Chapter 3

Chapter Three

Jay Sullivan knew something was wrong as soon as he stepped in through the swinging doors fresh from his meeting at a new tech company on Fifth. The New York office was quiet. Too quiet. Desks were empty of people, and the normal level of noise accompanying the work at Drayton Partin Marketing was gone. Hell, it hadn't been this quiet since two weeks before Christmas when they lost three accounts in one week. He spotted Roger from Accounts slumped in a far corner and made his way over to him.

"What the hell's happened?" he asked quickly.

Roger shook his head. "Taking everyone in one by one," he began, He visibly straightened in his chair. "I'm still here, but Jean's been let go, Adam, Emma. I'm the only one. They're downsizing and telling us all today."

"They're cutting Accounts down to one person?"

"Me and two interns on piss-poor money."

"I'm sorry, man," Jay offered. He liked Roger. In fact, he liked the whole team. It was a shame that everything had to come to this.

"Don't be sorry for me. I kept my job, and despite a downgrade in pay, I'm luckier than others."

Jay cast a glance at the empty desks. Accounts butted up to the desks the marketing executives like him used. Where was Colin? Lisa? He knew. With sudden and sickening clarity, he knew.

"Us too?" he asked. "They're cutting posts on the marketing teams?"

Roger nodded but looked confused. "Everyone is down in the canteen, and they're being taken out one by one, but you know that. You're here, so you made the cut, right?"

"I was out at a breakfast meeting. I didn't know anything…"

Jay dropped his laptop bag on his desk and inhaled sharply when he saw the Post-it note in Colin's handwriting.

We're fucked. Canteen now.

Jay closed his eyes momentarily. He loved this job, and Drayton Partin was a big company to get into at the ground level. Hired straight from his degree in business and marketing, he'd spent four years with this team, and they'd pulled in some impressive clients. He was only a junior still, but he had a good salary, and the cut-throat marketing arena was his version of heaven.

Losing accounts like they had was hard, but Drayton Partin had seen worse, greater, losses when the dot-com bubble burst. Surely this was just a blip? Drayton Partin wouldn't get rid of their best assets? Would they?

He grabbed his bag, squared his shoulders, and headed for the stairwell.

"Good luck," Roger called as Jay reached the door marked "Fire Exit and Stairs."

Jay looked back and was struck by the expression of complete isolation and desolation on Roger's face . Fuck. What if Colin was made redundant? or Lisa? How would he look them in the eye if he still had his job? The three of them had some really good clients, and they worked so well as a team. What if it was him they were cutting, which was more than likely? What about medical insurance? What about Ashley and the kids? What about the rent? Despair pulled in his stomach as the world began closing in on him.

Jay reached the canteen and stood for a moment outside the door. He could see through the circle of glass, and everyone was sitting quietly in the hard plastic dining chairs. He couldn't see Colin, but that didn't mean he wasn't in there somewhere—Drayton Partin had over sixty of their staff in that room, packed into rows.

Steeling himself against everyone looking at him, Jay pushed open the door. As he suspected, every single eye turned to him, and he saw panic, and shock, and resignation in different expressions. Lisa immediately stood and crossed to him, hugging him briefly. He returned the hug but looked over her shoulder for Colin.

"He's inside," she murmured. "They're not letting anyone back in after they've spoken to them."

"I saw Roger upstairs."

"Who else?" she asked quickly.

"No one. Just Roger. He said the others were all let go."

Lisa's whole body sagged in defeat. "That's what I thought. Roger has twenty years here, the rest of Accounts less than that."

If Roger's length of time at the company was the litmus test, then Colin was ten years older than Jay and had been at Drayton Partin for twelve years. Lisa had ten years under her belt. He was the baby of the team. The newbie.

"So it's last in, first out?" Jay asked. He couldn't help the fear that colored his words. Being out looking for a job at this time, with the recession tightening everyone's belts, was a scary, if not terrifying, proposition.

"No one knows," Lisa said.

