Hi all, here’s the start of Chapter 1. Finally.
Monday, 3 August 2009
8:26am
Westbound MRT train to Raffles Place
Two soft objects pressed against my back as a surge of bodies forced it’s way into the already packed train.
It was insufferable. Being slightly taller than the average, and with hardly no personal space left, my nose was already at level with many heads. I had very little say in the matter of using my nose to sniff out which brand of shampoo my fellow commuters had used, or if they even washed their hair in the first place.
The group of people who intensified the already packed situation congratulated themselves for being able to get on the train, while those already in the train gave them death stares.
I had no choice but to retreat, seriously encroaching the personal space of the lady behind me. I felt a hand press into my back, probably in protest, and I turned back and apologised.
Me: “I’m very sorry Miss , but I’m being pushed back as well.”
“S’Okay, no worries,” came the feminine voice with an Aussie accent.
The train jerked forwards as it made its way out of the station, and I felt the ample bosoms pressed into my back shift as the lady behind me stumbled. I heard the clopping sound of heels against the floor as she regained her balance.
“I don’t mean to come across weird, but you can hold onto my elbow if you need support,” I said, turning around to address her.
“Kind of you, but I’ll be OK I think.”
I vaguely recall seeing tall, tanned lady as I got on the train. Didn’t get a good look at her though, perhaps I will later.
The train continued it’s journey, and when it disgorged a load of passengers at City Hall, I heard the woman exhale a sigh of relief as she stepped away from behind me. She took an empty spot next to me, which finally gave me a good look at the girl who’d spent a good part of her commute unintentionally giving me a raging boner.
An Australian-born Chinese (ABC), judging from her accent and appearance. Her hair was swept up into a loose bun, stray locks of hair enchanting her feminine appeal. Although her blouse was loose cut, her large breasts put strain on the buttons of the silky top. She was typing into her iPhone, and her assets were so sizable that she had to hold the device further away lest her boobs block her view of the tiny screen. The girl was full-figured, but not unpleasantly so. Her full curves tapered to her narrow waist, then flared out into a skin-tight pencil skirt. Her legs were muscular, and her heels gave her calves great definition.
What a contrast she was to the slender, delicate Adeline.
Adeline, I thought ruefully. Got word from the turnaround team at Tak Shing a few days ago, that both she and Ah Shing had taken leave of absence. Apparently, they had a huge shouting match at their office about a week after my return to Singapore. Accusations of infidelity thrown both ways, and members of the Manticore team had to break up the fight. They disappeared from office for a few days, which made it tough for the turnaround team to get Ah Shing and Adeline’s signatures on handover matters.
The couple turned up one day, telling the turnaround team that they needed to go on an extended leave of absence and would be leaving Tak Shing to the good hands of the turnaround team and Manticore Legal during their absence. This turn of events fell in very conveniently with what I had articulated in my email to Darren and Nuruddin.
That aside, I didn’t know if the long leave would help Adeline and Ah Shing patch up.
Would it matter to me?
Should it matter to me?
I felt a bittersweet tugging in my chest as I recalled the final evening with Adeline.
“See ya,” a voice pulled me out of my reverie. I watched the seductive sway of hips as the attractive ABC alighted at Raffles Place.
This was my stop too, and I fell into step with the rest of the alighting passengers.
It’s time to move on. I told myself. I’ve had a good run with Adeline. Move on.
Joining the bottleneck of office workers at the upriding escalators, I became just another face in the crowd. Then again, I’ve always been.
Saturday, 18 July 2009
4:41pm
“Le Magnifique Horologie” watch boutique, Mandarin Gallery, Orchard Road
Nuruddin sighed as he strapped on a Royal Oak. “You are one cold fucker.”
“Ehhh… But you can’t fault him for his dedication to Manticore! Come, I make you employee of the month!” Darren replied in jest as his discerning eyes scanned the selection of fine timepieces available.
The email sent on Wednesday was the official report, and I supplemented with factual observations and findings during my debrief to Darren and Nuruddin when I returned to Manticore Corporate on Thursday.
Darren knew I was bonking Adeline, and suggested a “man-date”, with Nuruddin included, to go through the unofficial, actual version of the events.
