A Touch of Rain

Chapter 1-2

The next morning, with his phone pressed between his ear and shoulder, Tristan shut the car door, stuck the bulging briefcase full of dummy cellphones under his arm, and then threw his jacket over his shoulder, trying not to drop anything.

What a morning he was having, but at least he wasn’t hungover.

“I’m downstairs, in the parking lot,” he said to Clive, on the phone. In long strides, he headed for the elevators. “Tell Jeff I’ll be up in a few minutes.”

On the line, Clive, his sales coordinator and good friend, sighed loudly. “Trist, they let Markus go this morning. I feel like I’m working at the f*****g coroner’s office. You should see people’s faces here.”

Tristan’s hands went clammy. Markus had been playing with fire all year, barely putting in twenty-hours of work a week, though Crystal Tel required a minimum of thirty hours from its salespeople. Markus and Tristan had partied together many times, but now it looked like the party was over. “It’s gonna be okay,” Tristan said, mechanically. He’d been repeating those words to himself all morning. “Don’t worry, buddy.”

“Oh, man, Tristan, I know I’m being selfish, but Erica just started at that private school and you know my oldest son’s trying out for the hockey team. He thinks he’s the next P.K. Subban and—”

“Clive, Clive, listen to me.” Tristan pressed the elevator button for the third time. Where was the goddamn elevator? “They’re not gonna fire me. Okay? And whatever happens, I won’t let them fire you. Look, I’ve been with Crystal Tel for eight years and I’ve been through more of these ‘reconstruction plans’ than anybody else.” Finally, he stepped into the empty elevator. “I’ve survived every last one of them.”

“This isn’t a reconstruction, Trist. And you know it. This is about Markus not doing his job anymore.” But Clive’s voice broke up, the line going dead.

“Clive? Hello?” Inside the elevator, Tristan looked at his phone and briefly shut his eyes. Okay, whatever was waiting for him upstairs, he could deal with it. He had his health. Money wasn’t everything. He’d take whatever Jeff had to say with poise and grace.

But when the elevator doors opened and Tristan caught sight of Clive staring at him over his cubicle partition wall, his courage dissolved and every step he took forward felt like a step deeper into quicksand. “Hey,” he whispered to Clive, stopping by his desk. “You weren’t kidding when you said this place was like the dead zone.”

“Jeff is in there with that woman from human resources.” Clive slowly stood and looked over at Jeff’s office door. “They’re waiting for you.” Clive was a tall man with ebony skin and hands the size of dictionaries, but in this moment, he seemed smaller than usual and a little vulnerable. “Better get in there.”

“It’s gonna be all right.” Tristan looked into Clive’s clever brown eyes and forced a smile. “I got your back, man. You know that.” Clive had covered for him countless times this year. How many Monday mornings had Tristan shown up late at the office, bleary-eyed and pasty-mouthed, asking Clive to hurry up and process last week’s sales because he’d been too drunk on Friday afternoon to send them to him, as planned? Clive had been more than patient with him. “And, uh, here are the weeks’ contracts.” Tristan set his briefcase on Clive’s cluttered desk and slipped the papers out of it. His movements were clumsy and he realized how nervous he was.

Clive shuffled through the contracts. “But where’s the one we worked on all week?”

“No, no, he didn’t sign it. It’s a no-go.” Tristan licked his lips and tucked his shirt into his navy-blue pants. “It all fell apart this morning. Guy wouldn’t tell me why his boss changed his mind. I don’t know. I just don’t know.” He’d lost a huge contract this morning. Tristan ran a quick hand through his hair and fixed his tie. “All right, here I go.” He patted Clive’s arm. “Look, if they do can me, I’ll make sure Jeff shuffles the board around and you get transferred to another sales rep. Maybe Jessica would take—”

“Tristan, no, f**k that.”

“Hey, it’s the least I can do.” Tristan walked away, his head spinning a little. He’d come close to fulfilling his quota this month. They’d have to consider this. And with the way this greedy company had saturated the market last year, how the hell was he supposed to duplicate last year’s numbers? His downtown territory was done. He’d cleaned it out. No, what he needed now was to have the east-end, but they wouldn’t give it to him. He’d been too reckless lately. He’d be lucky to walk out of Jeff’s office with his job.

With his heart in his mouth, Tristan knocked on Jeff’s door and then squared his shoulders.

He promised himself he wouldn’t go all Jerry Macguire on the staff this afternoon.