Читать книгу A Hell of a Woman - Ron Boone's Hummer - Страница 4

Don Gunn watched as Bob Nelson stared at his computer behind his mahogany desk, pressing his lips together several times.

“You signed this non-compete contract about 6 years ago?” Nelson asked. His voice was high pitched, thin.

“That’s right.”

Nelson was in his 40’s, nearly Gunn’s age, his sandy hair was parted in a three quarter inch part to his left, displaying the whiteness of his scalp. There was a trace of a five o’clock shadow that started to appear on his face and chin. His eyes seemed to squint through his sliver rimmed glasses.

“I guess a lot has changed at your agency since then.”

“You can say that again.”

“Now it’s Blake and Yurman Advertising and Public Relations.”

“Yes, they started getting into PR about 5 years ago.”

“So you realize you can’t work in a public relations firm for 2 years if you’re terminated?”

Gunn took a sip of his coffee from his paper cup. “Yes.”

“Let’s see,” he said, staring at the computer. “They do television ads, radio ads, brochures, recruitment ads, and outdoor ads.”

“I’m aware of that,” Gunn said indignantly.

“Then you’re aware that you can’t work for an agency that provides any of these services for 2 years even if you are terminated.”

Gunn rolled his eyes, not liking the word terminated.

“You should have talked to a lawyer before you signed this contract especially since you’re an at will employee, meaning you can be fired at any time for any reason.”

“I did. I mean, even if he made any changes, my agency wouldn’t have accepted it. Right?”

“True.”

“And it’s not like other agencies don’t have this contract.”

“True. It’s standard in a lot of industries.”

“Look, you think I like flying down to Miami to see you even though I live in Philadelphia.”

“The headquarters of Blake and Yurman is in Miami. The contract was executed by their lawyer in Florida.”

“I know. I have to hire a lawyer in Miami in case I’m laid off and want to fight to get out of my non-compete.”

The lawyer took a sip of his coffee from his blue mug. “Look, I mentioned over the phone that there may not be much I could do.”

“I understand that.”

He leaned back in his black swivel chair. “These contracts. They’re like a form letter that the lawyer filled out. They’re always air tight.”

“You know that they’re having layoffs in my firm. About 6 months ago, my boss was fired.”

“I understand.”

“There’s nothing I can do other than look for a job in another industry.”

“The contract is clear. You can’t work for a company that has a competing product to your company for 2 years even if you’re terminated. Some states have 3 years.” He took another sip of his coffee, stared at Gunn over the rim of his mug. “There is language in the contract that will stop anyone in the industry from hiring you because they can get sued as well. In addition, they can take out an injunction to stop you from working for a competitor.”

“Yes, and if I get fired, then I can’t work in my industry for 2 years.”

“That’s right.”

“Laws haven’t changed?”

“No, it’s up to the government to do something. Like they did in California.”

Gunn shook his head, clasped his hands behind his neck. “The only state where this contract is illegal.

“This contract should be illegal everywhere but it isn’t. It’s a career killer. They make it 2 years because they know that the industry will change and you can’t get back into it.”

“Just about everybody in my agency signed this contract. Production people. Accountants. Account managers. IT People. The media buyers. People in the art department.”

The lawyer chewed on the inside of his cheek. “That’s the way it works. Your agency is just trying to protect themselves.” He took a deep breath. “Trade secrets.”

Gunn shook his head, pressed his lips together. “Yet, we don’t know what really goes on in the boardroom.”

“Well, they’re trade secrets meaning that you have knowledge of the company and they want to protect their interests.”

“As I said, I don’t know what goes on on the boardroom. I have no insider information that I can share with anyone. As far as product knowledge is concerned or information on clients, that’s all public information.”

“I’m not trying to justify any of this. As I said before, this contract should be illegal but it isn’t. It’s up to the government to rectify this. It would cost you $10,000 to litigate and it’s more than likely that you would lose.”

“Since my salary is $55,000, even with commission, it’s not like I have $10,000 to burn.”

“I understand.”

“When I received the memo, it said that I had 3 weeks to sign the non-compete or I would be fired. Isn’t that duress?”

“Doesn’t matter. The courts will enforce it.”

“If I didn’t sign the contract, they could still fire me?”

“Of course.”

“What are the chances of the laws changing?”

“Not very good. In Massachusetts, they are trying to eliminate it but in Georgia, they’re trying to pass Amendment 1. If it passes, Atlanta’s laws will change and non-competes will be better enforced than they once were.”

“Why is that?” Gunn asked.

“It’s all about jobs. People are told that more jobs will be in their states if there are non-compete agreements. Companies want to open offices in those states that are considered employer friendly.” The lawyer took off his classes, cleared the fog by wiping it with his blue shirt, then put them back on. “That means a company wants to be located in a state where there are favorable court rulings for non-compete laws. Just like Florida.”

