Chapter Three: How To Ruin A Perfectly Good Salesforce -- version 2.0

Chapter Three: And Another Thing -- version 2.0

[A few readers emailed me after I posted the first version of this chapter saying, "don't post half a chapter -- I hate that -- finish it and THEN post it." I understand their thinking, but maybe I want to use this as a place to experiment. Added a new front to this chapter. Everything after the ----- line is same as before.]

After the announcement that I was the new boss, we all sat there a bit stunned, especially the two men who were now reporting to me and then my cell phone rang and I saw a familiar number. It was only 11:30 in the morning, but I knew what the phone call was about.

"I need to take this -- and I'm in San Diego this afternoon -- I'll see you all Monday morning," I said, in a rather queenly way, getting up to leave and then I was in the elevator in minutes. Someone had taught me that there's no time like the present to start acting like the boss.

I flipped my phone open in time to catch his call.

"I'm heading home," I told him.

"Sounds perfect," he said, that nice slightly Southern accent. My gentleman caller.

I wanted to be out of the building fast, in my car, music on, leaving the beach and Santa Monica behind, traveling east to the Fox studios lot, hang a louie, left onto Motor.

Motor Avenue was a pretty old palm-tree-lined wiggly street that ran between the Fox lot and Sony Pictures -- a crooked arrow shot straight from Century City to Culver City -- lots of fun to drive in a sporty red convertible Mercedes like mine.

I was actually mad at this new French boss -- miffed, annoyed, vexed -- about getting promoted. It was hard to explain. It was just so -- well, in some ways -- just so smart of Francois to do it. Which is what made me angry. I was having a big wave of "Who the hell is this guy anyway?" He was proving to be more than I bargained for.

And another thing.

He noticed my purse. I had taken the new Louis Vuitton barrel bag in the spring colors with me that day on sales calls and it was on the banquette next to me in the restaurant when he tried to seduce me. He's French. I suppose that's how he knew. Most people don't know and the ones who ask about it, I lie to them and tell them it's "not a real Louis Vuitton, those cost a fortune" and I tell them it's a knock-off and they usually go for the idea.

But he knew.

It wasn't a knock-off. It was the top of the line. Not a $50 vinyl look-alike bought with cash from some Nigerian with a folding table in the shadow of a building in Century City with the legal secys flocking around. It was the real thing -- a nice $3500 bag they were happy to put on "his account" and wrap right up for me.

So that meant he knew I had a few secrets. Things I didn't share with the people at work.

And he probably saw my shoes. It was like a European to know good shoes. And I had very good shoes. I dressed down all the other parts -- plain jackets, simple jeans, nice skirts, hell, half my wardrobe was Issac Mizrahi's great new line for Target. But my bags and my shoes were the creme de la creme.

I put the French guy out of my mind when I turned the corner into my driveway and pushed the remote to open the garage.

I made it to my house before him -- which was always best. I was out of my clothes, shoes, bag on the credenza, music switched on-- Nat King Cole that he liked so much -- as I took my last stitch of clothing off. I was lying in bed naked waiting for him. I really needed to talk to him. I was glad he had called. He liked to spend the whole afternoon doing it. Me too.

By 6:00pm, he had to leave and I wasn't good at letting him go this time. I was clingy -- not my thing -- he laughed at me. Kissed me again, for the 400th or so time. We'd torn the sheets up. He had a lot on his mind, me too. It was rough house sex but also sweet and tight and wonderful. I let him go -- his lovely wife who still hadn't learned enough Latin to know what fellatio meant -- had Friday night dinner plans for him. He turned as he got out of bed, took a look at me, we grinned like very bad kids at one another, sharing the same idea for a moment, and then he let me make him a little late for supper.

I drove down to San Diego late that evening. There was no use even trying to get out of LA on a Friday night heading south until before say 10:30. I was visiting my sister, her husband and their four nutty boys. My insane nephews.

--------------------

So I was the boss. Boss. Hmmmph. What was Francois thinking? It was the Monday morning I was really going to start running things and my stomach did not feel so good about it. I got my standard latte at the Starbucks on the corner, at a much earlier time than usual, the streets were really empty at 6:20am.

