1000 Words

Page 15

WITH THE LAST of his scotch and his sketchbook, Ian sat on his balcony looking at the lights of the city and began to dream about what he’d like to do in life with the woman of his dreams.

She wants to travel and see the country—the world. She’s a free spirit and is ready to go at the drop of a hat. She packs light so we can fly to Paris or hitchhike to Disneyland. She’s up for the cheap way to get there because the journey is as exciting as the destination. If there is an adventure to be had, she is ready to take it. If we can’t find an adventure, we’ll make one up. She’s not a daredevil or adrenalin junkie—if she jumps out of an airplane it’s because the plane is crashing. But flying along behind a boat on a kite? She’d find that fun. She’s not concerned about money. Between us, we have enough to live simply and fulfill dreams. She doesn’t accumulate stuff. She knows she might need to leave it all behind to do something new.

Ian wasn’t called in for another interview, nor was he given a project as a consultant. He didn’t go online for three days. Instead, he focused on the pad of drawing paper with a No.2 pencil and his dream of the perfect woman for him. And before his eyes, she took shape in 1,000 words.

She’s youthful in appearance and action, though she is probably older than she looks. She stays healthy and fit because she has an active life. It’s not just that she’s youthful; she makes me feel younger when I’m with her. She encourages me to be healthy and fit by being a person I want to keep up with.

She’s pretty. That doesn’t mean she’s a fashion model or a Playboy centerfold. She has a pretty face and smile. She lights up a room when she smiles and I respond by thinking, “Gee, she’s pretty!” When she turns that smile toward me, I feel like the most important person in the universe. My smile, in turn, tells her she is the most beautiful woman in the world. The rest of her body complements that smile. It reflects the beauty I see when I look in her eyes. She turns me on. I desire her.

A picture can only show how she looks, but what’s inside is even more important. She’s smart. She doesn’t need to be a Rhodes Scholar to prove it, though that would be okay. She has a broad life view with experience to back it up. She sees past petty issues that crop up and stays focused on the big things. She reads and investigates to find out what is true and what isn’t.

She has ideas. Lots of ideas. And she likes to talk about them. We have long discussions about things that no one else would think of. Her voice is clear and even when she speaks quietly, I have no problem hearing her. It’s like she’s attuned to my ears. When we’ve talked about an idea—maybe an article we read, a book, a movie, or deep philosophical musings—she embraces the silence. We can sit enjoying each other’s company for hours without saying anything.

She’s funny—sometimes by accident and sometimes by design. She has a good sense of humor and can see the lighter side of almost any situation. She likes to laugh. She thinks I’m funny, too, though not necessarily funny-looking. She smiles at me and makes a face when I say something stupid, then breaks out laughing.

She wants to travel and see the country—the world. She’s a free spirit and is ready to go at the drop of a hat. She packs light so we can fly to Paris or hitchhike to Disneyland. She’s up for the cheap way to get there because the journey is as exciting as the destination. If there is an adventure to be had, she is ready to take it. If we can’t find an adventure, we’ll make one up. She’s not a daredevil or adrenalin junkie—if she jumps out of an airplane it’s because the plane is crashing. But flying along behind a boat on a kite—she’d find that fun. She’s not concerned about money. Between us, we have enough to live simply and fulfill dreams. She doesn’t accumulate a lot of stuff because she knows she might need to leave it all behind so we can do something new.

She doesn’t need me. She wants me. She is complete, whole, and content with who she is, but likes being with me. She likes having me to plan with and to play with. It’s more fun, and she likes having fun. She has ideas about where to go and who to visit along the way, but doesn’t need to be in any one place to be happy. She’s happy when she is with me, and I am happy with her.

I’m not her last hope. She’s not desperate for love, for a family, for sex, or for money. She’s happy if any of those come her way as a bonus for being with me. She gives me a reason to get up in the morning, to work, to play, to adventure. And she gives me a reason to turn off my computer and go to bed at night. Both the getting up and the going to bed reasons fill my heart with joy.

