Downsized: Corporate to Criminal

By Elaine Wilson

Global Telecommunications Corporation (GTC) made many unsuccessful investments as they attempted to expand their customer service department into South Asia, specifically India. When GTC announced a major downsizing, employees' behavioral psychology is transformed from corporate to criminal.

Christopher Harris, the Southern California branch manager, was instructed to downsize his workforce by 20 percent within six months. Personal secrets are divulged as each coworker tries desperately to secure their job.

1. What would you do to keep your job?
2. What would you do if you had to pass a written test to keep the job you've had for over 20 years?
3. What would you do if you had to participate in a mandatory group interview to keep your job?
4. What would you do if you had to become an actor and perform a role play to keep your job?

The employees of GTC decided to do the unthinkable.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Mar 24, 2016
• ISBN: 9781514476697

Elaine Wilson

Elaine Wilson is the author of A Book of Songs for the Real Housewives of Atlanta, New York, DC, and Beverly Hills (published, 2011). Her new book, Downsized: Corporate to Criminal, is a work of fiction, a page-turning experience. After working in the telecommunication industry for nearly forty years, she witnessed the behavioral psychology of many coworkers by observing the way people behave when threatened each year with the possibility of being downsized. Elaine lives in Alta Loma, California, with Luther, her retired husband, and most of her time is spent being entertained by her ten grandchildren and the sounds of the Las Vegas casinos.

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Copyright © 2016 by Elaine Wilson.

Library of Congress Control Number:   2016904516

ISBN:   Hardcover   978-1-5144-7671-0

   Softcover   978-1-5144-7670-3

   eBook   978-1-5144-7669-7

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted

in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events,

or locales is entirely coincidental.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Rev. date: 03/21/2016

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CONTENTS

Author's Notes

Acknowledgments

Chapter 1 Downsizing Announcement

Chapter 2 Old Friend

Chapter 3 Leadership Team Meeting

Chapter 4 Branch Meeting

Chapter 5 Forced Feedback

Chapter 6 The Proposal

Chapter 7 The Accident

Chapter 8 Life's Uncertainty

Chapter 9 Crown Jewel Sale

Chapter 10 Downsizing Update

Chapter 11 End of the Affair

Chapter 12 You're Fired

Chapter 13 Who's Screwing Who?

Chapter 14 Murder-Suicide

Chapter 15 Office Gossip

Chapter 16 The Assessment

Chapter 17 The Bereavement

Chapter 18 Code-of-Conduct Violation

Chapter 19 Reassessment

Chapter 20 The Confrontation

Chapter 21 What Is Normalcy?

Chapter 22 The Project Team

Chapter 23 The Group Interview

Chapter 24 The Uninvited Visitor

Chapter 25 Family Picnic

Chapter 26 Two Worlds Collide

Chapter 27 Double Life

Chapter 28 Gotcha

Chapter 29 Regina in a Corner

Chapter 30 The Georgia Peach

Chapter 31 Who's on YouTube?

Chapter 32 The Next Episode

Chapter 33 Are You Okay?

Chapter 34 Change Is Inevitable

Chapter 35 Who's In Charge?

Chapter 36 Assessment Results

Chapter 37 He's Back

Chapter 38 Year-End Celebration Planning

Chapter 39 Southern Belle Style

Author's Notes

This is a work of fiction. All characters are a product of my sense of humor, as well as my imaginary dark side. Similarities between the characters portrayed in this book to any individual, living or deceased, are purely coincidental.

Acknowledgments

During this journey, I had to take on the responsibility of becoming the caregiver for my mother. My emotions ran high and low during this time, but I knew God would never put too much on me that I couldn't handle. It was during this time that I realized which family members I could depend on for support. It was also during this time that I discovered which family members were the takers.

I would like to commend my husband for accepting my mother into our home, assisting with her care, and giving up his man cave.

I would like to thank my niece Shamika Shirley, whom I've adored since she was born, for being there to care for her grandmother. No one gave us a book on how to deal with an Alzheimer's patient, so we learned something new each day. The love and patience she demonstrated as she cared for her grandmother never wavered.