“Just great. I do have a question.”

“Okay.”

“I may have an interview coming up at a on-line advertising agency. Do you think I can work there?”

“As long as you don’t get involved in product advertising with that agency, or any of the other services, then that should be okay. You’ll probably have to get a letter from them stating this. Now, if your agency expands into on-line advertising within the next 2 years, then it could be a problem.”

“Even if I got the job.”

“I’m afraid so. If your company expands into other services, you can’t work for a company that has those services as well. Like I said, the company wants to make sure you don’t use any of the knowledge that you learned against them. The best thing to do is to look for a job completely out of your industry so you won’t be effected in any way. There are lots of job on-line.”

“Yes, I have sent out resumes. I don’t have any experience for those jobs.”

“It’s unfortunate. Companies like yours have an attitude that they’re doing a favor by giving you a job. Even if they fire you, they don’t have to give you anything, not even a severance package.”

“Nice. That’s the reason that nobody in the company isn’t getting a raise. The job is our reward.”

“The fact is that there is an old saying. He who owns the gold makes the rules.”

The sound of a car horn behind him broke Gunn from his reverie. He looked up at the light, saw it was green, then turned right into the South Mall.

“How much longer do I have to go?” Gunn muttered. He thought about the fact that he only had one raise since signing his non-compete in the last 6 years. He didn’t take it personally since he knew that just about everyone in the company didn’t get a raise either.

He took in the cool breeze from the air conditioner; music from Diana Krall filled the air as he parked between a white Camaro and a black Nissan. He pulled into the spot, turned off his ignition.

He checked his watch, saw it was 12:37, opened the door to his car. His thoughts turned to Rob Barker and his company, North Star Publishing. He balled his fists together, chewed the inside of his cheek. No, he told himself. Just forget about it, Gunn told himself as he slammed the door to his car. Think about something else. Anything else. It’s over with now.

Gunn walked to the mall, looked at the outside of the mall. “10 years,” he said to himself. That’s how long he worked at Blake & Yurman. At that time, they only did product advertising. It seemed like his career would take off after working in recruitment advertising for 4 years at Chandler & Marx. In those days, it was high pressure, getting the classified ads out for the Sunday paper. He felt lucky when he was offered the job at Blake & Yurman, thinking things had changed and all the late hours of being in a dead end job processing ads and taking help wanted ads over the phone was over with.

It was only 4 years later that he received the memo from personnel with all the other employees. The advertising industry had changed and most if not all the agencies had non-compete agreements. Even though his lawyer had mentioned that he can look into other options, there were no other options at this stage of his career. Gunn knew at the time that he had to sign the non-compete agreement.

He still thought of his wife, six months after her death in a car accident on Lake Road. You always hear about drunk drivers but never think that one of them would kill your wife, Gunn mused. He thought of her short blond hair that fell over her ears, her dark eyes, her smile.

One year after working at Blake & Yurman, he saw her sitting on a bench in Lincoln Park with a friend, a woman with red hair who he would learn was her friend Robin. He looked at her several times and she turned away, smiling. She knew that I was looking at her, he thought to himself.

Her friend had walked away from her, headed over to the hot dog stand. Gunn walked over, his heart racing, the woman continuing to stare out into the water. “Nice view,” Gunn said nervously. The woman turned, smiled. “Yes, it is a nice view.”

“The water is nice also,” Gunn replied.

The woman tilted her head, narrowed her eyes. “Are you always this blunt?” the woman asked.

“Only if I really want to meet someone,” Gunn said.

The woman smiled. “I’m Sara.”

“I’m Don. Don Gunn.”

They walked through the park that day, the three of them, Sara telling Don about her work in a law firm as a paralegal for Tolliver & Associates, LLC. She was a Phillies fan to boot.

Gunn shuffled along the line at Pan Wok, a picture of a man lost in thought, brooding. He ordered a chicken, shrimp and vegetable platter with a coke. Taking the tray from the register after he paid for the lunch, he sat down at an empty table near the back of the food court. As he took a bite out of his egg roll, he noticed out of the corner of his eye a woman much younger than him, staring at him from three tables away, then turned to sip her drink out of a straw. He turned and looked behind him, wondering if she was attracted to the three guys who sat at that table. One of them wore a Phillies jersey of Roy Halladay.

His mind wandered back to Sara as he took another bite of his egg roll. He thought back to his wedding 2 years later after they met, her pregnancy, her miscarriage. Yes, he missed his chance to have a son but he knew that Sara was his soul mate and one day they try again.

He had told her many times that he was concerned about his job, especially after signing the non-compete agreement. Sara’s firm recommended a law firm, Sherman & Holtz in Miami, Florida.

