looking for another job. I don’t know which one of these spoiled brats is worse. I’m ready to go. Just fire me and let me pack up my things.
He motioned for her to take the chair across from him as he sat at his desk. She sat across from him quietly. After a moment, she spoke. “I’m not sure how to say this, Morris.”
Here it comes. Just spit it out, lady. I have places to go and people to interview with. Morris forced himself to keep the apprehension out of his voice. “Please be direct so we can get on with what needs to be done.”
Lyza rubbed her hands together. “All right, then. Morris, you’ve been around here for a long time, and you’ve done a great job.”
Is it necessary to pad the impact? Just do it.
Lyza continued, “I appreciate all you’ve done. We’re going to make some changes here.”
Morris pushed his chair back. “I understand. I can be out of here today.”
Her eyebrows rose. “What did you say?”
Morris stood. “You’re letting me go, right?”
She leaned back and crossed her legs. “No, I don’t want you to leave.”
His neck felt warm. “Oh, I thought this was an exit interview.”
Lyza smiled warmly. “Not even close, Morris. I’m giving you a raise.”
“A raise?” He felt the tension leave his shoulders.
Lyza nodded toward the chair for him to sit back down. “All the change and upheaval the last few months has been stressful, I’m sure. You’ve been under a lot of pressure. I want to assure you that I have no intention of firing anybody. However, there is work to do. I want to change the way we do business at Lane. Until now we’ve gotten a reputation for cutthroat business practices that include just about anything to increase the numbers on the bottom line. I want to change our reputation.”
Morris processed the information. I’m not getting fired. I’m getting a raise? He took a deep breath and tried to take in Lyza’s proposal for changing the conglomerate’s image.
Lyza explained, “This is a family business. The business now belongs to my son. For that reason, it’s important that he receives a healthy, productive business with a sparkling reputation for honesty and compassion when he takes over.”
Morris, still trying to get his head around all the new information, measured his answer. “Business isn’t run on honesty and compassion. I’m not sure it can be done and still make money.”
Lyza put her hands on her hips. “I think we can pull it off, Morris. Give it a day or two to sink in. I want to give a five percent raise to those who have stayed with us through these difficult days. Also, anyone who has left the company and returns within the next sixty days will also be eligible for the same raise from the salary they left. However, seniority will not be extended, because people who stayed should move up the rung for their loyalty.”
He cleared his throat. “That seems right.”
She stood. “I want to give you a heads-up. I’ve called a meeting of directors, and I want you and whomever else you think should be there from your staff. We can talk anytime before the meeting if you feel it’s necessary.” She moved toward the door. “Thanks for meeting with me, Morris.”
He stood, still in shock. “Yes, ma’am—Lyza.”
“Lyza. Please, Morris. Just Lyza.”
***
For her first community service assignment, Leesa met the work crew at the parking lot of the Los Angeles County Courthouse. Joe, the supervisor, handed out orange plastic bags. “Every time you fill a bag, bring it to me, and I’ll give you another one. We start in this parking lot. After it’s clean, we’ll go out on I-10 for the rest of the day.
“Here, put these on.” Joe handed out orange safety vests.
Leesa looked around at the seven other women donning vests: four black, three Caucasian, and one Hispanic. Two wore ankle bracelets. Leesa remembered what Aaron said about her attitude and kept her mouth shut, making sure to follow instructions. She pulled on her rubber gloves and took the long stick with sharp end for trash pickup.
She headed for a pile of debris in the corner of the lot. A car drove by and honked. She jumped.
The muscular black woman, covered in tattoos and wearing an orange vest matching the streak in her hair, waved them off with her middle finger. “They act like they never done nothing wrong.” Then she laughed. “Or got caught. I’m Kayla.”
Leesa said nothing, stabbing a discarded paper cup and depositing it in her bright orange plastic bag. Her goal was to fill as many bags as possible. Aaron said to make a good impression. She bent over and gathered a bunch of newspapers, which filled her bag.
After less than fifteen minutes of such work, sweat poured from her forehead into her eyes. The warm California sun beat down on the crew. Leesa turned in her third filled bag.
Joe called the group to the van. “All right. This looks good. Let’s get on over to I-10 and get some roadside cleanup done. Everyone in, ankle bracelets in front.”
Leesa climbed into one of the back seats. The air conditioning kicked in after a few minutes, and she felt welcome relief from the heat of the day. She already smelled her own sweat and felt filthy.
Twenty minutes later, the van stopped on one side of the highway. Joe ordered everyone out, and the women scattered to pick up trash. Joe drove along the side, keeping pace with them. Leesa left her full trash bags along the road for later pickup, grabbing new ones off the back of the van when it stopped every now and then.
The van stopped once again. “Over here! Everyone take a break and get some water.” Joe nodded toward the large plastic container with white spout at the bottom at the back door of the van. “Here’s a paper cup. When you’re finished, put it in the recycle bag.” He picked up a blue bag to show them. “You got ten minutes to rest. Let’s get this done.”
Boy, am I going to be sore in the morning. Leesa kept working silently while Kayla, working beside her, kept talking all morning about why she shouldn’t be there and who was going to pay if she chipped one of her nails.
Near the end of the morning, Kayla turned on Leesa. “What’s wrong with you, girl? You think you better than the rest of us?”
Kayla stabbed the same piece of trash as Leesa. “You can’t talk, or you just a jerk?”
Leesa looked her in the eye. “I can’t afford to get into any more trouble. Please don’t make it any harder than it already is.”
Kayla threw her head back and laughed. “I’m trying to make it easier, girl.”
Leesa frowned. “How do you figure?”
Kayla smirked. “You just wait. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
I hope not.
Joe motioned for all the women to get in the van. Back at the Los Angeles County Courthouse parking lot, he
