Sure, the guy might be an immature tool like every other guy I’ve dated, but at least I would meet someone new. I had a challenging time with guys because they all wanted to play games and have fun. I had goals, a life, and a lot on my plate. I was starting to think there wasn’t a mature guy left out there.
Chapter Three
Nathan
I lived on the 51st floor of The Avalon, an apartment complex dedicated to the service of the excessively rich. There were 69 floors, maid service, concierge service, a café and roughly every amenity you could come up with. I liked it because everyone had their own little cliques, and I wasn’t part of any of them, so they left me alone. I was born into a wealthy family, so having a maid and all of that was perfect for me. I never had to worry about the little things. I stopped off at the café and grabbed a cup of coffee, saying hello to the usual barista, Gabby, who always had a sweet smile for me. I liked pleasant people, they made me want to be friendly to others as well.
As I walked toward the front door, I looked over to see George, Avalon’s doorman, standing to the side looking through some papers. He was one of my favorite people at the complex, and I was happy to see him since he had a firm grasp on things and usually gave wise advice. He was a portly man, in his mid-fifties, and always wore the standard bellhop outfit in red with gold trim. It made me think of those wind-up monkeys that slap the symbols together. It also made me appreciate my Louis Vuitton suit that was pressed and perfect on my back.
“George,” I said smiling and reaching out my hand. “You look younger by the day, sir.”
“Mr. Pope,” he said smiling back and grasping my hand tightly. “I feel younger by the day, too. How is business?”
“It’s great,” I said nodding my head up and down. “We are thinking about expanding overseas, it’s an enormous undertaking.”
“I’ve heard,” he said looking interested. “I read in Forbes, though, that companies that want to continue for decades are almost forced to expand internationally, so they don’t get left behind.”
“That is very true, all-American only works for a select few,” I replied. “My advisor has been trying to convince me to move forward with outsourcing to fund our expansion, but I’m struggling with the idea.”
“Well, as a working-class man outsourcing is not something I support,” he said. “But I have a different perspective than you. You personally need to choose what’s best for the company, but remember what’s best isn’t always what is most lucrative in nature. Sometimes you have to lose a little to gain a lot. Just my thoughts on it.”
“Your thoughts are always insightful,” I said smiling and shaking his hand again. “I’m off to work, you have a fantastic day and don’t let these richies give you a hard time.”
“You too,” he said with a wink.
One thing I always loved was the insight I garnered from George regarding the collective common man. It helped take my face out of the quarterly reports and remember that my company did have an impact on everyone else. It was hard to see that from the ivory tower at the top of the company, but George was always the man to let me know when I haven’t been thinking everything through. It was true, I had to do what was best for the company, and from the outside outsourcing seemed like the right choice, but I needed more time to figure out what my other options were.
I hopped in my town car parked out front waiting for me and headed to the office, which was only about seven blocks from The Avalon. I looked out the window at Central Park which was across the street and wondered about the people who went to the park to play with their dogs, read a book, or just walk around. What was their
life like? Were they part of the system disrupted by outsourcing and corporate greed? It was a deep thought, something I usually tried to stay away from, but this one was going to have a direct impact on how I ran my company.
When I got to the office, I sat down and skimmed through my emails, answering the important ones. There were always so many damn emails that I could sit here all day, every day, and still not make a dent. I needed to hire someone just to go through my inbox every day.
“Mr. Pope,” my secretary said from the intercom. “Chris Cantu is here to see you.”
“Yes, send him in,” I said, closing out my desktop.
“Chris,” I said as he entered the office. “How are you feeling?”
“Still hungover from our Saturday debauchery,” he said plopping down in the chair in front of my desk.
“You too? I pretty much laid around the apartment reading the paper all day yesterday,” I said. “Even my normal green smoothie didn’t take away the punch.”
“Neither did my plate of fried foods,” Chris said laughing.
“You need to consider a healthier diet,” I replied, always getting on him for eating like a teenager. “One day you’re going to wake up with clogged arteries and a hundred extra pounds.”
“I don’t think it happens overnight,” he laughed.
“All the more reason to get ahead of the game now,” I said smiling. “Besides, chicks don’t like fat guys, unless they have enough money to make it worthwhile.”
“True,” he said lifting his eyebrows. “But speaking of getting ahead of the game, have you put any more thought into outsourcing?”
“Of course, it’s been on my mind,” I said with a sigh. “I’m not quite ready to make a decision. There are a lot of things to be weighed and it kind of goes against the whole reason I started this company in the first place.”
“I understand you have your way of doing things,” he said leaning forward. “But at some point, you may have to step out of your comfort zone to push the company in the next direction.”
“That’s true, but to do that I need all the facts,” I said taking a deep breath.