I would like to thank my niece Renita Gant for taking a Greyhound bus from Sacramento to Los Angeles to assist with the care of her grandmother. Although Renita had a minor stoke and wasn't 100 percent, from a health perspective, she took her grandmother for a walk every day.

I would like to thank my sons, Elon and Luther Jr., and their significant others, Meka and Amanda, for babysitting, which allowed me opportunities to escape and obtain some moments of sanity and normalcy.

I would like to thank the mother of my grandchildren, Mayra, for moving from Las Vegas to assist with caring for my mother. She patiently took the time to understand the daily routine required to bathe, dress, feed, and carefully monitor my mother's activities.

Chapter 1

Downsizing Announcement

Today was the day. The day Christopher had agonized for nearly three months to host all the western region branch managers at the Los Angeles office. The senior sales vice president and the Western region branch managers would be at his office shortly to discuss the recently announced downsizing. Christopher paced back and forth in his office. The sweat slowly dripped from his underarms. Stress sweat was always the worst for him, especially because he prided himself on being cool and in charge. Whenever there was an important meeting or event, he would meticulously plan his outfit the night before.

The primary reason he purchased his home was because there were six bedrooms, which allowed him his first opportunity to have his own closet. The bedroom adjacent to the master suite was converted to a closet, and a large investment was spent on installing a thumb print, biometric security system. No one was allowed in his closet. While most men had a man cave, all he ever wanted was his own closet. On one wall, which was lined with cedar wood cabinets, were shirts; ties and sweaters were placed neatly in each drawer. His work suits were color coordinated and hung from the custom racks on the opposite side of the room. His work suits were cool, dark colors and arranged from black, eggplant, navy, forest green to dark gray. The rack above closer to the ceiling had suits of different colors---red, purple, royal blue, and mustard. Custom shirts hung on wooden hangers and were neatly spaced with the sleeves perfectly spaced. The ceiling was soft white; the walls were covered in large black-and-white houndstooth wallpaper, and a chenille deep-red chaise lounge sat in the middle of the room, facing a large free-standing, full-length mirror.

Christopher hadn't seen his peers in years and wanted to impress them with his attire. It took him nearly two hours to get dressed that morning. He was ready for the meeting from an attire perspective, but nervous as hell. He knew that stress sweat would be an issue, so he placed a back-up shirt inside a black Giorgio Armani garment storage bag and hung it on his nickel-plated brass clothing stand, which stood in the middle of his closet. He stared at the garment bag that now hung on the coat rack in his office.

Global Telecommunications Corporation (GTC) had made many unsuccessful investments as they attempted to expand their customer service department into South Asia, specifically India. GTC's clients in the United States refused to be placed on hold, and once their call was answered, they refused to deal with the language barrier. The clients forced GTC to allow them an opportunity to speak to someone in the United States by threatening to disconnect all existing services. GTC had to fulfill the contract obligation with their India partner and also reopen their call center in Austin, Texas. Millions had been spent on the expansion, so the board of directors gave the CEO an ultimatum: downsize in the United States to offset the funds needed to pay for the call center in India that was infrequently used.

There was a soft knock on the door. Christopher knew exactly who it was because he and Sonja, his secretary, had a secret knock. Mr. Harris, you have ten minutes before the meeting starts. Sonja stood in the doorway and smiled. She knew Christopher had been stressed for the past week in anticipation of the Western region branch managers meeting. A decision was made without his input to hold the meeting in Los Angeles versus Phoenix, Arizona. Thank you, Sonja. Is the conference room ready?

Yes, it is. The refreshments will be delivered shortly.

Great. Thanks again for your help.

Sonja walked back to her desk, and Christopher walked over to the large floor-to-ceiling window and gazed at the clear view of the mountains and reflected on his life. Being raised by a single mother who believed in her children being exposed to the world taught Christopher how to be the center of attention, and regardless of the environment, he could adapt. In his mother's home there were no constraints or excuses when it came to education; and every summer was an adventure as they traveled to Europe, Africa, Asia, and South America. Although his biological father was over six feet tall, Christopher was short like his mother, a little over five feet. He resembled his father with a light brown sugar complexion, hazel eyes, and jet-black curly hair. After being the butt of jokes in middle school, he quickly learned to compensate for his small size and short height by studying hard, which resulted in the prestigious honor of being named valedictorian in high school. After he graduated from Princeton University, he continued to compensate by having more money than his friends, living in a larger home, in a better neighborhood, and driving a more expensive car. All these material things became his equalizer. No one would laugh at him again.

