A week or two later, Mr. Moffatt called me into his office. After asking me to close the door, he gestured to me to have a seat. “Please keep what I’m about to tell you in confidence, Ms. Martin” he said. “You remember that Executive Committee meeting that took place during Expo? Well, I actually did tell the Committee that I was planning to retire. But once I found about the debacle with Scott Benson the Committee asked me to stick around and try to clean up the mess he had made.
“But now everything seems to be running pretty smoothly, and I’m going to go ahead with my plans to step down. I’ll be making the announcement after lunch today, but I wanted to give you advance notice so you wouldn’t be caught by surprise.”
I was shocked at his news but grateful for his courtesy to me.
“The other thing you need to know,” he said, “is that you’ll be getting a new boss: Peter Hammill. I hope you’ll be pleased at that news.”
“Oh, Mr. Moffatt, I’m delighted for Peter, but you’ve been so wonderful to work for I’m really going to miss you.” With that I stood up and stepped around his desk to gave him a big hug. He beamed at me and gave me some very nice compliments. Then he asked me to call Peter and have him come up.
When the two of them finished their meeting and Peter came out, I made a point of congratulating him on his well-deserved promotion. “Thanks, Jess,” he said warmly, “that really means a lot to me.”
As he left the office, his warmth lingered with me for a while but then the feeling began to fade as I gave the whole situation more thought. By the afternoon I was in a blue funk.
At the end of the day Marge popped her head around the corner and asked me to come with her to the tavern after work. “Marge, I’ve got some things I need to do at home,” I told her, but she wouldn’t take no for an answer. I guess part of what makes her so valuable to the CEO is that when she pursues something she is absolutely dogged about it. Ultimately, I gave in.
Once we were seated in the tavern, she leaned over the table and fixed me with an intense stare. “Alright, Jess, let’s have it: what’s eating at you?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Marge,” I protested.
“Bullshit!” she said, which shocked me because Marge almost never curses. “You’ve been moping around for the last few weeks like a little kid with a sick dog, and today you’re acting like your dog died. I would have thought you’d be happy about working for Peter. Tell me what’s wrong.”
I tried to resist but suddenly something gave way inside and I found myself wiping away my tears while trying to put my feelings into words. “Peter’s promotion is the last straw, Marge. I just don’t think I can bear to see him and be so near him every day.”
“I don’t understand, Jess, why not?”
I sniffled. “I know that his wife’s affair and their divorce were rough on him, but once the divorce was final, I thought he’d relax around me, maybe want to get together or go out with me. But whenever I see him he still treats me like a friend, like one of the gang. It’s killing me.”
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