“Well, Junior asked me to call and let you know you won’t be representing Bruckmeister and Son in Chicago, so…that’s what I’m doing,” Sam said succinctly.
“Junior” was Jake Bruckmeister, Jr. He had been working his way up through the various offices within the firm, obviously being groomed to take over when his father finally agreed to retirement. At the moment, Junior was running the corporate analysis group where Peggy worked. Generally speaking, whatever Junior said needed doing got done very quickly. No one wanted to irritate the future CEO and president. On the other hand, he rarely bothered himself with such mundane tasks as determining the selection of attendees at minor training conferences and seminars. Peggy was incensed; her anger flared immediately at the interference from the man.
“Are you there, Mrs. Whitely?” Macmillan asked.
“You’re taking me off the trip?” Peggy asked in a strangled voice. “Why? Is there something I don’t know about?” This last was delivered with suspicion.
“No, not that I know of,” Sam replied. “No one’s told me anything,” he added. “But I will need for you to come into the office tomorrow morning as usual since you aren’t going…or would you like to take some annual vacation time?” Peggy heard it now. She could hear the amusement in his voice.
Sam wasn’t a bit dismayed one of his people wasn’t going to the training. She could picture him chuckling quietly to himself at her misfortune. It enraged her even more than she already was.
In his office on the fourth floor of the downtown office building, Sam Macmillan was indeed smiling into space. He was more than a little pleased Peggy Whitely wasn’t going on the trip. Peggy had no idea the word had gotten around she wanted Sam’s job. With the lack of training this conference would have provided, he would be fully justified in downgrading her quarterly performance report due next Thursday.
“Okay…I’ll see you bright and early tomorrow morning,” Peggy trilled into the phone. She wasn’t about to let this Macmillan creep see how dismayed she was. She pressed the disconnect button on her cell phone and stared out the kitchen window.
This meant she and Roger, the only unmarried guy of the four who were going to Chicago, weren’t going to find any time alone in a hotel room so she could finally get even with her husband. Roger hadn’t known anything about it, of course, but he would have gotten lucky the second night in the hotel. Peggy doubted he would have turned down the opportunity. Tough luck; he wouldn’t be getting any now. Then her eyes narrowed as she thought of her career. She’d been scheduled for, and needed, this training for her next step increase in salary. That was going to be delayed now, and it wouldn’t look good in her personnel file. It pissed her off.
It took a week for the rumors to filter down from the front office that Peggy’s trip to Chicago had been canceled because she had been planning a little diversion with one of the men going with her. The Bruckmeisters, Senior and Junior, hadn’t seen the file clerk bent low beside the massive file cabinets to replace a folder in the bottom drawer. Junior had been in the process of getting an explanation of why Peggy Whitley had to be pulled out of the training conference.