She went back to sit in the chair at the end of one aisles, and for a second Jay didn't know what to do. He should sit and wait like everyone else. He was in the same boat; he was nothing special. Although he worked hard, covered his hours with the correct levels of income, he was low down on the ladder. In his head, he began summarizing his résumé. A business and marketing degree from NYU—not Harvard, or one of the other Ivy Leagues. Smart and presentable, but not anything sharp in a thousand-dollar suit. With a feeling of absolute submission, he took the seat in front of Lisa. No one talked to him. Not one person said hello, and it wasn't as if he started conversations. Every single one of them in this room was in a kill-or-be-killed position.

The door opened.

"Lisa McAllen, please," a voice demanded.

There wasn't a body that Jay could see, but he recognized the voice as that of the CEO's personal assistant. She was obviously trying to keep a barrier between her and the masses awaiting their fate. She didn't need to worry, no one here looked like they hadn't been expecting this. Job-loss statistics, even in the city of New York, were steadily reported each night on the news.

Lisa stood up, and Jay sent her a reassuring smile. She pursed her lips, and her eyes looked bright with tears.

Try not to cry, Lisa , Jay thought.

He wondered how long each interview took, but when the next name was called in three minutes, he realized this wasn't an exit interview where the person got to convince management they could stay. No, this was a simple apology about being let go and maybe a leaflet on what happened next. Final. Absolute.

Ten others had gone in before him, and each time he had the sense they were walking to the gallows. No wonder people weren't talking, if they all felt like Jay.

"Jay Sullivan, please."

Jay stumbled upright, gripping hard to his bag, and walked in the direction of the voice and through the door. He knew what was behind there: the old smoker's room, which had a door leading to where he had come from and another going straight to the corridor and the exit on this level. The room had been redecorated since all smoking had been banned in the building, but it still had the scent of its former use. Jay pushed open the door and watched bemused as Irene, the PA, closed it behind him. A desk had been placed to one side, and on its front were two boxes. Two women he didn't recognize were manning the desk. The first had a sheet of paper from the pile to her side, and the other a list of printed names that she had a finger on—probably on his name.

They didn't waste time.

"I'm sorry to keep you waiting, Mr. Sullivan. Bad news, I'm afraid. Drayton Partin is having to make some dramatic cuts to support continued growth and stability. Unfortunately some hard decisions had to be made, and that included looking at personnel requirements. Your job no longer exists."

"Okay," Jay said blankly. He had lost his job. In a few words, his career was stalled.

"If you could return your pass…."

Jay fumbled in his pocket and pulled out the card with the magnetic strip. He glanced down at it as he handed it over. The smiling Jay he saw on the front was a slap in the face. The second woman took it from him and placed it in the left box along with a substantial pile of other cards. From the other box, she pulled out a business card.

"Wilton's Personnel is handling this transition," she said pleasantly enough. "There will be more information through the far door." She indicated a door behind her marked with a temporary sign—"Wilton's"—and Jay realized there was another exit he'd forgotten, one that opened to a loop back to the stairs. Evidently successful people were being sent back to the office. "If you could also leave your laptop with us." She indicated a pile of bags in the corner of the room.

He recognized Lisa's bright pink bag immediately.

"I have some personal photos—" he began, then shut his mouth. What were they going to say to him? It was not like they'd tell him it was okay to fiddle on his laptop when this was the end of the line.

"Your desk contents will be boxed and anything personal will be sent on to you. Any personal files on your IT equipment will be forwarded. Please take a card."

He took the card without thinking and the corner of it poked into his thumb. "Thank you." It was all he could say—words escaped him.

Irene ushered him out of the "Wilton's" door and closed it behind him. The corridor he went into widened into a small seating area, and there was Lisa, ashen-faced and in tears. Next to her, with a similar expression of shock, was Colin. So it had been three for three. Wordlessly, Jay slumped down on the sofa next to Colin. They were the only ones there.

"We waited for you," Colin said carefully.

Jay didn't know what to think. Colin had expected him. He guessed once Colin lost his role, then Lisa and Jay would be sure to be on the same list.

"I'm sorry," Jay said softly. "You and Lisa don't deserve this."