I tried to be evasive about how I felt about Adeline, but being best buddies for so long, Darren knew that I was holding back. It was odd to let my inner thoughts out in a watch boutique, but the staff were well-trained and gave us room to talk.
“Shit, I know a no-strings-attached fling is hard to resist, but man… Swooping in for the kill when you’ve discovered her point of weakness, then leading her on… All while knowing that we’d bump them out of their company sooner or later… That’s cold.” continued Nuruddin, who is often the voice of reason and rational thought.
“Well, it’s only business and millions of dollars in the balance, right? It’s all about the endgame and Manticore Electronics, right?” I shot back despite feeling so small.
“Guys, chill.” Darren turned to me, “Take some time off. Get Adeline out of your system. We may have an acquisition for you to help take your mind off things.”
I said in my best primary school student voice, “Are we done yet? Wanna go
pang jio
…”
Monday, 3 August 2009
10:56am
Manticore Corporate Office, Raffles Place
“Hi Auntie Guan,” I greeted Darren’s Senior Executive Secretary. “Darren and Din said that they needed to see me urgently.”
Auntie Guan was one of Darren’s Dad’s most trusted secretaries in the old company. She possessed a sharp mind and had an almost divine eye for detail. She would take pains to train the junior Executive Secretaries under her, but God help them if they ever repeated the same mistakes. Having taken many junior Executive Secretaries under her wings over the years, we gave her the nickname “Auntie”. When Manticore was started, Darren’s mother had asked Auntie Guan to help ‘keep an eye on things’.
“Go right on in, they’re expecting you,” she replied warmly.
I proceeded through the frosted glass doors into Darren’s office, wondering what the matter was.
Darren looked up as I entered, “Archna’s taking no pay leave. Her boy’s just been diagnosed with Stage 3 Neuroblastoma.”
I was stunned, a couple of years ago, Archna - a Consultant like me - had brought her then-newborn son into office to show him off. She was the very much the proud mother that day.
“Can we do anything?” I asked.
“Her boy’s already covered under the company’s medical benefit for staff, and we’ve increased the benefit cap. We’re also helping to seek out the best paediatric oncology specialists here,” said Nuruddin.
“But as you’d already be guessing, we didn’t called you in just to deliver this sad piece of news,” Darren continued. “We need your help to cover Archna’s takeover assignment.”
Nuruddin handed me the file and said, “We’re sorry that this is short notice, but the other Consultants are tied up. You’d be the last person we’d ask to handle this, but you’re the only one available now.”
I looked down at the company name.
Printed in bold was “Allison & Omari Pte Ltd”.
The incident when I refused to rise for the sales team toast was a hot conversation topic for the days immediately following the Allison & Omari annual dinner of 2004.
No one had the guts to snub the President, Mr Chiang, and the entire sales team like that.
And they made sure to make an example out of me.
For months the sales team staff kept coming up to my desk and asking me to go on ‘urgent’ sales pitches, at the worst more than three out-calls a day. Where the discussions used to take place after the sales rep had already established an interest in the titles to be sold, I was dragged along on cold sales site-visits. Like a door-to-door salesman. I had to stay in office until ungodly hours of the day to catch up on the work that had piled up.
Making things worse was: for some miraculous reason, the titles and projects I was handling also had urgent publication deadlines to meet. When I tried clarifying with Mr Subra, he said that the orders were legitimate - all having come from the account servicing department. I smelt a rat, and Mr Subra agreed. But even he could not grant me a deadline extension.
He tried to redistribute the work that I couldn’t clear to the rest of the Trade Publications team, but there’s only so much that an already stretched team can take. They now had to stay back even later because of me. Selene and DF were understanding, but there was hardly any light coming from any bloody tunnel.
My defiance, my resentment, was making my colleagues suffer.
Coupled with the fact that Darren’s beloved father had died suddenly and I needed to stand by him as a best buddy, I was at my wit’s end.
When you have your company President and an entire fucking sales division trying to kill you slowly, you know it’s time to bloody leave.
“The acquisition’s already a done deal. You are to accompany the takeover team and just make sure things proceed according to the plan of action,” said Nuruddin.
I grunted an acknowledgement.
“The team goes in tomorrow. So… that’s where you’ll be heading. So if you have no further questions, we’ll inform Allison & Omari that a new Consultant will be standing in for Archna.”
