What Are The Odds

TOM

“Who are you?” the voice called out almost shouting.

It took a moment for me to realize it was actually someone stuck the same as I was.  I guess I shouldn’t have been cussing up a storm.  Kind of rude when you don’t know if your neighbors can hear you or not.

Two elevators next to each other in a building with fifty-two floors, eight elevators, three on a side in this group, two express elevators for the big bosses down the hall… what were the odds?

Raising my voice so they could hopefully hear me, “Name’s Tom! Thirty-second floor. And you?”

After a few seconds, the voice in the darkness came back, “Elizabeth. My name’s Elizabeth. Forty-eighth floor. What were you doing here on a holiday weekend, Tom?”

Not wanting to tell her the truth that I was sleeping in my office and using the exec bathrooms to clean up, “Just trying to get caught up on a little work. And you?”

“Same thing. Sometimes I cannot believe how much paperwork there is.”

“Yeah, me, too. I hate to ask, but my cell phone died and the elevator phone is dead. Have you been able to call out for help?”

“I don’t have my phone. It’s still on my desk. And to be honest, I had not thought of the elevator phone. Kind of silly of me. Give me a moment to find it and I’ll check.”

It wasn’t more than thirty seconds and she called back through the space between the elevators, “Nope. This one is dead, too. Aren’t these things supposed to have emergency power for lights and phones? The only light is from the buttons. They look like they are made of glow-in-the-dark plastic.”

Disgruntled that in this day and age an elevator could actually get stuck with no backup power and no phone power. Someone must have wired things up wrong. Or, if I know the owners of the building, they encouraged shortcuts everywhere they could. “Same here. No lighting or phone, just the damned buttons. Almost makes me think the owners bribed an inspector when this place was built. The phones and elevator power are supposed to be on two completely different circuits. How much do you think that would have cost them?”

I almost got a little panicky when it took so long for the lady in the dark to answer. I was oddly relieved when she did.

“Probably a year’s salary. You know they had to have cut other corners, too. I’m actually in a pretty good position to talk to one of the administrators and make sure this never happens again.”

“Shortcuts, I know. I’ve been working here late a couple times and noticed none of the exit signs or emergency lighting have batteries that work. I even tested one of the stairwell emergency lights one time and the danged thing didn’t even turn on. Made me wonder if they even have batteries.” Wanting to change the subject, “So, Elizabeth, what do you do here?”

“I’m just a pencil pusher up in admin. Glorified secretary most of the time. What do you do when you’re not chilling in a stuck elevator?”

“Ohhh… nothing much I’m afraid. The powers that be have been downsizing the sales staff down on the thirty-second. I was just trying to wrap up a presentation that would hopefully make management realize they needed to keep me around.”

“I see. Do you think it’ll work? I mean, will it work for them to keep you around?”

This time it was my turn to hesitate. “I think so. If we win this contract, we stand to make in excess of a hundred million in advertising over the life of the contract.”

“Sounds good. I hope you get it.”

“Yeah. Me, too.”

Both of us fell silent for a few minutes.

ELIZABETH

Oh, my freaking god! How do I get out of this! The only Tom it could be from the thirty-second floor was the guy in sales they were going to have me lay off on Monday morning. I had to lie… not let him know who I really was.

“Elizabeth. My name’s Elizabeth. Forty-eighth floor. What were you doing here on a holiday weekend, Tom?”

This was going to be tough. How do I mislead him, lie to him, keep him from finding out why I was here? Damned owners making me wrap up everything on this guy today! Cut final pay checks, exit documents, prepare my speech about employee relations and staffing. Damn it! I don’t want to know anything about him! Why can’t he just shut up?

“Hey, Elizabeth?”

“Yeah, Tom.”

“It’s not like I’m flirting or anything, but you would think we could have gotten stuck in the same elevator so we wouldn’t have to strain our voices.”

