said. “Took me all of two days to get those bytes I needed.”
Others joined in the bashing, and the laughter made it easier. Not much easier. She really hated leaving…right in the midst of everything it seemed. Things changed fast in softwear, and you had to be on the ball to get there first. And they were getting there, for instance what Mike was developing with—
“Stop it, you guys! Come on, Lisa.” Pam, who was fashioning a special keyboard that was bound to be a major success, led her to the table. “Help yourself. Coffee?”
Lisa nodded and smiled at the Japanese girl she had hired only a few short months before. One of the three new people she had hired after convincing the head office that if they were to capture the international market, they had to offer a keyboard and program compatible with the nuances of the different languages. But now that she was leaving…
Egotist! You think you’re the whole kit and caboodle, that the wheels of progress stop with your departure? These are the scientists and technicians. You were just one spoke in the wheel.
An important spoke, she told herself with a touch of bitterness. I dealt with the idiosyncracies of this talented crew, I was the mediator between them and management, I fought for their ideas, got the supplies, monitored the deadlines, and—
“I brought champagne,” Mike said.
“And I baked the cake,” Linda said.
“I thank you both. My favorite drink, and my favorite cake,” she said, forcing a jocular mood. She sure wasn’t going to spoil the goodbye party they had planned. “You guys go easy on these goodies. What’s left goes home with me,”
“Stashing, huh?”
“Sure. No telling how long before another paycheck.” Lisa laughed with them. There was another job out there waiting for her, and she’d find it. She wasn’t worried, and the good mood held.
At the end of the day, as she approached the elevator, she felt the familiar prickles of panic, more pronounced because of the morning’s episode. The champagne may have bolstered her. Anyway, several others were risking the downward plunge so, despite the mounting trepidation, she managed to board with them.
She shut her eyes, remembering, feeling the claustrophobia and imminent danger of crashing or being forever trapped. The warmth and security of a man’s arms around her, the gentleness. The shock of sheer pleasure when his lips touched hers. She wished…
No she didn’t! She had acted like an idiot! Better never to see him again in life.
They had reached the lobby, and the doors slid open giving her a feeling of overwhelming relief as she walked away from the enclosed cubicle.
Everything happens for the best, she thought. She’d make sure her next office was on the ground floor.
From the bank building, she turned right to traverse the few short blocks to her apartment near the wharf. She liked her apartment. A one bedroom, but the bath was big with a separate dressing area, and the living-room space was large with lush carpeting. She had carefully chosen one on the bottom floor and found it offered more than just no elevator. Easy access to the community exercise room, laundry room and swimming pool. She meant to keep it.
If she could.
It wasn’t cheap. That hadn’t bothered her in the least when she left her so-so job in Sacramento to move to San Francisco to take the job with CTI. The enormous salary was a godsend. Not only could she afford the apartment, but she could help finance her grandparents’ move to the Sprightly Seniors retirement complex.
When she was five years old, her parents had been killed in an automobile crash, and she had moved in with her grandparents. Their love enclosed her, a warm blanket that bolstered the shock…she, from the loss of both parents, and they from the loss of an only daughter. She had basked in that love, attention, things, for they had denied her nothing. Hers had been a privileged world, and she had danced her way through it…the private schools, music and dancing lessons, swimming, skiing, family vacations in Europe. She had never even been burdened with domestic chores, for they always had household help. Her grandmother had never worked outside the house, but remained at home to care for Lisa and enjoy her clubs and social functions. Her grandfather had only been a high school principal, but…
No wonder she had thought they were rich!
She found out they weren’t when Gramps retired, and decided they should buy into the senior citizens complex where many of their friends were already living.
“If we can swing it,” he had said.
For the first time she became aware of their financial status. She discovered that their style of living had strained Grandpa’s salary to the hilt, and their modest home had been heavily mortgaged to finance Lisa’s stint at Stanford. However, proceeds from the sale of the house and their few investments made it possible to buy a two-bedroom apartment in the senior complex.
Lisa, who was just starting the job in San Francisco, was happy to see them so comfortably settled. The monthly maintenance fee included three meals a day, cleaning services and an abundance of recreational and social features, as well as continuing life care.
The thing was, Gramps’s monthly pension check barely covered the cost of all these benefits. Lisa, feeling quite wealthy with her new salary, supplemented with a sizable sum every month. Gramps had protested, but she insisted. She had been glad to supply the extra, happy that she could repay in some small measure all they had given to her.
But now…
Lisa felt the first small prickle of alarm. She had been walking on air. She had splurged on everything—apartment, furnishings, clothes, you name it.
One year ago. And now the job and big money were gone. Swish!
Even if she gave up the apartment, what would she do with all that unpaid for furniture? That was another thing. Bills.
The city was alive now. People pouring out of buildings and filling the sidewalks, bumper-to-bumper traffic. Lisa hardly noticed as she dodged other pedestrians and kept to her usual brisk pace, mentally calculating.
How did the saying go? Like father…like son? No, in this sexist era, it would be mother/daughter. She chuckled. Like her grandparents, she’d been living it up to the hilt. She had given little thought to saving and, with her usual high lifestyle, she barely made it from payday to payday.
She had one paycheck and one month’s severance pay. No more. She’d have to find another job quick.
Again she reminded herself that she wasn’t worried. She had already put in some applications listing her credentials, experience and excellent references from Sam. She was well qualified. The possibilities were endless.
Tomorrow she had an appointment with the Corry Corporation, and she had two interviews scheduled next week. All looked pretty promising, just a matter of choice. She felt very confident as she shed her clothes and headed for the swimming pool.
Three weeks later, she did not feel so confident as she faced Mr. Brown of Safe Securities, the last company on her list.
“Your qualifications are excellent, Ms. Reynolds, and I would like very much to have you aboard, but…” He paused, nervously shuffling papers on his desk. Probably the papers containing proof of her excellent qualifications, she thought with irony. “As I said, at the present time, we are cutting back, not hiring.”
Same story she had heard from others. Why was everybody downsizing at the same time?
“I can’t promise anything, but, in a few months, our position might be different.” He went on, again praising her credentials.
He was trying to let her down easily. She helped him out. “I do understand, Mr. Brown. And thank you for taking the time to explain the situation.” She managed to make a graceful exit, and soon was outside his office, in the corridor.
The empty corridor. Wasn’t anybody going down?
Probably