The meeting with his manager and peers made him feel like a child again. Would they secretively laugh behind his back? Would they tell jokes about his height? Would his manager decide that he be selected as the branch manager to be terminated? Would they look at him differently because he was the only African American manager in the room? As the only African American branch manager in the Western region, he understood the unspoken truth of having to be superior, while his white counterparts could be mediocre and make more money. He knew it was imperative to make his revenue objective every month and stay under the radar. He didn't understand why all of his childhood insecurities danced around in his head. He blinked several times to force himself out of his state of mind.

A clear day in Los Angeles was rare, but the blue sky afforded him a view of the mountains, the Los Angeles skyline, and the tall buildings in Century City. In a far, far away distance, he knew the ocean was smiling back at him. It was time, time to enter the conference room, just as he had done during college finals---with all eyes on him. He took a deep breath and headed for the conference room to welcome the unwanted guests.

The agenda for the meeting was distributed to all the branch managers the day before. The all-day meeting was scheduled to discuss GTC's strategy for saving five billion dollars over the next three years. In the past, that meant layoffs, and Christopher didn't see any alternative.

Christopher entered the conference room and greeted his manager, who was seated at the far end of the large table. Michael Collins, the senior sales vice president, had been with the company for over thirty years. Mr. Collins was six feet tall with a stomach the size of an oversized watermelon; the only hair he had remaining was an inch above his ears that circled the full scope of his head. Mr. Collins weighed nearly three hundred pounds, and you could each breath he took. The cheap gabardine suit and a K-Mart shirt met Christopher's expectation. The forced topic of discussion was why Mr. Collins refused to spend money on clothing. All the branch managers had to sit and pretend to be interested in Mr. Collins's investments and how he had saved hundreds of thousands of dollars over the years. Being a native Arizonan resulted in Mr. Collins's face being the poster child for wrinkled, leather, lobster skin from being in the sun. As part of the good ole white boys' club and never having to worry about being unemployed, Mr. Collins felt very secure at GTC. To have an African American in Christopher's position was unheard of when he started with the company, and something had to change.

Mr. Collins continued to talk about his investments and looked over his glasses as Christopher entered the room. He noticed that Christopher had on one of his standard dark-green, single-breasted Armani suits with Gucci shoes and tie. As Christopher leaned across the table to shake his hand, he noticed the eighteen-carat gold cuff links. He never understood why Christopher wasted so much money on clothing nor did he understand why Christopher would spend so much money on a car that sat only two people.

Mr. Collins reflected on the last time Christopher drove him to LAX. He was surprised to see that Christopher still drove the deep, dark purple 1997 Porsche 911 Carrera 4s Turbo. He smiled to himself as he remembered having to force his luggage into the trunk of the small car. Maybe he was paying him too much money. The car was old, but it looked like it was delivered from the dealer the day before. Mr. Collins had many conversations about minorities, especially a black man making enough money at GTC to afford him that level of luxury. He made a mental note to himself to check Christopher's salary.

Mr. Collins greeted Christopher with a smile but thought to himself that over the past ten years, things had changed at GTC, and he was ready for retirement. He no longer wanted to work for a company that allowed any minority the possibility of reaching his senior level. Although it was 2015, the company had no minorities at his level, and he hoped that rule remained in effect until he retired.

Christopher sat in the first chair to the right of Mr. Collins and tried desperately to start a general conversation not related to work. He knew that Mr. Collins despised him, but he felt that he was more qualified for the job than Mr. Collins. After all, he had his master's degree from Princeton, and Mr. Collins only completed high school. Fortunately, the last two branch managers entered the room, and he no longer had to listen to Mr. Collins's investment stories. There was a branch manager representing each state in the Western region. They were all white, middle-aged men, and this always made Christopher feel uneasy and self-conscious. Although he was superior to every man in the room from an educational perspective, he became that boy in school with self-inflicted insecurities.