A bleak look filled Colin's eyes. "Nor do you. But—" He sighed heavily. "—that is what life is like now. One day you have a job, the next—" He snapped his fingers. "—it's gone." Colin stood. "Come on, let's go join the others."

Jay followed them down the corridor and heard the noise before he saw the people. He walked into chaos.

Some who had lost their jobs were vocal, shouting the odds and demanding answers. Others simply stood with vacant expressions of shock and watched the bedlam around them.

I have a family, you don't get it!

Twelve years and this is what I get!

And the partners get brand new cars!

We'd already taken a pay cut!

Words spun around Jay's head: voices he recognized, some he didn't, which belonged to people he had never met. Administrators, canteen staff, marketing people like him. He recognized Jean, who was crying, and Adam, who was shouting—both from Accounts.

Several members of Wilton's Personnel tried to answer questions, but no one was listening. Jay stayed with Colin and Lisa and waited his turn. Soon he became aware he had probably slipped into shock. When he left the building for the last time, he had two weeks' pay in his account and a thank-you letter for his hard work.

Feeling like a failure and letting his family down was the freebie on the side.

The journey home was completed in silence. Lisa joined him for the first part of it, but her stop was four before his. He had a full ten minutes on his own in the crowded, tourist-filled train. He had a five block walk from his stop, but that was at least a way to give him time to think. When he pushed his way into the apartment, he was met with the scent of cookies, and he smiled to himself for the first time today. Ashley was in a baking mood, which meant perfect cookies: crumbly, gooey in the middle, and filled to bursting with chocolate. His sister was an expert in the chocolate goodness.

Jay crossed behind her and reached around to steal a cookie. She spun in shock, then pushed him away from her with a huffed laugh. He juggled the hot snack between his hands and retreated far enough away from her to not have the chocolate heaven stolen from him.

"You'll make yourself sick," she admonished.

"No, I won't."

"You'll singe your mouth."

Jay took a big bite of the cookie and cursed silently as the melted chocolate burned his tongue. "No. I won't," he lied around the mouthful.

"You want coffee with that?" she asked.

"God, yes," he said quickly. "Strong, very strong."

She glanced at the clock on the wall. "You're home early."

"Working from home," he said immediately. And yes, that was a lie, but he wasn't ready to dump everything on Ashley—she'd only just started to smile properly again. Not the smile she used for the world, but the smile he remembered from his childhood when he had doted on his big sister. When it was them against the world. She'd pulled up her long hair in a bun on top of her head and fastened it somehow so that it stayed. The laws of physics did not seem to apply to Ashley and her gorgeous hair. He was the one whose hair played him up every day—all cowlicks and curls. He kept it short so he didn't have to worry about it. Both had thick blond hair, one of the benefits of their somewhat confused heritage of Irish, Norwegian, Greek, and whatever else they had in their blood.

He set up his home laptop on the table. Funnily enough, it had been the personnel firm taking back his work laptop that had been one of the hardest things to handle. He had spreadsheets on there from his very first day, with milestones recording his journey at Drayton Partin. To lose those had hurt. They wouldn't be considered as personal files.

Jay turned his old machine on and waited for it to boot. He dug into the small plate of cooling cookies that Ashley placed next to him, along with some dark strong coffee.

She dropped a kiss on the top of his head. "You look tired."

"Just a lot of work," he offered in defense.

"You need cake." She laughed. "Lemon Drizzle or Chocolate Layer cake?"

Jay looked up with a soft smile. He loved Ashley so much, loved her kids. This was the small unit of people for whom he had to make things right. "You need to ask?"

She shook her head. "Why are you not overweight?"

The question was one she asked all the time, and he had a standard answer. Ashley was as slim as he was, but he loved to tease her. "You got the looks, big sis. I got the fast metabolism."

And her reply, as familiar as breathing. "And I hate you for that, little brother."

Jay concentrated back on his laptop and angled it so that Ashley couldn't catch a look at what he was searching for. He pulled up websites for all the major marketing players and lost himself in searching, with a background of the scents and sounds of Ashley baking.

No one was hiring. Some, in fact nearly all, advertised graduate positions at half his salary. Other than that? Nothing. Next stop, recruitment agencies. He had no doubt about his skills and was confident in approaching the biggest firms.

