wall onto my desk and continue towards the glass doors of the conference room at the end of the aisle. One quick glance at my watch shows it is 8:05 AM. Crap, he’s going to skin me alive. There goes my chance at that promotion. No worries, I’ll bust my ass for the next two years until the next one.
With one last deep, calming breath, I square my shoulders and open the giant door. Ten sets of suited shoulders turn towards me. Ten pairs of eyes fill with either derision, pity or, in one particular case, rage.
“Thank you for joining us, Barbie. What kept you, a sale at the mall?” Richard Stone, Senior Director of Research and Development, my boss, and a majorDick. He sits in his customary seat at the head of the 20 foot glass and steel conference table. With his cropped blond hair, ice-blue eyes, and hard jaw, he looks as cold and intimidating as he acts in the boardroom.
Stay calm; he’s trying to get a reaction out of you. “Apologies, sir. There was an accident blocking two lanes on the highway.”
Richard glares at me with his icy stare for another ten seconds before turning back to the rest of the room.
“Now, as I was saying. There’s a lot going on this week for C.A. Engineering Corp.”
I quickly take the last remaining seat at the table. My chest expands with deep breaths to calm the fire in my belly. I adjust the hem on my knee length pencil skirt under the table and cross my ankles.
Barbie!? I hate it when he calls me that.
The mall? As if all women only live for clothing and shopping.
Ok, so maybe I enjoy dressing nicely. Just because the “old boys’ club” outnumbers me 5 to 1 doesn’t mean I need to dress like a man! I don’t see the big deal about a black skirt and a white blouse!
Opening my tablet case and smoothing my silk blouse, I force myself to relax the tight ridges forming between my eyebrows. In my peripheral vision, a handsome man about my age sits further down the table. He’s wearing a gray vest and lilac button-down shirt. Fucking lilac! Johnson dresses like a freaking GQ model in a $200 shirt and I’m the Barbie Doll here? Okay.
At the other end of the room, Richard clears his throat and continues. “As you know, we have been in talks with Innovative Solutions, a small development firm based in Ireland, on a new joint project. The bulk of the team will be from this office, but a representative from I.S. will arrive today to act as point person. I expect all of you to welcome Mr McLeary to C.A.E. and do everything you can to make this project a success. Now, I want updates on your current projects. Then I’ll decide who will run point from our side. Johnson, you start.”
One by one, they take turns giving status updates. Most have nothing new to report since last week. Some have unforeseen schedule delays. These unlucky souls have to verbally tap dance around the issues. Such is the lot of a project manager in a development industry.
You’re handed a project with little to no details and told to go make it happen, quickly and cheaply. You develop a task list and timeline to accomplish the work, hoping you thought of everything and it all goes right the first time. The job doesn’t come with a crystal ball, things rarely stick to the plan. You adjust and remove obstacles the best you can. It is stressful, challenging, thankless, often brutal - and I love every minute.
“Ms Chance?” One blond eyebrow raises as Richard turns to me.
“The Sit Co project is complete; the customer received the product last week. I should have the closeout report submitted today. The Smart Screen project finished product testing last week. It passed all the functional tests, quality control checks, and received high marks in the user tests. Production begins this week.”
“Sit Co is complete?”
I turn to face him directly, my emotionless mask firmly in place. “Yes, sir.”
Richard flips through his notes and a crease appears between his eyes. “Two months ahead of schedule?”
“I found areas in the schedule that we could work in parallel to save time, and made it clear to the vendors that late merchandise was unacceptable.”
For a moment I swear I see admiration in his eyes, but just as quickly, whatever the emotion, it’s gone and Richard moves on to the next suit. One more update, and he adjourns the meeting. Almost as one, we all rise and exit the room.
“Ms. Chance, a moment,” Richard says, his voice cracks like a whip.
Already halfway to the door, I pause. Damn.
“Of Course, sir.”