She’s comfortable in her own skin and makes me comfortable in it as well. If we’re just hanging around, clothing is optional and usually discarded. She loves to cuddle and kiss. Feeling her skin against my skin sends a thrill through our bodies. We’re happy to just be in touch, but if something else comes up, we’re happy for that, too.

Her spiritual side is revealed in the way she cares about other people, the land, the animals. She might have a religion, but she doesn’t feel compelled to convert anyone to it, nor does she have patience for people trying to convert her. It is deeply personal and respected by both of us. Our shared spiritual experience is in the sunset, the waves lapping on the shore, the stark desert, the lush jungle, and the depth of our love. In these things, we come together as one heart and soul.

She appreciates my unique talent and has a talent that I can equally appreciate. Recognizing each other’s strengths, we can collaborate on new and creative projects that bring us both fulfillment and joy.

We share simple needs, have simple desires, eat simple food, drink simple wine. We don’t overindulge because when we are with each other, we have plenty of stimulation we can enjoy with clear heads. She keeps her wits about her, even if I’m near to losing mine. She’s neat and tidy, but doesn’t get stressed out if I leave the dishes until morning.

Most of all, she wants to be with me for this part of our journey and if we grow apart as companions or lovers, we will still be together as friends. Our relationship is built on respect, trust, and care for each other. From that comes love.

Ian read what he’d written. He’d spent hours erasing and rewriting. He looked again at the rules for setting goals. Specific. Measurable. Attainable. Relevant. Time-bound. He added a line.

She is out there and I will find her within a year.

He looked at the empty scotch bottle that hadn’t been touched in three days and tossed it in the recycling. He ran hot water in the kitchen sink and washed the dishes, dried them, and put them away. He pulled out his little vacuum cleaner and ran it across the floors before taking all the accumulated garbage and recycling to their repositories. He stripped his bed, gathered his dirty clothes, and went to the laundry room. He sat watching the clothes tumble in the dryer and thought about what he wanted.

What is it that she wants from me?

“Ian, it’s Floyd Anderson,” the voice said when Ian answered his phone.

“Hello, Mr. Anderson. Did I fail to complete the exit interview?” Ian asked. He couldn’t imagine why his former boss would be calling.

“Let’s leave it at Floyd. We’ve been too formal for too long,” Anderson said. “How’s your vacation? Ready to get back to work?”

“It’s been productive,” Ian hedged. He’d cleaned his apartment and written a description of his ideal woman. That was productive.

“Melrose isn’t going to call you, Ian. We talked.”

“You blackballed me?”

“Quite the opposite. I gave you a very good recommendation. I was glad you were considering a good agency,” Anderson said. “They went behind you. They hired Jack and Georgia.”

“Shit.”

“No loss here. They hadn’t sold a campaign since you left. I found out a lot of things that hadn’t surfaced before you left. None of them were good.” Anderson cleared his throat and began his pitch. Ian could recognize the change in tenor. He was going to be sold something. He waited.

“This is a cut-throat business as you well know, Ian. We have good employee retention here because we’ve tried to compensate our people fairly and provide a positive work environment. Sometimes we mess up on that and lose an employee who was truly valuable, like you, Ian. It usually plays out on the other side. Employees use us as a stepping stone into a better, more lucrative, or more powerful position. That’s what happened with Jack and Georgia. They’d been planning their move for over a year and Melrose had just hired them when he interviewed you. Jack is now the Vice President of Sales and he took Georgia and Stew with him. When he found out you had interviewed, he said he wouldn’t have you on his team. That’s why you won’t be hired.”

“It’s a blessing. If I’d gone there and found he was the boss, I’d have quit on the spot. A short-lived employment record.”