When Gunn contacted the firm, the attorney recommended that he see should send the contract first with a check for $350. He would review it and call him. Gunn sent it by messenger overnight and he got the call the next night. The attorney told him the contract was standard in the industry and that they could recommend changes but the company probably wouldn’t accept them. He should either sign it or look for a job with a company that doesn’t have a non-compete contract.

Sara said at that time “what are you worried about? Everything is fine. You’re doing well. You have a job. That’s what’s important.” Gunn knew that most if not all the agencies had non-compete agreements so he signed it.

Yes, he had a job but within three years, he wasn’t getting any advancement. He won a lot of accounts for the agency: Procter & Gamble, Best Foods, and Nike. Yes, he was named a senior account executive after nearly 5 years but the agency was expanding, being more concerned about their growth in their public relations arm.

The agency was losing money. Even though Gunn was one of the few people who brought in more accounts than the other reps, the firm continued to ignore his efforts. Then, after 6 years, the first set of layoffs started. He was nervous but knew he would survive since his team still made more money for the agency that many of the other teams.

When his boss, Cole Bowman was fired, everyone thought that Gunn was in line to take over. Instead, Bob Blake chose Stacey Jones, a sales rep out of the home office in Florida. She had only been with the company for 3 years.

He finished his lunch, emptied it into a garbage can. He looked at the woman again and saw that she was still staring at him, her hand perched on her chin.

He debated about going over to talk to the woman, lost the debate. The truth was that he hadn’t been comfortable talking to another woman since Sara died six months ago. Gunn thought the woman was nearly half his age and she wouldn’t have anything in common with him. He walked out of the food court and into the mall.

His first stop was Best Buy. He had planned to buy some jazz CD’s. He bought albums from Diana Krall, Rick Braun, Mark Antoine, Ramsey Lewis, and The Rippingtons.

Gunn remembered how upset he was at losing out on the promotion. He shook his head, knowing there was nothing he could do since he was on the non-compete agreement. He continued to look for jobs on the internet but he had no experience for any of them since they were in other industries.

He walked to the register, stopped to watch 2 people playing basketball on the X-Box. Video games are more lifelike than they were 20 years ago, Gunn mused.

After he paid for his CD’s at the register, he took the escalator upstairs, staring at his brown shoes, paying no attention to anything that was going on around him. He planned to go to the history section at Barnes & Noble, wanting to read Steve Coll’s Ghost Wars. He was interested in Bin Laden and the history with Afghanistan. Seeing the paperback edition, he grabbed it, then walked over to the fiction section. He grabbed paperbacks by Michael Connelly and John Sanford, debated about looking at true crime novels, won the debate.

As he reached that section, he looked at the books when a female voice behind him said “have you read the execution of Barbara Graham? It’s really good.”

He turned and saw the woman again, noticing a romance paperback novel in her hand. She was nearly his height, 5-7, her blue-black hair fell over her shoulders. The black scoop neck dress fell just above her knee, displaying her long tapering legs. Her top was cut low enough to reveal the deep cleft between her breasts that testified to their fullness.

“No, I haven’t read it,” Gunn said nervously.

She looked into his eyes, smiling. “Why don’t you buy it? I think you’ll like it.”

He bent down, took the paperback that was between two others, stood up, then returned her smile. “Thanks. I’ll read it.”

“Nice to see you smile,” she said, leaning against the shelf.

“Not sure I understand that.”

“You seemed so sad at the food court.”

Gunn was shocked, realizing that she was staring at him. “Guess I have a lot on my mind.”

“It’s such a nice day though,” she said, running her hand though her dark hair.

“I guess.”

“It’s the weekend. You’re done with work.”

“True.” His heart was racing.

“And the Phillies are winning.”

“Yep, they are. Going to see them on Thursday against the Diamondbacks”

“Nice. Roy Halladay is pitching. Must have been tough to get the tickets.”

Gunn licked his lips, trying to keep them moist. “It was a lot of money but it was worth it.”

“Yeah, I’d like to get to some games this year.”

“Uh huh.”

“How long have you been a Phillies fan?”

She could have left at anytime, Don thought, yet she continued to talk. He thought of the Starbucks and the tables that were a few feet away.

“Guess all my life.”

“Me too. Since I was 8 years old.”

“Since you were 8.”

“Sure.”

His heart was still racing as he looked into her dark eyes. “I was thinking of having a coffee over at Starbucks. Would you like to join me?”

She bobbed her head, said “I’d like that.”

“Okay. Let’s go.” They walked out of the true crime section together, Gunn surprised that she accepted his invitation. “I don’t even know your name.”

“Kim. Kim Hunter. My friends call me Kimmy.”

He chuckled at that, following her to a table. “Why don’t you sit here and I’ll get you a cup of coffee.”

“Okay, I’ll have a Carmel Macchiato.”