need to call the entire sales team in.” He waved the pencil toward Mary Lou and the agents on the other side of the table. “You can go. Walt and I will take care of this.”
The six men across from them scrambled out of the room.
Mary Lou didn’t move. Zedlav is Jackson’s account. Jackson is in Florida with his parents for Christmas. “I’m not leaving.”
Walt shouted at her, “Get out of here, girlie! Your boss and I have arrangements to make.”
Mary Lou felt heat rise from somewhere deep inside. She struggled to speak in a calming voice. “I am your top salesperson. I can handle it. Mr. Pederson, you do know it’s Christmas Eve?”
Walt motioned to the door with his thumb. “Christmas doesn’t pay your check, girlie.”
She looked at Joe. “You have a family. Your wife and kids need you to be there on Christmas Day. I think it would be better if I go. I’m single, and my family will understand. But your kids...”
Joe smiled. “That’s very generous of you, but I can’t let you do it. I don’t send my employees to Alaska on Christmas Day—”
Walt jumped in. “You two work it out. I don’t care who goes. Just get that contract signed.” With that, Walt Pederson turned on his heel and left.
Silence draped the room.
Mary Lou brushed a strand of blonde hair from her eyes. “If he calls me ‘girlie’ one more time....” She turned to Joe. “Please let me go. I’ve never been to Alaska in December. I’m sure Jackson won’t mind, since he’s in Florida.”
Joe started to smile, and then they both broke out in laughter.
He wiped a tear from his eye. “Mary Lou, this is a very kind thing to do for me and my family.”
Mary Lou shrugged. “Just so you know I’m not doing it for Walt Pederson.”
She left the conference room and made her way down the hall to her office. She sighed. It’s six o’clock. I have all my Christmas shopping to do. My feet are killing me. I need to get gifts, get them wrapped and delivered. I need to let my parents know I won’t be here for Mom’s Christmas dinner. Remind me again why I wanted to get into the oil business?
What do you wear to the office in Zedlav? Wait until I tell Eileen. Perhaps she can explain to our parents. I don’t have an hour to listen to Mom tonight.
And Bobby asked me out tonight. I think he just might be ready to propose. We’ve only been dating for a few months, but I’m pretty sure I could marry him. He’s the best-looking cop on the force. I’m such a sucker for a uniform. Her heart skipped a beat. Now I have to break our date. Ugh! I hate you, Walt Pederson.
I’m pretty sure Walt’s trying to kill me. I’ll probably freeze to death in Alaska in December.
Tuesday, December 25
Denver International Airport
Mary Lou boarded Alaska Airlines for her eight forty-five a.m. flight—which would take eleven hours, including layovers. The plane was as crowded as expected. She found her seat and struggled to reach the overhead bin. She was a few inches too short to reach. Finally, the man behind her took her bag and placed it in the bin for her.
She thanked him and took her aisle seat next to a young man returning to Zedlav to see his parents for Christmas. He said a few words and opened his book. Obviously he didn’t want to talk.
She opened her laptop and looked through the contract for the sale of heavy equipment to the corporation in Zedlav. Heavy construction trucks, loaders, and diggers, adding up to more than a hundred million dollars, had been contracted. All she needed was the signed document.
The Alaska Airlines flight left on time. She yawned and put away her laptop. At least I can sleep all the way to Seattle. Let’s see… She rechecked her itinerary. I get into Seattle at a quarter to eleven, then have a two-hour layover there and in Anchorage before I finally get into Zedlav at seven fifty p.m., my time. At least I should get a good night’s sleep when I get there.
This is so Walt. Here I am on Christmas, flying to the most remote place on earth.
The flight to Seattle took forever. Instead of sleeping, she found herself rehearsing her pitch and her plea to get the contract signed immediately. I just want to get home as soon as possible.
The meeting starts at nine o’clock. With any luck at all, I could make my presentation and get the signature by lunch. After all, they already have the quotes and estimates. It’s not like I’m going in cold. They fully expect to sign that contract tomorrow.
After two layovers and the switch to a smaller aircraft, her plane finally landed. She walked out of the terminal to board the freezing-cold hotel shuttle. I thought this was the land of the midnight sun. It’s pitch black out there. She peered out the shuttle’s frosted windows and hugged her purse to her chest. It’s so cold.
Half an hour later, she checked into the Moose Run Hotel.
It was almost seven o’clock Alaska time, but it seemed like midnight. Traveling had drained her; three flights in one day were more than enough. She stopped at the hotel coffee shop to order hot chocolate and a bowl of clam chowder. The warm liquid chased the shivers away, but she kept her coat on.
Her mind raced from one corner to another. I tell you, Walt Pederson hates me. He’s trying to kill me. She pictured Larry with his family, Eileen, and her parents enjoying a warm Christmas dinner in front of the fire back in Denver. She thought of Bobby being alone when they could have been together. I hate Walt Pederson. Yet here I am trying to save his bacon for year-end numbers. Well, better me than Joe. I hope his wife and kids appreciate what I’m doing.
She tilted the soup bowl to get the last spoonful of chowder. Then she wiped her mouth with the heavy cloth napkin. She gathered her purse and bag and took the stairs to her room.
The frigid room greeted her, and she immediately flopped on the bed. She was glad she’d remembered to pack her large heating pad. She quickly got ready for bed and got under the covers. Her body shivered on ice-cold sheets. I am so glad I brought the heating pad.
Mary Lou retrieved the heating pad from her suitcase. She searched the room for an outlet. She could unplug either the lamp or the clock. She was desperate to get some sleep, but she could not afford to oversleep. She pulled the plug for the lamp out of the socket. Then she struggled in the darkness to fit the plug from the heating pad. Her shoulder touched something, and she heard the lamp hit the floor.
She felt the plug go into the outlet. I’ll deal with the lamp in the morning. I can’t do this now. She fumbled with the switch on the heating pad and turned it on high. She slipped back into bed with the heating pad across her body.
Two hours later, she tripped over the lamp on her way to the bathroom. She fell, crushing the lampshade and hurting her knee. That’s going to bruise. She rubbed the knee and then felt around the lamp for the light bulb. She whispered, “Thank Heaven the bulb didn’t break,” and placed the lamp back on the nightstand. Will this night ever end? She found the bathroom and felt her way along the wall for a light switch. Finally she felt the switch, and the white room lit up, blinding her at first.