I left the office with the file in hand, and requested the Acquisitions Division to forward all related info to me. I anticipated a fair bit of reading up to do.
Memories of the unfair treatment at Allison & Omari surfaced, and my jaw clenched in anger.
I had been forced to leave the company, like a dog with my tail between my legs.
A part of me wanted to raze the damn place to the ground, now that I was in a position to. I wanted revenge! Vindication!
Inhale.
Exhale.
Repeat.
No, I’ve got a job to do. And I intend to do it well.
Can’t say thank you enough for the kind words of encouragement and points!
I’m starting to realise that writing a story takes a fair bit of thinking through the overall storyline and then plugging in the details. If it doesn’t make sense, then the whole story arc needs to be changed again.
So from time to time, while I’m still getting ideas, I’ll post shorter updates that I hope will give readers a better understanding of the main character’s past, his thoughts, his situation.
As many of you can see, some posts are longer and some shorter. Some dealing with sex only and some spelling out the corporate aspect of the story.
This whole thing is an inconsistent mash up of styles, but I hope readers can bear with me.
A quick update next:
Tuesday, 4 August 2009
1:08am
Playground near Block 414, Bedok North Road
The calm purring of the neighbourhood cat helped to salve the ache in my soul.
Dinner was a simple, lonely affair as I ploughed through the material on the Allison & Omari purchase. The past two weeks since my return from Hong Kong marked a dry spell in sex and companionship. Two weeks may be nothing for others, but… I have a high sex drive.
But beyond sex, I thought it would be nice to have someone to talk mundane things with. To have someone to look forward to seeing.
A briefing with the senior management of Allison & Omari had already been arranged for tomorrow - correction, it’s already 1am - later on this morning, to outline the turnaround plans, ‘seek their cooperation’ in the tough recommendations to be made and yield whatever info that was required. Meetings such as these always have an undercurrent of hostility.
Not surprising, as we’re often seen as executioners coming in to lop heads off at whim.
Executioner or not, I wasn’t looking forward to going back to a place that had smacked me around.
I sighed.
Giving the cat one last stroke along her back, I got up and headed back to my flat.
That’s gotta be the first pussy I’ve touched in weeks, I thought with a wry smile.
Tuesday, 4 August 2009
8:50am
Palazzo Towers, Beach Road
There’s a saying, Shakespeare I think, that goes: “the clothes maketh the man”.
I examined my reflection in the mirrored glass fronting the office tower that housed Allison & Omari. The suit fit me like a glove and gave me broader, more impressive shoulders than I actually have. I should be exuding confidence, but beneath the suit were fluttering butterflies in my stomache. I’d probably used too much gel in my hair, too.
The sweltering walk from Bugis MRT station to Palazzo Towers all the more convinced me that power dressing in this tropical heat was an ill-thought idea.
I did a double take when I looked at the tie I had put on. It was the same tie that I’d used on Adeline that fateful day. And a few more occasions after as well. I smiled at the memory.
“Wah, here already ah?” came a chorus of voices from the turnaround team.
There were five of them: Sally, Seha, Rai, Chong and Benjamin; all specialists in areas such as finance, HR, operations, business development, accounting, etc. They were extremely competent, and I wondered once again why Darren and Din didn’t just pick any one of them to take Archna’s place.
I turned to look at the assembled group, glad to be working with such capable folks.
“Right, well, let’s get this started,” I said as cheerily as I could.
Crowds of office workers had already begun to form queues at the lifts. When we got off at the 18th floor where Allison & Omari was, we saw a couple of staff shuffle in as if it was the start of another day working at the coal mines. A flashback of my time as editor there made me sigh inwardly.
We proceeded through the glass doors and headed to the reception.
“Yes, where from?” asked the sour-tempered receptionist. I had not seen her before. She was new, not surprising since I’ve been gone for 4 years or so.
“We’re from Manticore Ventures. We’re expected by the Director of Corporate Services,” I replied.
“Hah? Man
Teh-kor
?” she shot back with a frown, eyeing us suspiciously.
This was new, I never would have thought that the company’s name could be distorted to refer to men’s underwear in the Hokkien dialet. Darren would
so
get a kick out of this.
But at that moment, I didn’t know whether to laugh or to cry.
“Man-ti-core, madam,” I emphasised.
