right. So don’t lie to me anymore. Okay?”
“All right.”
“It’s a good thing no one saw you.” He clasped his hands together. “We’ve talked about this before. You have to resist this. She’s a beautiful woman. So was Mary.”
“I wish you didn’t fire her.”
“I had to. She was starting in about sexual harassment against you. We don’t need that kind of trouble here.”
“I know.”
“She didn’t make her quota that month. I was able to make her an example for the others so it worked out.”
“She was so hot.”
“I know. All the guys were looking at her.”
‘Except Austin. He just looked at her shoes.”
They both laughed at that.
Herman opened his desk drawer, grabbed his Penthouse magazine. “Bruce will be here in a few minutes. We’ll figure out what to do.”
“Okay.”
“Here.” He threw the magazine to Tim. He caught it, looked at the front cover.
“Is this the new issue?”
“Yes. Check out the centerfold.”
Tim opened to the center of the magazine, unfolded the picture. “Wow. I wouldn’t throw her out of bed.”
“And those legs. They’re so long, she could wrap them around the both of us.”
“They both laughed again, Tim slapping his knee.
There was a knock at the door and Tim slid the magazine under the couch.
“Come in,” Herman said.
Joan walked in with a cup of coffee, placed it on Herman’s desk.
“Is the list of the sales reports for all the stations ready yet?“
“I’m checking it over.”
“What time did you leave here yesterday?” his voice growing louder.
“5:30.”
“Did you check the list then?” Herman asked.
“Yes.”
“Then bring it in and stop wasting time checking it all the time,” he replied angrily.
“Fine,” I’ll print it out.”
“Just e-mail it to me.” He balled his fists together. “No sense in wasting any paper. I tell you this all the time. Don’t print so much.”
Joan bit her lip, ran her hand through her brown hair.
“I’ll e-mail it to you in a moment.”
“Fine.”
She turned and left the room, shutting the door behind her.
“How long has she been here?” Tim asked.
“About 9 months.”
“That’s longer than any other secretary you had.”
“Well, she got a chance to do voiceovers for commercials and I told her that if she wanted to do that, then she would have to sign a non-compete. So she did.”
“Why lock her into a contract like that especially when you could hire someone that is hotter and younger than her.”
“Don’t think I didn’t try,” Herman responded. “I had 3 ads out on different job sites and all I got was a bunch of dogs. So I hired Joan.”
“Guess you really needed someone. Cindy was really hot,” Tim said.
“Yes, and she left within 3 months.”
“Maybe if you weren’t so tough on her.”
“I need someone that can do the work. If they can’t, then that’s their problem.” Herman turned, gazed at his computer screen and looked at his e-mail. “Another resume for a sales job I had about a month ago,” he muttered. He clicked on it and read if over. “Now here’s another resume. I don’t even have an opening for a sales position. But people send me resumes anyway. Not like they even have any industry experience. Look at this one. Bob Metzger. Worked in sales for a company that works with libraries. Libraries.” He moved his swivel chair like a neurotic jockey, raised his eyebrows. “He sold their database for them. Worked there for 12 years. Lost his job about 6 months ago.”
“Guess people just send resumes around.”
“I called on a few of them just for the hell of it. One guy worked in sales for a database that had court cases on them. He worked with law firms. Like we could get a lot of law firms to advertise with us. So I called him.” He took a sip of his coffee, let it dribble onto his chin and desk, set it back on his desk. “He was there for 15 years and was laid off. It was more than obvious that he didn’t have any experience in radio or any companies in the industry. So I asked him why he sent me a resume. Why?” He took another sip of the coffee, drained it. “He said he was looking for a new opportunity and was under a non-compete agreement which meant he couldn’t work in his industry for 2 years.”
“Ours is for 3 years.”
“That’s what I told him. Hey, it’s not my problem that he can’t get a job in his industry but it’s a waste of time for him to be sending me a resume. I don’t need someone like that but I get hundreds of resumes” - here, his voice grew louder - “from all these unqualified people, most of them who lost their jobs.”
“They lost their jobs because they didn’t make their quota so they were dead wood there.”
“You’re probably right.”
There was a knock at the door and Herman said “come in.” The door opened and Bruce Thompson stood in the frame. He had a mass of red hair slicked back in oily waves, revealing a low hairline. His thin lips were split in what was intended to be a smile, but there was no trace of it in the eyes that squinted through his dark rimmed glasses across the high bridge of a small hooked nose.
“Morning Bruce,” Herman said.
“Morning Herman. Tim.”
“Morning.”
Bruce walked in, shutting the door behind him.
“I was talking to Tim about what happened with Diane yesterday,” Herman said. “It seems that nothing happened other than a comment that was made where Tim was giving advice about what she should do in California.”
“So nothing happened as far as her getting an unwanted kiss.”
“Is