“That’s the thing, Ian. You weren’t using us as a stepping stone. You liked your job here and you were good at it. You left out of principle. Few people in this industry have those. It took me a while to figure that one out, but when I discovered how long it had taken for you to get an interview at Melrose, I realized you didn’t have a plan for leaving our agency. That’s why I want you to come back,” Anderson said. “I need a man with principles to run creative and sell our big ideas.”

“Run creative?”

“That’s right. I know your strength is writing. You’ll do a lot of it. But I want to infuse our whole new team with the kind of principles you demonstrated. We’ve got the opportunity to bid the entire marketing campaign for Restore Youth. It’s right up your alley and I’ll give you full license to run the show. Come back, Ian. You’ll like your new employment package and we have some crackerjack people lined up for you to interview to fill out your team. I’ve talked to those from the old team that are still here and they are enthused to have you take the reins. We need you, Ian. And I think you need us.”

Ian couldn’t believe he was walking back into his old office again. It was more accurate to say into his former employer’s office. The office he was led to was formerly Jack’s. It was a nice corner that overlooked the lake on one side and the city on the other. It was large enough to have a conference table as well as his desk and a small conversation grouping of comfortable chairs. If he needed to, he could live here. The office had a bar, microwave, refrigerator, and private bathroom. He didn’t need to put filtering shades on the windows.

He tossed his briefcase on the table and looked around as the door clicked shut behind him. That had to change first off. He raised the shade on the sidelight and locked it so the window was fully exposed. The door opened inward to the other side and he pulled it all the way back against the wall. Lacking a doorstop, it would swing closed if he let go. He grabbed one of the comfy chairs and pushed it against the door to hold it open. Then he got out a yellow legal pad from his briefcase and wrote ‘doorstop’ at the top of the page. He’d make a shopping list or ask the supply room what they had.

The desk faced the door and his back would be to the window. The glare of morning light would hit his screen. He needed to rotate the desk so it was against the wall with the door to his right and the windows left and forward. He was just getting ready to shift the furniture when there was a knock at the door. Ian turned.

“Mr. Marx, I’m Davey from tech support. I’m here to get you set up on your computer, sir.”

“Davey, I’m Ian,” he answered. “I wonder if you could help me shift my desk before you set up my computer. I’d like it to face that way.”

“Really? You don’t want the power position?” Davey asked. “Mr. Delaney wanted people to see him as soon as they opened the door, like he was a god.”

“People won’t have to open the door to see me. If I’m in the office, I’ll be visible when they walk by.”

“I heard from a couple of the creative people who still work here that you were a little odd. That wasn’t meant as an insult. Sorry!”

“No offense taken. Do I need to be here while you set up the computer?”

“Not until it’s time to log on. I’ll give you a temporary user ID and password. Change it as soon as you get back to the office. I’ll write it down for you,” Davey said when they finished moving the desk. It was heavy.

“I think I’ll take a little walk through the department and talk to people as they come in.”

Ian left his office and walked through the open workspace. When it was originally designed, it was intended to be a collaborative environment where artists chose a workstation to complement the work they had to do at that moment. No one had a permanent desk. There were drafting tables, easels, computer stations, and work areas where three or four people could turn to face each other and consult on a project. In theory, it was good. In fact, people still staked out their turf, claimed a workstation as their own, and were angry when someone else touched it. When Jack moved into the large corner office and closed the door, it solidified isolation as the desired workspace. He needed to resolve the issue with the older employees before he brought in new ones.

“Good morning, Lee,” Ian said as the somewhat scatterbrained photographer came into the room.

“Ian! You’re back! They said you would be, but I don’t believe anything until I see it—and take a picture.” He swung his camera up and snapped off a shot of Ian with a bemused expression on his face. “Great! That’s just great!” Lee said.

“Can you set up to catch a candid of everyone this morning?” Ian asked. “I think we should have a gallery of photos on the wall over there. Feel free to add to it at any time, but try to keep it balanced and don’t just take pictures of your favorite girl. Can you do that?”

