Personnel Policies

Contents

Prologue

CHAPTER 1

In the Beginning…

CHAPTER 2

The Temptation of Man…and Woman

CHAPTER 3

And, then there was Jezebel.

CHAPTER 4

Turn that Frown Upside Down and Smile for the Lord, and He Will Bless You and Keep You Day by Day

CHAPTER 5

That Bitch Delilah Didn’t Just Cut My Hair. She Slipped Nair into My Shampoo.

CHAPTER 6

Idle Hands are the Devil’s Plaything

CHAPTER 7

Three Kings, a Lady, and Joker’s Wild Equal One Hell of a Full House

CHAPTER 8

Hail, Mary, Fool of Grace

CHAPTER 9

Proud Mary Magdalene

CHAPTER 10

Thou Shalt not Steal or We Will Kicketh Your Arse

CHAPTER 11

The Truth Shall Set You Free…and so Will Half Truths

CHAPTER 12

I’m Not My Brother’s Keeper, but If I’m Going Down, He’s Going Down with Me

CHAPTER 13

There’s Glutton about Mary

CHAPTER 14

Revelations. Amen.

Prologue

This novel is entirely a work of fiction. Although some characters and events may be based on fact, they have been greatly embellished. If you see yourself in any of the characters, may God, Buddha, Allah, or the higher being of your choice forgive you.

Any other similarities between the characters in this book and persons living or dead are purely coincidental to an extent. Rest assured, all names have been changed to protect the innocent…and especially the guilty.

CHAPTER 1

In the Beginning…

As I opened the taxi door, the brisk spring wind hit my face like a mother’s comforting hand. I hated being the center of attention, and tonight was my night.

I gave the driver a ten, tipping him generously for the three-dollar ride from my apartment down the street. Another gust of wind blew through my brown curls as I made my way toward the entrance to the Four Seasons hotel. Halfway there, I paused.

I’m going to need a cigarette before I make my grand entrance, I mumbled to myself, fumbling in my coat pocket for my smokes and my Zippo.

I cupped my hand around the reluctant flame, trying to shield it from the breeze. Succeeding, I inhaled deeply and looked up at the twilight sky as I sat down on a bench outside the hotel. I exhaled slowly and watched the stream of smoke reach for the night’s first star.

My name is Steven Taylor. I’m 33 years old, and I’m going to be married in two weeks. I will be moving to California on Monday to join my wife to be, and tonight, my office is giving me a going away party. I know I said I was reticent about joining my colleagues at the party, but don’t get me wrong. I loved my job and most of the people with whom I worked. What 30-something wouldn’t want to work as director of new media for a hip advertising agency where almost everyone except the head honchos are younger than 40?

My lack of enthusiasm about participating in the festivities stemmed from a gut feeling that tonight was going to be more than just a typical send off. After working at The Idea Shack for the past ten years, I have never heard nor witnessed so much gossip and scandal as I had in the past year. I didn’t mind this turn of events. In fact, I felt as if I had been caught up in the middle of a soap opera, and this made work exciting. I even felt a tinge of sadness that I was getting killed off, so to say, and I would have to rely on second-hand information to learn how the story played out.

I first arrived at The Idea Shack as a fresh recruit from the University of Texas. I started out designing Web banners back in the days when the information highway was merely a dusty dirt road. Ten years ago, the new media department consisted of only three people, including myself. The department manager designed Web sites in HTML, and Java was something that he drank throughout the day to stay awake after a night of partying on Sixth Street. The other employee specialized in creating animation. Eventually, she and the manager left The Idea Shack and formed a gaming company in San Jose. Last I heard, they had sold the company and retired as multimillionaires before the age of 30. I should have gone with them.

I, however, remained loyal to my beloved Austin, and being the only person left in the new media department, I was allowed to build it into what it has become today. Over the years, I expanded the department to include three Web developers, five Web designers, and five multimedia experts. The walls of my department, which once were adorned with album covers and concert posters, are now also a showcase of plaques and awards.

I try to be a humble man, but I have no apprehension gushing about what I accomplished at The Idea Shack. This afternoon, I passed the baton to my replacement with pride. But, as I left the hallowed halls, I could not help looking over my shoulder solemnly.

I took a final drag from my cigarette, stood up and exhaled slowly, trying to delay my entrance even longer. The party had started an hour ago, and I knew everyone was probably wondering if I was even going to show up for my final farewell. I had to go inside before people started calling my cell phone or coming outside to look for me. I pressed the butt into the ashtray by the front door, took a deep breath of the crisp air, and walked in.

The party was being held downstairs, and I could hear the revelry before I hit the first step. As soon as I rounded the corner, I was surrounded by hands and faces. I was barraged with pats on the back and handshakes and words of congratulations and good lucks.

I don’t even recognize half these people, I thought to myself, trying to escape the crowd as I made my way to the bar. I claimed an empty seat and vowed not to move from it all night, if I could help it.

Two shots of Cuervo Gold and a Tanqueray and tonic, I said, catching the bartender’s eye. He placed two shot glasses in front of me and poured the tequila.

Taking advantage of the open bar, I see, he replied with a smirk. He continued to make my gin and tonic as I downed the two shots.

It’s my party, I answered, the warmth of the tequila warming me from the inside out. I could feel the tension leaving with my sobriety as I sucked on the wedges of lime. I’m going to need whatever I can get to make it through this night, I said, stuffing the spent peels in one of the shot glasses. I shoved the two glasses across the bar and fidgeted impatiently while the bartender finished making my gin and tonic.

