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“I’m glad we had this conversation,” he said. “It’s always good to know where one stands.”
“I apologize,” I said. “I do want to be a good neighbor. I don’t want trouble. I’m new to the area, so please forgive me if I have said the wrong thing.”
“We shall soon see just how good a neighbor you are. The winds of November, the winds of November.” He said
Before I could utter another word, he spun and marched away, the cat still in hand. I was left with the feeling that I had just irked a mortal enemy. I could have told him that I intended to rake up all my leaves and leave them wherever the association said to leave them. I was pretty sure that if I piled them up at the curb, a leaf-eating truck would suck up the piles and dump them in some compost somewhere. That wasn’t a certainty, but it was reasonable. I hadn’t said that. I hadn’t even asked. I jumped right in and attacked. No, I responded. He was the attacker. If I lost sight of that, I would install a false memory into my brain. I wondered if I could make a friend out of the neighbor on the other side.
Not if that neighbor’s leaves blew into my yard.
If Sylvester presented difficulty at home, Josh Branigan provided frustration at work.
Josh was older than me, not by a lot but by enough. He was the next level down from me and handled most of the higher-end positions. He was responsible for recruiting, interviewing, and recommending people for the bank’s top spots. Since he had some years of experience, I didn’t infringe on his turf. He reported to me on a weekly basis, and I tracked his progress. He seemed to have everything under control. He smiled every time we met. He answered all my questions. He fed me the statistics I needed to impress Doak and the board of directors. I didn’t know Josh was lying to me until Doak called me into his office.
“I don’t offer people seats,” Doak said, “because that signals that we’re going to have a long meet. I don’t like long meetings, so we all stand. That bother you?”
“No, sir,” I answered. “Works for me.”
“Good. Correct me if I misremembered something, that I recall you telling me that we had filled every high-level position except one. Is that correct?”
“That’s what I told you, yes. That number came from the person who handles those jobs.”
“Ten minutes ago, I received a phone call from one of the directors. He said he had been called by a journalist with a national magazine. The journalist wanted to know if our bank was still looking for half a dozen people to flesh out the top ranks.”
“I see.”
“Yes, I’m sure you do. I dodged around for a minute before I told him I’d call him back. I wasn’t going to repeat what you told me until I had verified it. Have I verified it?”
I thought a moment. “No, no, you haven’t because I haven’t verified it. I need to confirm the numbers. I will get back to you pronto.”
“Make sure you do. If you were fed bad info, figure out how to stop that from happening. Understand?”
“Yes, sir.”
Outside the president’s office, I found Dracula waiting. No smile, no recognition, that handsome face and solid chin simply taking me in. I felt that little surge of energy. I knew why the other female employees thought him a vampire. I smiled and nodded and hurried past. He offered nothing.
Josh was not in his office. I asked Marcie to call Josh and get his butt back to my office.
“I know where he is,” Marcie said. “Dawn works two floors down in marketing. She’s a cutie. I mean, a real cutie. Josh likes to visit her during his break.”
“Take me to him.”
“He’ll be back in a few minutes. He never stays long.”
I stared at Marcie. That was enough.
“Follow me,” Marcie said.
The gray cubicle was one of a dozen in a row away from the windows, where the marketing gurus worked their magic. The cubicles had high walls, which provided some privacy, and there were no doors. Anyone could walk in on anyone—which is what I did. I found Josh leaning against a wall, smiling down at a twenty-something woman who was pretty enough to sell anything to anyone with eyes. She smiled at me.
“Can I help you?” she asked.
Josh turned to me, and I saw the color drain from his face. Josh was married. While flirting with the comely women was not forbidden, it didn’t pass muster for me or anyone in HR.
“Boss?” Josh asked.
““Wait for me in my office, please,” I said.
“What about?” he asked