Aw, shit. Now it begins. “I know what you mean, Tom. Would have been nice. But, you know the Gods… they just do stuff like this to challenge us.”

“Yeah… Gods. I could use a little less challenge these days.”

Here it comes… don’t ask… don’t ask… don’t ask… aww, shit!  “What do you mean, Tom?” 

“Oh, nothing. Just a lot of little things.”

Why am I still talking to him!?  “Like what? It can’t be that bad to work here, can it?” I don’t want to know someone’s life story when I’m getting ready to fire him!

“No, it’s not here. Well, not entirely.”

For the love of God! Why am I still talking to him!? “So, what do you mean, Tom?”

TOM

What the hell. She seems nice. If she’s in senior admin up on the forties, probably the same age as my mom. Maybe she would have some insight into how screwed up my life has been lately.  Maybe I should just keep my mouth shut. She sounds so young.  “Oh, nothing. Just a lot of little things.”

“Like what? It can’t be that bad to work here, can it?”

“No, it’s not here. Well, not entirely.”

“So, what do you mean, Tom?”

If I hit one of the other floor buttons as soon as the elevators start up again, I don’t even need to see who she is. Kind of like talking to a shrink. Anonymity. Everyone can use a little now and then. “It’s my home life. It sucks.”

“Tom, you need to be a bit more specific than that.”

“Well, I’m going broke and I really need this commission. You probably know down in sales we barely make a living wage and the only thing that makes the difference are the commissions.”

“What is it, Tom. Gambling? Drugs? Women?”

Hesitating a little… shaking my head… I might as well spill it. “No, no gambling, drugs, or women. It’s woman, singular. Well, plural if you look at it a little differently.”

“Two women. Are you telling me you’ve been cheating on your wife?”

“No… it’s my wife and her lawyer. She’s suing me for divorce, and her attorney is a freaking barracuda. Even if she doesn’t take me for every penny I’ve got or could make over the next umpteen years, even if I win, I’m still going to be absolutely broke when all this is done.”

“I’m sorry, Tom. Listen, I know it’s none of my business, but why? Honestly now, did you have a mistress? Were you being abusive in some way? Women usually don’t divorce a man unless there is something really wrong with him.”

“No. Though if you ask her, I was cheating. My work was becoming my mistress.”

“So, did you guys talk about this?”

“Yeah. She knew that I was going to be working with some dedicated weekends here. She always said it was okay. It’s just lately she’s been wanting more.”

“I can see that, Tom. A woman does want to see her man.”

“No, you don’t get it. She’s been wanting more of everything… but me. More money. More fancy clothes. A new fancy car. I mean, jeez! She went out and bought one of those new Audi’s without even talking to me about it.”

“That seems a little nasty.”

“Yeah. But you don’t know nasty until you meet her attorney. That man-killer has somehow gotten even the judge to believe I’m the problem, that I have been treating my work like a mistress and that it’s the same thing as actually having a mistress. Irreconcilable differences.”

ELIZABETH

How can I be so stupid? Now I’m getting involved, damn it! I have mom’s heart and dad’s job. I have got to fire him.

“So, tell me, Tom. What happens to the whole divorce case if you lose your job?”

“I don’t know. I thought about that a little yesterday. My attorney seems to think he could nullify a bunch of their arguments if I didn’t have this advertising proposal looking so good. Maybe actually lose my job so I’m broke. You know, in this job market it scares the hell out of me. I really don’t think I would be able to find another job for quite a while.”

Oh, great! At last! The power is coming back on! Quick hit a button! Any button! Get off on any floor so I don’t have to meet him! Get off, wait a few minutes, then go back to business as usual.

Seconds later, random button pushed… elevator moves to the floor… doors open… get out… doors closing… standing in the twenty-first floor cafeteria lobby… wait a few minutes. It’ll all be good.

Elevator doors next to my elevator are opening. Oh, shit. Please tell me this Adonis is not Tom.