Trade you, the bartender finally said as he handed me my drink. Smiling, he added, I went light on the tonic and the ice. He winked as he went back to mixing drinks for the others at the bar.

Trying to refrain from gulping my drink, I swiveled around in my chair and searched the room for familiar faces. At a table in the corner of the room by the back door, I spotted my protégé and replacement, Miriam Lester, sitting with some of the other creatives. Finnbar Murphy, a senior copywriter, was the only male sitting at the table. He appeared to be regaling the ladies with an entertaining story because I could hear their laughter all the way across the room.

Miriam sat back in her chair and smiled as she shook her head. Julia Steinberg, the production director, rolled her eyes. Leilani Howard, senior art director, covered her face with her hands. Sonya Barrett, a senior marketing director, playfully shoved Finn, causing him to knock over his drink. Laughing, he stood up from the table and headed my direction, carrying his empty glass and wiping his shirt with a cocktail napkin.

Steven, he cheered as he approached the bar. Another Jack and Coke, he said, motioning to the bartender.

I was envious that he was already as drunk as I wanted to be. I only needed thirty minutes and about three or four more gin and tonics to achieve my goal.

Hey, Finn. That’s some harem you’ve got going over there. Are you sure you can handle it? I teased as I nodded my head toward the table. Or, should I say, are they sure they can handle you? I raised my eyebrows and curled up one corner of my mouth.

You’re just jealous because in two weeks, you’re going to be sentenced to a lifetime of monogamy. He winked at me, his blue eyes twinkling with jest and the effects of the liquor.

Finn, you know better than I do that marriage does not guarantee monogamy, I remarked, raising my eyebrows again. Half the women at your table are married, and I can think of one in particular who may not live by that rule. And, I paused, pointing at him accusingly, if you haven’t succeeded in your quest to corrupt and seduce her, you wish she weren’t the faithful woman that I know she is.

Feigning innocence, Finn responded, I don’t know what you’re talking about. Anyway, he continued with a hint of melancholy, being able to come home to someone who loves you is probably better than coming home to an empty apartment. He caught himself being sensitive and looked at me. God, that was so cliché, he said lightheartedly, shaking his head as I laughed. He rubbed his forehead with the heel of his palm and ran his fingers through his spiky blond hair. Sorry, it’s the alcohol, he said embarrassed. I’m going to go now before I begin reciting poetry about sad clowns and rainbows.

Finn thanked the bartender for his drink and glanced back at the table where Miriam was pressing two fingers to her lips, signaling that she was going outside for a smoke. Finn answered her with a nod. Smiling slyly, he said, Catch you later. He dodged the other partygoers as he made his way across the room. Miriam grabbed her purse from off the floor, stood up, and met him at the door. I watched in amusement as he held the door for her so they could go outside for a cigarette.

This episode has been sponsored by Marlboro, Jack Daniels, and Trojan, I thought, sipping the last of my drink and watching the flame from a lighter illuminate their silhouettes against the night sky.

CHAPTER 2

The Temptation of Man…and Woman

Miriam Lester came to work at The Idea Shack five years ago after being laid off from one of the hundreds of dot coms that went bust. I’ve watched her grow and blossom over the years, and I played an instrumental role in her promotion as my replacement as director of new media.

Miriam was like a trifle. On the surface, she was an easy person to figure out. From the outside, you could see all the different layers—each layer very different, yet accentuating the others. Her true feelings were difficult to hide, and when she didn’t like something, or somebody, she may not have verbalized it, but it could be sensed.

Like a trifle, most of the layers were sweet, but a few tart ones were thrown in for balance and texture. That was Miriam. After getting to know her, her complexity became apparent, which I attributed to her ardent disposition. Miriam was an extremely passionate person on both a professional and personal level. Once she made a decision about something, she became committed to making things happen, and she dedicated her entire heart and soul until she achieved her goals.

Because I hired her, I was well aware of her talent and intellect. But, Miriam was the type of person who sized people up before she let down her protective wall and allowed her true self to shine through. If she trusted someone, she would let him or her into her little universe. And, if she liked a person, she had a hard time letting that person escape from her realm. If her intuition told her otherwise, she only reinforced the barricade to shield her.

Miriam was an attractive woman, but she was not the type of female men fantasize about. Her sensuality exuded from her personality, and I had observed her entrance many a man with her quick wit, logical thinking, and humor. What made her even more seductive was the fact that I think she was oblivious to how mesmerizing her character and intelligence were. All she was concerned about were making people laugh and getting the job done.

These diverging aspects of Miriam’s passionate, yet rational, disposition soon became apparent after her first two weeks at The Idea Shack. Her first project at The Idea Shack was to create a Shockwave movie for a client’s Web site and software installation CD. She had a little less than 10 days to create three different movies from which the client could choose.

When she presented the movies to the client, to her dismay, he picked the one she hated the most because it was run of the mill and like everything else on the market and Internet. For more than two hours, she fought for the movie she had worked the hardest on and was the proudest of. In the end, her struggle paid off.

Miriam didn’t convince the client by being pushy. Although she was assertive, she won the client over by dissecting the marketing plan and demographic information and by presenting the facts in an entertaining way. I had never witnessed anyone use her sense of humor to close a business deal, but Miriam did that day. I could also tell that the client based his decision on the fact that Miriam wasn’t