“That’ll be fun. I need to leave at nine to do a photoshoot for the ‘Little Darlings’ swimwear line. If I don’t get everyone this morning, I’ll just keep shooting until I have them all.”

“We’ll have some new people starting soon, too, so that shouldn’t be a problem. Who did the concept?”

“Drake got with the new girl, Penny. They hashed out the whole thing as a joint project. It’s sweet.”

“That’s good to hear. Do you have everything you need here in the office? How’s your workspace?” Ian asked.

“I don’t spend all that much time up here. We’ve got the studio on the 19th floor. I could use a bigger monitor for photo editing and better light control, but I think all the artists feel the same way,” Lee said.

“That’s good to know. I’ll talk to everyone else, too.” Ian made a note on his legal pad regarding the photo wall and the new monitors and lighting. For the rest of the morning, Ian talked to the staff as they got to work. Everyone echoed Lee’s opinion about monitors and light. A few said the space was too noisy. Two people said they just wanted a single place they could go to and call their own.

“Knock-knock. Hi, Ian. I’m Penny,” the bright redhead announced at his door. “Are you going to leave the door open all the time? It’s great to be able to see out the window from the pit.”

“Any time you need a light break, feel free to come in and stare out the window.” Wow! She was awesome. Thirty-one, he knew from her HR file. He hadn’t expected her bubbly personality or quirky beauty. It made him smile.

“Really? That would be great,” she said. “I wasn’t here this morning when you were talking to everyone because I was downstairs getting ready for the photo shoot. So, what do you want to know?” she asked. She plopped down on the sofa and put her feet on the coffee table. Ian leaned back in his chair and copied her move by putting his feet on his desk.

“How are you settling in?” he asked. “You’ve been here about six weeks now, right?”

“Yeah. Apparently, I got hired right after you left on vacation.”

“I quit. I didn’t go on vacation.”

“Really? Everybody but that bitch artist, Georgia, said you’d be back soon. Jack said something about it being after he was dead and buried, but I guess he is.” She was irreverent and flippant. Ian smiled. He was liking her.

“What about your workspace? How does our so-called open pit work for you?” He didn’t expect her loud laugh.

“Open pit? Like the barbecue sauce?” Ian got the inadvertent joke.

“Well, I am grilling you.”

“Believe me, when I’m on a project, you could stick me in the knee-hole under your desk and it wouldn’t bother me. I can work anywhere.” Ian put his feet down and looked under the desk. “Oh, God! I probably shouldn’t have given you that image. I mean, I’m not really into… you know. That’s why I have writers. I’m not safe writing my own material.”

“How did the shoot go this morning?” Ian asked, ignoring the implication of her getting under his desk—or at least, trying to.

“It was a blast. Lee is a riot when he gets on-set. And Drake is a dream to work with. I think Little Darlings will love the promo. It starts with one of their little bikinis on a five-year-old. Then we have this totally stacked babe wearing it at the beach. The tagline is ‘the swimwear you never grow out of.’ We had a blast shooting the stills. You’d really think the little girl was the same person as the college girl.”

“And it was your idea?”

“Oh, God, no! I just did the storyboard to interpret what Drake had written in his description. Then I worked with Lee to get the models in the right positions to work with the background art he’d found.”

“So, we did the pictures of both models against a blue screen and cut them into a background? Sounds like some good planning.”

“Lee was able to find stock beach scenes that we could use that were almost a perfect match for what I drew. It’s really great working with him.”

“Well, I’ll let you get back to it. Thanks for stopping in when you were finished.”

“No probs. If I get to be too much a nuisance sitting in your office staring out the window, though, kick me out!” She waved as she left and Ian sighed. He almost asked her out, but he was determined not to be that kind of boss. Still, if he met her outside the work environment, she’d be a perfect match for three items on his list. Maybe a lot more. He guessed he’d find out what she was really like to work with when they started the new Restore Youth campaign.

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