Memory's Door (A Well Spring Novel) (10 page)

Spencer smiled, strode over to her, and offered his hand. “Great to see you, Dana. It’s been at least a year.”

“I think you’re right.” She shook his hand and offered a thin smile. “It’s good to see you as well.”

Robert and Spencer sat and he motioned to the couch across from them. She sat in the middle, her hands clasped on her lap. “I’d like to make a request in regard to this meeting.”

“All right.” Spencer glanced at Robert, then back to her.

“Can we forgo the pleasantries and the details of why you’re letting me go and get right to work on a severance package we both agree is fair?”

Spencer glanced at Robert again, then leaned forward, picked up two white folders, and handed one to Dana and one to her GM. “Before we do, I’d like to go over a few figures.”

Dana bit her lower lip and stayed silent. This was exactly what
she had hoped to avoid but it was obvious her final wish would not be granted.
Go with it. Play the stupid game. It won’t kill you.

“Let’s start by taking a look at your team’s sales performance over the past four quarters—2 percent down, 3 percent down, 2 1/2 percent down, 1 percent down, and based on current budgets for this quarter you’ll finish at 1 1/2 percent down over the previous year.”

This was a complete waste of time. She didn’t need to look at these figures. They’d been a splinter in her brain every day for the past year. It had irritated her and made her come up with sales and promotional packages that brought in more revenue than if she hadn’t. But it wasn’t as important as what was going on with the Warriors Riding and at Well Spring. A year ago she would have found a way to meet her sales goal. Whatever it took, it didn’t matter. Now it mattered.

Dana nodded. “Yes, down a little less than 3 percent on average.”

“That’s correct.” Spencer turned a page. “Look at the next page.”

Dana turned the page and looked at a chart tracking her station’s rating performance.

“You’re probably intimately aware that we’ve had some programming challenges on your station. Changing program directors twice in one year has not helped. Regardless, budgets still need to be set and met. Not reaching them isn’t an option.”

Another recap of the obvious. Why were they putting her through this?

“This next page is the Miller Kaplan report for the past year—again a report you’ve probably glanced at more than once.”

This time they were wrong. She hadn’t looked at the Miller Kaplan for at least eighteen months. She wasn’t sure why. Probably because Robert never paid it much attention and never used it to evaluate her performance. Did it matter what other stations were doing compared to hers? The goal was the goal was the goal as had just been stated.

“As you can see, you’ve outperformed every station with similar
ratings to yours and your revenue is even ahead of five stations who have up to 15 percent higher ratings.”

He tossed the packet on the coffee table in front of him, sat back, and crossed his legs. “That includes three stations here in our own group.”

“You’re not going to fire me?” Dana blurted out the thought without giving consideration to how stupid it would sound. She glanced at her GM who offered an affirming smile.

“This is true. We had hoped to go in a bit different direction.”

Robert slid a sheet of paper across the glass coffee table and tapped it twice. “Before you look at that sheet let me apologize. Based on your request at the start of this meeting we obviously have done a poor job of conveying our view of your performance and what we think of you. With that in mind, take a moment to peruse this sheet that will give you a better feel of what our thoughts are with regard to your future with this company.”

Dana picked up the paper. It took only ten seconds to read but she stared at the words and figures for over a minute.

• Dana Raine new position: station general manager

• Salary: $285,000

• Vacation days: six weeks paid

• Bonus structure: Immediate $15,000, and $15,000 per percentage point over goal each quarter from the previous year

• Start date: May 20

Was this real? She looked up. “You’re promoting me.” Another obvious comment, but they didn’t seem to take offense.

“Yes.” Spencer smiled. “You’ve done an excellent job. And not only with the numbers. As surprising as this might seem we do care about more than the bottom line. We care how our leaders treat the people they lead. Why? Because people do better in an atmosphere where they feel encouraged, believed in, and fought for. We know
you’ve stood in the gap for your salespeople. We know you fight for them in promotion meetings. We know you’ve gone far above and way beyond to make sure they’re appreciated. When people have a leader like that, most of them will overachieve. Which you can see from the Miller Kaplan, they have done and continue to do.

“I guess in that sense that brings us back to the numbers so maybe that is all we care about.” He laughed. “We talked to your salespeople and eight of the nine said your leadership over the past ten months has been stellar. Better than it’s ever been.”

“I . . . I thought . . . I don’t know what to say.”

“Say yes to a significant advance in your career.”

“I didn’t apply for this. I didn’t even know you were looking for a new GM.”

Robert leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “They tell me I’ve had a good run here, Dana. Good enough that I’m being bumped up.” He smiled and waved his thumb at Spencer. “I’m taking his role, so someone needs to fill mine. They’re going to let me work out of Seattle, so we’ll still get to work together.” He pointed to the sheet in her hands. “So what do you say? Would you do me the honor of succeeding me?”

She glanced at the paper in her hands, then up to her GM. “Yes.”

The rest of the meeting was a blur. She thanked both of them, shook their hands, and stood, her body numb. They told her to be expecting a contract on her desk in the morning and to take her time looking it over and have her attorney look it over as well.

Dana was still in a daze as she pushed open her office door and slumped against her desk. Really? Had she really just been offered the chance to run the station? She’d been noticed. She’d been seen.

And suddenly life was good.

Sure, it was balanced out on the negative side with wanting a special person in her life and having no prospects on the horizon, not to mention her weird quasi relationship with Brandon. But still, on the whole her life felt solid and the future was full of
hope. Warriors Riding continued to propel her deeper with Jesus than she’d ever imagined was possible and they were doing amazing things for the kingdom. The school at Well Spring was going extremely well and now this promotion? If this was the enemy’s attack she wanted more.