I even looked different -- serious suit on today. I knew the two guys I had to manage would be half out of their minds and male egos this morning. First day with our old mommy manager gone, first day with me in charge. I couldn't forget the look on their faces when they heard Francois announce that I was the new Regional Sales Manager. They could have been looking at The Bride of Frankenstein, the way they looked over at me, their eyes widening in terror. Thanks guys, that much needed vote of confidence.

I was in early to interview a new saleswoman. Someone Francois knew through an old colleague. That made it tough to say no to her if she were the least bit good. Also, we needed another person on the team fast. I was inclined to hire a woman, not a man, to replace me. It seemed right. Only tricky detail was she and I were both named Sally -- that might be a little strange. What was I going to call her Sally2 or the "other Sally" or the UnSally?

I flipped on my computer at 6:45am.

My instant messaging started to flash right off. It was the big boss back East.

It said, "Alors, ca va?"

I typed back, "Why do you think I speak French?"

"Parce ce que vous etes tres intelligente et les femmes intelligentes parlent Francais," or "Because you're intelligent and intelligent women speak French."

Actually I did speak French but I didn't want to let him know that, "Whatever ... " I typed. "Sally's coming in soon, gotta go."

He was back, "You'll love her, she's great. Just wanted to say BON CHANCE on your new job and I've got numbers to review with you at 10:30. The competition is kicking your ass out there. You need to fix that for me."

"Gotcha," I im'ed back.

There was a glass conference room which was part of the suite we rented, shared by all the tenants. It was more like a big gold fish bowl, the way it was set up right by the elevators and everyone could see inside as soon as they got off on the 18th floor. It was probably the most interesting part of the office. You could see into the room to check out who was meeting and beyond it, it looked out on the Pacific Ocean which was a pretty spectacular view on about 360 days out of 365.

I hadn't grown up in LA, but I'd lived there long enough to know you could see some pretty amazing people in this town on a regular basis. So I wasn't thrown off too much when I saw a very beautiful person, but I just wasn't prepared for this Sally when she took her nice long-legged stride out of the elevator and made her way to the receptionist desk. I was waiting there because the offices really weren't even open yet. She was very, very gorgeous. Cameron Diaz cute and Jessica Simpson pretty and Reese Witherspoon sweet.

"Ut oh, actress," I thought to myself. The younger actresses were smart enough to do jobs other than waitressing these days, but that might make it tough if she wanted time off for auditions and all that.

The resume looked good. She was warm and funny and didn't miss a beat with even my tough questions. I liked her a lot. Around about 7:30, Bill Sanders came in and I gave him a quick wave, not intending to invite him into the conference room, but he came right on in, obviously wanting to meet the new Sally. he was pouring on his understated charm and when she turned back to me, he made a very small THUMBS UP gesture for me only.

By 7:45, Bryce had arrived. I saw his grumpy face change radically when the elevator doors opened. It was as if he wanted to show me how annoyed he was with me becoming boss, but the woman sitting on the other side of the conference table turned the frown around fast. I ignored him, knowing he'd come bounding in like a big eager puppy anyway, no way to stop him.

He was laying on the charm thick as I introduced him. I managed to throw him out fairly quickly, but within about five minutes, both of us noticed that the men suddenly had all these errands which required them going past the conference room and taking a peek in.

"They seem to be a little interested in our conversation," Sally said to me. They were to my back, but she could see them from her position in the room.

We both grinned.

"Do you need to go ... I know you're working now, I think we're done. I would like you to come back though and meet with Bill and Bryce."

"No problem. What about at the end of the day?" she offered.

"I'll have to check with them," I said.

She nodded towards the window. "They're both right there."

"Give them a wave, they'll melt for you. You must be used to this stuff."

"Men are kind of obvious that way, aren't they?" she said to me.

They came into the conference room and were more than willing to interview Sally at 4:00 and 4:30.

[Notes -- added the beginning and back story to the narrator Sally's history. Need to get the end part going. More tomorrow. ]