Mr. Collins started the meeting by sharing the revenue growth projections for the year. Christopher was the only branch manager with over 100 percent quota attainment for the past consecutive seven years, and he felt elated. When Mr. Collins asked how each branch planned to meet their revenue objective, he refused to give Christopher any eye contact. Christopher assumed that the question was not directed at him. He had won that round.

Next, Mr. Collins explained that the company was not meeting their revenue objectives, and with the requirement to satisfy customers and shareholders, downsizing was inevitable. Therefore, the plan was to eliminate 20 percent of the workforce within the next six months. He explained that the company had hired an outside consultant firm to develop the process for assessing and testing the sales and support personnel. He expected all of the branch managers to review the rules and guidelines and have the process completed within the next six months.

Regina Rossi, human resources director, sat in the back of the room and changed the PowerPoint slides as Mr. Collins spoke. The current slide depicted the existing makeup of the Western-region branches from a racial and gender perspective. Mr. Collins noted that today, 85 percent of the sales force consisted of white males, and the company planned to keep it that way. Therefore, he needed the branch managers to be creative in their decision-making process, and he also let them know that it would be their decision, not his.

Christopher could feel his stomach tighten as the words echoed through the conference room. He held his pen tightly and took a sip of coffee as he looked up at the clock on the wall. It was eleven fifteen, only fifteen more minutes before he could run to his office and scream. Sonja knocked softly on the conference room door as she entered to inform them that lunch had arrived. He took the interruption as an opportunity to leave his seat. The warm drips of perspiration fell from underneath his armpits, and he had to change his shirt. He instructed the deliveryman to place the food on the back table. Mr. Collins decided that it would be a good time to take a break. Christopher headed straight to his office. He quickly checked his voice mail messages and removed the clean shirt from the Giorgio Armani garment bag. With all the new technology, he felt that someone had to create a deodorant that would handle his stress sweat. He changed quickly and returned to the conference room.

As Christopher approached the conference room door, he recognized Mr. Collins's voice, along with some of his peers'. They were engaged in conversation, but Christopher could barely hear what they were saying. He heard Mr. Collins say, As long as the company continues to hire coons, wetbacks, desert monkeys, and slant-eyes, the company would never recover. I wish that it was like the old days, when the company hired . . . Before Mr. Collins could finish, he turned to look over his shoulder and noticed Christopher had entered the room, so he quickly changed the subject. All the branch managers started to laugh, and Christopher felt like the joke was on him again. Christopher ate a small portion of his lunch and headed back to his office.

The meeting reconvened thirty minutes later. Mr. Collins covered GTC's strategy for the next five years and explained the importance of meeting their revenue objectives on a monthly basis. He scheduled the next meeting that would be held at their Phoenix, Arizona, office in January to kick off the new year. Christopher was glad that the meeting was finally over. He escorted the visiting branch managers to the elevator and waved good-bye. He headed back to the conference room to ensure that Mr. Collins was ready to leave for the airport. Mr. Collins had his briefcase in hand and was talking to Regina when Christopher returned to the conference room.

What time is your flight? Christopher asked.

The last time I checked, it was still at 4:40 p.m., Mr. Collins replied.

Well, I think we should get on the road because you never know about the traffic in LA. Christopher didn't wait for a response. He headed to his office to gather his things as he mentally tried to prepare himself for small talk in the car with Mr. Collins.

Good night, Sonja. I'll see you in the morning. Christopher headed out the door without looking back to see if Mr. Collins was following him. Sonja smiled and said good-bye to both of them.

Christopher pushed the elevator button, turned, and smiled at Mr. Collins. Well . . . He took a deep breath. What a day. How are you feeling? Christopher forced himself to make conversation.

It's been a long month for me, and this is my last stop. I've met with all the branch managers across the country delivering this message. I'm relieved.