THIRTEEN

M
ARCUS PUSHED THROUGH HIS FRONT DOOR AT SIX THIRTY
on Monday evening, the smell of spaghetti filling the small entryway of his home. His gaze fell on the picture of an eight-year-old Layne sitting on the credenza next to the coat closet, reminding Marcus for the millionth time of what he’d done.

No, take every thought captive.
It was over and he couldn’t go back.

You’ve been forgiven.

The words of the Spirit were hollow in his mind, the pain in his soul like thunder. But he’d gut through it just like he always did this time of year.

Kat peered around the corner of the kitchen as he took off his shoes and pushed them toward the basket next to the front door. “Hey.” She winked at him and disappeared back inside the kitchen.

He walked up to the kitchen door and stood in the entry. “I thought I was supposed to cook tonight.”

“You were, but I got home early and figured I’d get things started.”

“Sorry I’m late.”

“You’re not that late.” Kat glanced at the clock on the wall above the breakfast nook. “How was your day stimulating young minds?”

“Not as strange as Friday.” He set his satchel down on the kitchen counter and gave Kat a quick kiss. “I swear I stepped into
two different versions of your shop. It wasn’t a dream. It wasn’t a vision.”

“But you decided to let it go. So do it.”

“You’re right, you’re right, I know you’re right.”

“Then truly release it and enjoy the evening, okay? You haven’t been sleeping. You’ve been stressed over this possible book deal with Tim, and you’re always a little out of sorts on the first day of a new quarter. Isn’t it possible your mind was playing tricks on you?”

“Yes.”

“Could you say that with a little less enthusiasm?”

Marcus laughed and lifted his hands in surrender. “Let me change and I’ll set the table.”

“No need. We’re eating in the dining room tonight.”

“What?”

“We’re having a dinner guest tonight and you’re going to be nice.” Kat glared at him, a paring knife in her right hand pointed directly at him.

A dinner guest? This couldn’t be good. If he hadn’t been consulted on the occasion it meant the guest was one of Abbie’s or Jayla’s friends. And it wouldn’t be Jayla’s. Her friends didn’t come for dinner. Neither did Abbie’s unless they happened to be over and Kat extended an impromptu invitation. Which gave high credence to the hypothesis that this guest was not female.

“There’s a boy coming to dinner tonight? Here?”

“Come on.” Kat put her hands on her hips. “How did you know that?”

“It didn’t take a great deal of analytical prowess to reach that conclusion.”

“Yes, it’s a boy.” Kat turned and stirred the spaghetti sauce.

“From where? How old is he?”

“A friend of Abbie’s from high school. He’s seventeen.”

“I seem to have acquired a considerable amount of wax in my ears in the past two seconds. I thought you just said he was seventeen.”

Kat spun and glared at Marcus again. “Your ears are fine.”

“This
boy
is three years older than Abbie?”

“Yes, he’s a senior this year.”

“She’s not going to date anyone, let alone a young
man
who is three years older than she is.”

“She’s not dating. This isn’t a date. They’re just getting to know each other. As friends.”

“Coming to the parents’ house is more than just getting to know each other. And no seventeen-year-old is simply a friend of a fourteen-year-old girl.”

“Would you rather she hid it from us?”

“How long have you known about this?”

Kat set down the knife, sashayed over to Marcus, and slid her fingers under the collar of his shirt. “How old were you when you went on your first date?”

“If memory serves me accurately, twenty-three.”

“We were married at twenty-three.”

“Then my first date must have been at twenty-two.”

“Do I need to remind you of what your father used to say about your dating habits during your teen years? That you had more girlfriends than fleas on a dirty dog’s back?”

“That wasn’t until I was at least . . . seventeen.”

“Try fourteen. The same age as your daughter. I remember stuff like that, remember?”

“The dating equations that pertain to boys are severely different when applied to girls.”

“Care to explain that?”

“I was that age once. I understand fully what is going through a teenage boy’s mind.”

“And what is that?”

“Have you met this kid who has hormones racing all through his body like a particle accelerator?”

Kat nodded.

“And?”

She took a loaf of sourdough bread off the counter and put it in the oven. “You’ll like him the second you meet him, I promise.”

“I’m sure I will.” Marcus gritted his teeth. “And when will said senior in high school be arriving?”

“He’s in the family room with Abbie. Dinner will be ready in ten minutes. Remember, be nice, if not for his sake, for the sake of your relationship with Abbie.”

Marcus frowned. “It’s not right.”

“What’s not right? Calen is charming, handsome, an athlete, gets decent grades from what Abbie says . . . goes to youth group—he’s the total package.”

“That’s the kind of description that worries me.”

“Why?”

“I don’t like perfect people. They’re usually not.”

“Don’t be worried. I’m sure he has flaws like the rest of us. And maybe this is God’s way of bringing a little light into what has been an unusual past year, to say the least.”

Marcus headed upstairs and tried to wrap his mind around the idea of Abbie dating a seventeen-year-old. It wouldn’t be easy.

“Good to meet you, Mr. Amber.” The kid shook his hand with a firm grip and looked right in Marcus’s eyes when he spoke. His smile was relaxed and he didn’t hang back but wasn’t overly eager.

“You too, Calen. Welcome to our home.”

“Thanks.” Calen hooked his thumbs on the front of his belt, then immediately released one of his hands and pointed at the bookshelves to his left. “I’m trying to read your book.”

“Trying?”

Calen’s face flushed a pinch. “I’m dyslexic and reading has always been a challenge. So it takes longer for me to read books than most people.”

“Calen has a 3.75 GPA,” Abbie said and smiled at Marcus.

Dyslexic? And still got good grades? Great. Could this situation get any more clichéd? Sir Calen was not only a star but circumvented his weaknesses to light the way for others with learning disabilities. When dinner was over, Marcus would be shocked if the kid didn’t propose to clear the table and do all the dishes.