Let me make up the time. Dock my pay. Anything. Decisions made. Clean out your locker. 30 minutes later, Michael sat in his car in the parking lot holding a cardboard box with three years of accumulated desk items, a photo of Lily, a coffee mug she’d made him an art class, his work badge now deactivated. He pulled out his phone to call his ex-wife to beg her for help with expenses until he found something new, then remembered she’d moved to Arizona with her new husband and hadn’t sent child support in 6 months.
He was on his own. That’s when he remembered the business card. He pulled it from his pocket, really looking at it for the first time. Catherine Morrison, CEO. Morrison, Supply Chain Management. Michael stared at the card. Catherine Morrison, CEO. The woman he’d helped was the owner of the company that had just fired him.
For a moment, Michael considered crumpling the card and driving away. What was the point? She’d given it to him before she knew he worked for her company. Calling her would be what? Begging? Using her gratitude to get special treatment. But Lily needed to eat. Their rent was due in 2 weeks. Pride was a luxury Michael couldn’t afford. He dialed the number.
Catherine Morrison’s office answered a crisp, professional voice. Hi. Um, Catherine gave me her card this morning after I helped her with her tire. My name is Michael Harrison. One moment, please. The hold lasted 30 seconds. Then Catherine’s voice came on the line. Michael, I’m so glad you called.