“Hi! Sorry to startle you.”

TOM

Wow! About time! Quick! Hit a button! Any button! I need to get out of here. Obviously, she’ll be headed for the ground floor, too. I gotta get out of here without seeing her. If I do, the mood I’m in right now I just might give my wife a real reason to divorce me – with my thoughts if not with my deeds.

Cool! Twenty-first floor. That’ll work. Wait a few minutes so she can leave the building and then I can get the hell out of here.

Oh, my god! Not her!

“Hi! Sorry to startle you. I didn’t expect anyone… I mean… hello, Ms. Cameron.” Oh, my god, she’s gorgeous! If my wife wanted to accuse me of cheating on her, this one would have been worth it just for her incredible eyes alone.

Clearing her throat a little, “Uhhh… Sorry to bother. But… are you Tom?”

Oh, this is even worse. That voice. It’s Elizabeth. Caroline Elizabeth Cameron. Daughter of Mason Cameron… of Cameron, Keller, and Cline Advertising. The expression on her face… what the heck is going on here?

“Tom, we need to talk.”

JUDGE EVAN’S CHAMBERS

“Listen, you two can argue until you’ve depleted everything both of these folks have. Therefore, I’m going to extend a recommendation, if you get my drift. You need to stop here and now. He’s broke. She’s got everything she wants. There is no need to continue trying to negotiate more money from where no more money is available. Odds are the only job he’s going to be able to get for a while in this economy is part time burger flipper.

“In my opinion, you two have used… no, let me rephrase that. You two have wasted every argument you can and it is now time you let the two of them go their own separate directions. Completely free of encumbrances so they may both get back to living.

“You now have fifteen minutes while I finish this cup of coffee. When I come back into the court room, I want to hear that everything is settled.”

TOM’S DUMPY RENTAL APARTMENT

The phone rings.

“Hello?”

“Good afternoon. Is this Tom?”

Oh, great! What does she want now? Decided she needs to gloat for some reason? Slap me down while I’m already down?

“Oh, hi. Elizabeth, right?”

“Yes.”

“So, what do you want? Kicking me out like that with no severance left me completely broke.  I’m still not sure how you found a loophole in my contract that let you do that. Hell, I’m not even sure why I should talk to you. You may as well have shot me in the head instead of firing me.”

“Tom, listen. You don’t…”

“I don’t think I need to listen.”

“No, you don’t. But I would appreciate it if you would give me just a moment… and please listen very carefully.”

“Fine. What do you want?”

“I was talking to Judge Evans a few weeks ago…”

“Evans? Okay. I’m listening.”

“Then you need to listen carefully. I was talking to Uncle Evans a few weeks ago, and asked his advice on an awkward situation. I think he had some very good advice.”

“Well, I guess if you had something to do with him bringing the divorce to closure without any sort of long-term payments to my ex, then I guess I should say ‘thank you’. I won’t. But I should.”

“Perhaps you don’t understand yet. Let me try again. Let me tell you a little story.”

“Sure. Go for it.”

“We had a guy working for the company that was getting burned out a little. So, I put in the paperwork for him to have a little time off. As he was finished with a very lucrative proposal, one I looked over very carefully and presented to the client myself, I knew how dedicated to the company he was. We got that client. I figure it’s at least a two hundred million dollar contract with the anticipated extensions.”

“Uhh… I’m not sure… I… ummm…”

“Here’s the deal. If you are done with your vacation, I would love to meet you somewhere so we can renegotiate your contract with the company. I don’t see a partnership here… at least not with the company I mean. Not yet anyway. But I would love to explore our options to see what kind of partnership we can work out… and… well… explore those… options… a little.”

“Meet. Options.” After a long, deep breath, “Okay. Where would you like to meet?”

“How about the cafeteria on the twenty-first floor. “Lunch tomorrow. My treat.”

“Sounds like a plan. See you there.”

The Beginning?