“OK, hole on,” she said with a scowl.
I took that as a cue to give the receptionist space to do her thing.
“Dilector clearing leave. Rep coming to meet you,” said the receptionist as the phone clattered back into place.
A few moments later came the sound of heels on the floor. As it drew closer, and I turned toward it.
Approaching us was a lady, probably in her late 20s, clutching a file as she moved with an easy grace towards us. She was slightly shorter than me, and had curves in all the
damn right
places. Her matching ensemble of a blue sleeveless blouse and knee-length skirt clung to her like a second skin.
She wore what I call ’the corporate smile’. It’s not an insincere, fake put-on kind of smile, but one that is friendly but reserved. Her sharp features were framed by her honey brown tresses that reached below her shoulders.
Stopping in front of us, she looked confused and asked, “Good morning everyone! Is Archna not coming in today?”
Obviously, the message of a change of Consultant didn’t get through. Must have something to do about the Corporate Services Director clearing leave. Perhaps a tendered resignation…
Chong piped up, looking a little smitten, “Archna’s on urgent leave. This one’s taking over in the meantime.”
“Hi,” I said simply.
“Uh, OK, please follow me and I’ll show you where you’ll be based during your time here in Allison & Omari,” said this lady in blue.
She took the lead, bringing us into the office proper and pointing out locations along the way. “Here’s the President’s office… and there’s the Directorate Offices… the Executive Washrooms are over here… And the Executive pantry is over at that corner.”
Of course, I knew all these places already. The rest of the turnaround team were taking in their new surroundings.
Standing behind this lady in blue, I couldn’t help but notice how firm her bum looked, and the mesmerising sway of her hips.
But I was lost in my thoughts for the moment: Oh, gee, look at me now! I thought. I get to use the same bloody toilet and pantry as the office gods!
There were two other sets of toilets for the rest of us grunts, and a large common pantry I nicknamed the ‘snake pit’.
In a moment of sudden clarity, I asked myself, why do I still hold so much resentment?
The blue lady led us to (what I remember) a meeting room. She spun on her heels and opened the door. The room had been refitted as hot desks, each with a telephone and data point.
“This is where you’ll be stationed. And in this file are the listings of key departments and their HODs, fire evac routes, and other admin details for you to look through at your own pace. The network config settings are in here too,” she said to the turnaround team and handed the file over. Pointing to the small room next door, she said to me, “And that’s gonna be your room.”
She glanced at her organiser. “The meeting with the Directors takes place this afternoon at 3pm at the Conference Room.”
“If you guys need anything,” she continued, “You can reach me at my extension listed in the file. As a matter of fact, I just got news last evening that I’m to be your liaison. So you’ll be seeing quite a lot of me.”
I stifled a smirk, as what she last said could have sexual connotations.
“I’m sorry I didn’t introduce myself earlier, I was letting the news sink in.
I’m Elise Tan. And it’s a pleasure to meet you all!”
Tuesday, 4 August 2009
12:11pm
Bermuda Triangle Caribbean Sandwiches, Beach Road
Lunch was a quick affair – a trip down to a nearby sandwich bar, with Elise leading the way. No complaints here, my appetite wasn’t good. I was mentally steeling myself for a boardroom showdown with a vile nemesis. Besides, the back view of Elise, or any view for that matter, was a welcome distraction.
She was standing at the collection counter of the sandwich bar. Her hands were clasped together on the countertop, a receipt in one hand. With a relaxed posture, she bore the weight of her body on one elegant leg while the other was slightly bent at the knee. The lines Elise’s body formed, from her bare shoulder to the curve of her waist, the swell of her bum and tapering down to her legs, were screaming sex appeal.
I was horny. It’s been weeks since my tryst with Adeline. I could fuck anything that moved.
Focus on the task at hand, I told myself.
I heard Elise laugh, something amusing that the guy serving her said. She’d be used to being the recipient of male attention, I thought. Elise walked over to us, sweeping a lock of hair away from her fringe.
“So sorry for the delay. Shall we head back to the office pantry?” she said with a smile.
Subconsciously, her finger sweeped along one collarbone to remove a stray strand of hair.
I was rooted to the spot for some reason, while the turnaround team followed her lead.
Elise turned around, smiled at me and said in all innocence, “Are you… Coming?”
Oh boy.