The elevator doors opened, and fortunately, there were other people in the elevator, so Christopher didn't feel the need to force a conversation with Mr. Collins. The ride to LAX could take from thirty minutes to an hour depending on the time of day, the day of the week, or an event at Staples Center. He had taken the time to create a playlist of songs that Mr. Collins liked in an effort to eliminate the need to create small talk during their ride to LAX. They reached the parking level, and he walked a little faster to open the trunk of his car.

Well, I see you are still driving this tiny little car. Do you have enough room for my bags? Mr. Collins snarled.

Not a problem, Christopher replied and placed the bags in the small trunk. He clearly understood that Mr. Collins's executive assistant could have rented a car. Mr. Collins was escorted to the office by one of the branch managers who planned to stay for the weekend, which meant the host branch manager was responsible for getting him back to the airport. He knew Mr. Collins enjoyed watching him play the chauffeur role whenever he was in town. He longed for the day when Mr. Collins could play the Driving Miss Daisy role. He smiled to himself as he visualized the role reversal. He had already moved the seat as far back as it would go and lifted the headrest. He didn't want Mr. Collins to complain about his car during this trip. He also wanted Mr. Collins to know that he wasn't going to rent a car just to take him to the airport. After both men were secured in the car, Christopher left the building parking lot slowly and headed toward the freeway. He could feel the animosity coming from Mr. Collins, so he pressed the preprogrammed playlist button on his iPod, and Bob Seger's Roll Me Away quietly echoed from the speakers. He watched Mr. Collins from his peripheral view and noticed him tapping his leg with his hand. Mr. Collins was looking out of the window and began to sing: Twelve hours out of Mackinaw City stopped in a bar to have a brew. Christopher smiled to himself and kept his eyes on the road. He felt that music was the equalizer for any race relations, and he witnessed it in action.

Wow, I didn't know you had such great taste in music. The last time I was in your car, you played that Motown shit. Man, I'm here to tell you---not everybody likes Motown. Mr. Collins let out a quiet giggle and continued. I never told you this, but I ride my Harley every weekend.

That's great. I never had enough balls to ride a hog. Christopher looked at Mr. Collins, and they both began to sing Bruce Springsteen's Dancing in the Dark. You can't start a fire / you can't start a fire without a spark / this gun's for hire, even if we're just dancing in the dark. They looked at each other and laughed. Christopher had won another round. The music removed all tension in the car. Sonja's calling Mr. Collins's executive assistant for a list of songs had paid off. Christopher pulled up to the loading and unloading area at the airport and parked the car. He let the music continue to play as he removed Mr. Collins's bags from the trunk of the car. This time, Mr. Collins reached out his hand first to say good-bye. I'll see you in January, and I'm sure you'll have your branch in order. Thanks for the ride. I enjoyed the music.

Anytime, and I'll see you soon. Christopher waved good-bye, and Mr. Collins carried his bags to the check-in area at the curb. Christopher got back into his car and headed home to take a nice, hot shower.

Chapter 2

Old Friend

The next day, Christopher asked Sonja to schedule a meeting with his direct reports. While seated at his desk and staring out of the window, he reflected on Mr. Collins's direct order to reduce the company's head count by 20 percent. The thought of making decisions about his subordinates' livelihoods gave him a sense of power, as well as a sense of despair. The downsizing selection had to be fair, and he had already developed the preliminary criteria if there was a need to displace any of his direct reports. He had to ensure that the process was fair, not based on race, creed, or gender, as his superior requested. He would show them that termination would be based on merit, not because your skin was dark; you were nonessential; and if your skin was white; you were very much indispensable. Although there were a couple of blacks and Hispanics that he wished he could get rid of, he would try desperately to remain fair-minded.

Christopher picked up the phone and dialed his old buddy from college who was a corporate lawyer. He decided to consult with him for guidance. He walked toward the window as he searched for Randal's number on his iPhone. After two rings, someone answered. Weinberg, Lardner & Rosenthal, may I help you?

Yes. Is Mr. Clark available? he asked.

May I ask who's calling, please?

Yes, this is Christopher Harris.