The first one he rang from the privacy of his bedroom said in no uncertain terms that he was the twelfth person from Drayton Partin to phone today. They agreed to see his résumé and that they would file it for future reference, but they didn't want to see him, which stung.

The second biggest didn't mention people phoning but wanted to see a résumé before they even continued the conversation. He emailed it over as they instructed. He heard nothing back immediately, but they were busy people… right?

The third and fourth offered appointments for a chat, tomorrow.

"Uncle Jay!"

Josh's voice was at his door, and Jay shut his laptop and pushed it to one side. He clambered off the bed and opened the door, and his six-year-old nephew launched himself at him with a whoop. Jay caught him and held him close.

"Mom made me chocolate cake!" Josh shouted happily.

"That's my cake," Jay joked.

Josh wriggled to be let down and scampered over to the kitchen. "Not if I get there first!"

Work search forgotten, Jay, Josh, and Ashley enjoyed cake, juice, and some pretty normal family time. In those moments, as rare as they were, Jay felt truly at peace.

Interview one was a bust. They had him filed under administration posts that weren't in the marketing department. Their reason for this was that there was nothing in the way of jobs at his level in the marketing field. They suggested leaving New York, finding another city where jobs were available. They thanked him. He left.

Interview two didn't last ten minutes. Jay had a speech prepared to sell himself to the agency so they would find him a job, but he never got the chance. A fire alarm broke into the interview, and when outside in the parking lot, the woman he had been talking to confided that actually they had nothing on their books and essentially hadn't for maybe two months.

She suggested looking outside the city. Seemed like a common theme.

Dinner that night at home was a solemn affair. Jay was quiet, and he knew it. The thing was, this unit of theirs sometimes depended on him and Josh keeping the conversation going. Especially when his sister was having a "down day" like today, and it wasn't as if his niece, Kirsten, was the most verbose of teenagers.

The problem was, tonight, even Josh was subdued. He picked at his spaghetti and pulled the rest apart on his plate. Josh was never quiet—he was life and laughter and a bundle of positive energy normally.

"What's on your mind, buddy?" Jay asked softly.

Josh raised his gaze to Jay. "Something happened at school," he began.

"What?"

Josh was happy at his school; he had a couple of friends and was enjoying playing mini basketball with them on every possible break. It didn't help he was the shortest among his friends, but he still had fun.

"Derek told me some stuff and I told him it wasn't true, but he said he'd read it."

"What about?"

"You, and being momosecshal."

"Homosexual," Jay corrected instinctively.

"Yeah, that."

"What did he say?"

"That the Bible said you shouldn't want to kiss another boy and that if I ever tried to kiss him, he would thump me."

Ah. So it had happened. Jay wasn't in the closet, but he didn't make a song and dance about his sexuality either. Josh had met Jay's last boyfriend, Mark. Hell, the two of them had even gotten along and Josh hadn't said anything that suggested he thought it was odd, or different. So he considered his nephew and the fact that Josh was six. What did Jay need to say to be able to handle this one? "Some people think that," he began diplomatically.

"Bigots," Kirsten interrupted.

While he loved that Kirsten was so at ease with the world and the whole issue of equality, "bigots" probably wasn't the right word to explain to Josh how people could be. Jay shot her a discouraging look. She very deliberately put the buds of her MP3 headphones in her ears and pointedly stared in the opposite direction.

He continued. "Anyway, some people think that, but I don't agree. I think God wants you to love who you love."

"So, if one day you loved a girl, that would be okay with you?" Josh asked curiously.

"If that happened," Jay said. When hell freezes over. "It's not going to happen, though. I like men."

"I like Melanie in the next class. She smells nice and has really cool lunches. I don't wanna kiss Derek. He picked his nose in assembly and everyone saw it." Josh wrinkled his own nose. "So, yeah, can I have more water?"

With that, the conversation was over. Josh accepted what Jay said and took it all in his stride. Jay had to admire the little guy—he was being raised by a goth teenage sister, a depressed mother, and a gay uncle.

Yay for the American nuclear family.