One moment please, the receptionist said and placed him on hold. Christopher sat and listened to soft jazz music that was soothing. He tapped his pencil lightly on the window. Moments later, a voice said, Hey, Chris! Long time no hear. What's going on, man? Randal was glad to hear from Christopher. They hadn't spoken in months. They were both too busy with their jobs.

Not much right now, but I have this feeling that things are going to heat up soon. Christopher paused. How is everything with you?

Oh, man, you know, I'm working sixty to seventy hours a week. I always wanted to be a partner, but this is ludicrous. I'm sorry---he paused---I'm sure you called for a reason, and I proceeded to rattle off about my situation. What's up, man? Randal asked again.

I'm calling for some guidance from you with regards to a reorganizational change that I will be adhering to shortly. I was hoping to receive some sound advice from you before I commence this very difficult task. Before he could finish, Randal interrupted.

Excuse me. I don't mean to interrupt you, but you said reorganization. In reality, this sounds like layoffs to me. Randal laughed.

Well, not necessarily. We plan to consolidate job functions, thereby eliminating the need to have multiple people doing primarily the same work. We are planning to develop a process that is fair by providing a level playing field for all employees . . . Christopher paused because he could hear Randal laughing while covering the receiver. Man, I'm serious. What's so funny? Christopher asked.

Chris, please. This is Randy you're talking to. You don't have to sell me on the concept. I've been involved with IBM, Avaya, and AT&T to name a few. With this new terminology or buzzword for terminating people, corporations feel that by calling it 'downsizing' a more positive view will be displayed. But, bottom line, these corporations are laying people off, and job security no longer exists. This downsizing is the very reason I decided to become a lawyer. And the way these corporations are terminating people for outrageous reasons, I'll always have a job, Randal said.

That's why I'm calling you. Although I have GTC corporate lawyers to ensure that all displacements will not have any legal ramifications, I wanted a second opinion. I have employees with over twenty-five years with this company, and I know some of them will be displaced. I would like to eliminate the possibility of lawsuits based on age or race discrimination. Christopher stopped and waited for Randal to respond.

Well, the only suggestion that I can recommend is that you and your managers be as honest as possible during this process. Have meetings weekly to allow your employees to voice their opinions and ask questions. Open communication is the only way to get through this. If you stay behind closed doors, the employees will think you are trying to hide something and form their own opinions. Unfortunately, this creates rumors. Therefore, you must address all rumors head-on. I'm not saying tell them everything, but tell them as much as you can share without giving them any proprietary information. You'll have to explain the process in detail so that there are no surprises. People tend to respond favorably to feeling a sense of control over decisions like this as it relates to their job. More importantly, tell them the percentage of people that may be affected. If ten percent will be affected, tell them twelve to fifteen percent. This will allow you an opportunity to say that only ten percent was displaced after this ordeal is over. And you can position it as if you were responsible for two to five percent of the employees remaining.

Yeah, but you said earlier to be honest. Christopher was confused.

Yes, I said be honest, but you will have to continue to manage those remaining employees, and you want them to feel that you saved their job. This will build trust and respect for you in the long run. Do you understand what I'm saying? Randal asked.

Yeah, I understand. My other concern is age. I have several employees that should have been terminated years ago, but based on their tenure with the company, they have remained. They are not meeting their quota attainment or working as hard as the younger employees. If I had my way, I would eliminate them first. However, if I terminate all of the seasoned employees, it would look like our goal was to terminate the employees that were close to retirement. Christopher paused and waited for a response.

Well, that's why communication is so important. After you explain the criterion, it's up to each individual to decide their future. You may see some of those seasoned employees working longer hours and attempting to make their quota. When everyone understands the rules and ramifications, hopefully, there will be no need for a lawsuit.

I have one more question.

Sure. Randal was happy to help his old classmate.

Will taping interviews and conversations be permissible? I would like to have as much documentation as possible.

Yes, you can tape interviews and conversations if you disclose this with the individual, but I wouldn't recommend it for a couple of reasons. For one, you put the employee on the defensive. And two, if your manager makes a mistake or provides incorrect information, this can benefit the plaintiff later.

I understand. Thanks for your help, man. By the way, when are we going to get together for dinner?

Chris, the truth of the matter is, we have been trying to meet for dinner for six months, but this time, let's do it! I'm curious as to the outcome of this reorganizational change, as you called it. Why don't we meet after this process is completed? Randal was ready to change the subject.

That sounds good to me. Christopher laughed.

What's funny? Randal was confused.

Well, I have six months to complete this process. I'm laughing because we have scheduled several dates to meet in Tahoe over the years, and not once have we been successful. Let's make it happen this time. Do you have your calendar for next year?

Yeah, you know I look at three years at a time. Randal reverted back to a friend, not a lawyer.

How about the end of February? Maybe we can finally have a boys' weekend in Tahoe. I still have my condo.

That sounds great. But remember, I don't like the cold weather, so make sure there's heat. Randal laughed.

Yeah, man, there will be heat. It's more like home away from home. Thanks again for your advice. I really appreciate it. So I'll talk to you in January. Later.

Later, man. Randal hung up the phone, shook his head from side to side, and smiled.

Christopher gathered all the paperwork related to the downsizing assessment process, placed them into his briefcase, and headed toward the door. He informed Sonja that he would be working from home the remainder of the day and headed straight to the elevator. He needed time to prepare for his managers' meeting.

As he sat in traffic on the freeway, he smiled to himself because he was proud to work for GTC. His aspiration was to become the senior vice president at GTC, but realistically, he knew that Mr. Collins would have to die before he left the company. Most of his college buddies were lawyers, chief financial officers, or owned their own consulting firms. He would tell them his position at GTC was regional vice president, not branch manager because of the connotation that came with that title. But he always had an equalizer. When one of his buddies came to town, he would meet them at his office and give them a tour. His office was very plush for a branch manager. He had worked hard to get to where he was and hoped that the downsizing did not include his level of management. In the past, he had always been saved. Although he moved around the country to keep his job, Los Angeles was his final stop before retirement, he hoped.

GTC was located in downtown Los Angeles. The office was in one of the copper towers and was located on the thirty-second floor. The copper towers were equivalent to the twin towers of New York. The two buildings were identical, and in the middle were multiple stores and small eateries for the tenants in the buildings, as well as the general public. The Court was the signage for the venue, which was sponsored by Wells Fargo Bank. The entire thirty-second floor was occupied by GTC. Christopher's office was located on the southwest side of the building, and down the corridor were four private offices for his management team and one large conference room located at the southeast corner. There were four small conference rooms located on the northwest side of the building, which were used for team meetings and private conversations. The sales and support personnel had individual cubicles across the floor. There was a break room with a full-sized kitchen equipped with a refrigerator, stove top, and microwave, as well as several round tables and chairs for the employees to use. Christopher would proudly provide the tour of the office and show his buddies how many people reported to him.

The thought of being unemployed and seeking new employment generated stress sweat underneath his armpits. Even if his buddies found out he was just a branch manager, he wanted to keep his job forever. He loved being the center of attention and having the power to determine someone's fate.

As Christopher pulled into his driveway, he felt good about his success and his home. He had visited several of his college buddies' homes, and none could compete with his, so he had another equalizer to offset their corporate titles. He owned a nice home in La Canada Flintridge, an exclusive suburb of Los Angeles where he planned to retire. La Canada Flintridge was only fifteen miles north of downtown Los Angeles, and he loved the community because the atmosphere reminded him of the Midwest. La Canada Flintridge was quiet, with tree-lined streets and acreage between the houses for privacy and public schools equivalent to the same level of some private schools. He met his wife of nine years in New York during one of his assignments. She was Jewish with dark brown, curly hair. She was overweight and short, but he liked his women with meat on their bones. More importantly, he couldn't have a wife that was more attractive than him because he demanded attention. When people saw them together, he knew they were thinking, How did this fine black man end up with this overweight white lady? After his decision to convert to Judaism, she agreed to marry him. She had two daughters from her previous marriage, and he adopted them. The two of them never had kids because she had a tubal ligation after her last daughter was born, and he never wanted any biological children of his own.

Christopher pressed the button on the garage door opener and pulled the car into his private