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The Women's Job - It's Confidential - Preview
🕑 Added 2022-08-12 14:49:30 +0000 UTCALL STORY LIST | CHAPTERS - CH 1 | CH 2 | CH 3 | CH 4 | CH 5 | CH 6 | CH 7 | CH 8 | CH 9
Dylan Matson sat outside of the CEO’s office waiting to be called in. He tried to remain calm, but this was very difficult as he had never been called into the big man’s office before.
Dylan had just turned twenty-four and had been working for Wade Industries for two years. He had been surprised that Wade had hired him and even more surprised when he was assigned to the sales department. Dylan had a degree in mechanical engineering from Purdue. However, Howard Wade had long decided it was easier to train engineers to sell than it was to teach salesmen engineering.
Even though he was in sales, Dylan wasn’t complaining, his base salary was excellent, and he also earned a commission. His supervisor, Bill McKenzie, had told him that all new engineers spent a few years in sales before moving on to design.
In his two years at Wade, Dylan had not only made all his sales goals but had exceeded them. He wondered if this was the reason why Mr. Wade wanted to see him.
Dylan casually glanced at his watch and saw that he had been waiting for twenty-five minutes. Well, there was nothing he could do about that, besides Bill knew where he was.
Mrs. Taylor, Howard Wade’s secretary for twenty-seven years glanced at the young man waiting to see her boss. She smiled slightly, wondering if he knew what he was getting into. Like most secretaries, Mrs. Taylor knew everything that was happening in the company. She ran her eyes over Dylan. His personnel record said that he was six feet tall, but she estimated him to be maybe five-ten. He was also thin, which made sense, as if was all part of the reason why he was here.
His family lived in a Chicago suburb, and he had attended Purdue on a full scholarship. She also knew that Dylan was single and wasn’t currently dating anyone. He had been dating a woman named Amy, who worked for an airline. They had broken up four months ago. The reason that Mrs. Taylor knew this was that she had read the special report that Mr. Wade had ordered on the young man.
A red light flashed on her desk. “Mr. Wade will see you now,” she announced.
Dylan nodded. He noticed the strange smile on her face as if she knew something he didn’t, and he wondered what it was.
Dylan walked into Mr. Wade’s office. He was struck by the fact that it wasn’t what he had expected. It was far from being lavish; instead, it was sparse but functional.
Mr. Wade sat behind an old oaken desk. It was large, but not pretentious. Dylan had heard the stories of how Mr. Wade was still a working design engineer.
The walls were real wood paneling. They were covered by the numerous awards won by the company. There was one wall that had several mounted fish on it, along with several photos of Mr. Wade with his fishing partners. Dylan had heard that fishing was Mr. Wade’s primary form of relaxation.
“Please sit down, Dylan,” said Mr. Wade. He pointed to a leather chair sitting across from him.
Dylan sat down and waited for his boss to speak.
“I’ve been reading your performance reports; you’ve done very well,” said Mr. Wade.
“Thank you, sir,” replied Dylan.
“I’ll get right to the point; I’m sure you’re wondering why you’re here,” stated Mr. Wade.
Dylan nodded.
“Have you heard of Connell Aviation?” asked Mr. Wade.
Dylan wasn’t sure if this was a test or not, but he could tell that Mr. Wade expected a response. He had taken it upon himself to learn something about all the major contracts that Wade worked with. He had also found an article on Connell online. “Yes, sir. They’re a major producer of private jets, catering to luxury personally designed aircraft. We’ve been a provider of ventilation systems to them since 1969. They’re due to start production on a new jet next year.”
“I’m impressed,” replied Mr. Wade. “Do you know anything about the CEO?”
“Savannah Connell, age 45, is the only surviving child of the company’s founder Harrison Connell. Her two brothers were both killed in flying accidents. She owns a rather large estate in central New Jersey and has the reputation of being somewhat of a recluse; at least, that’s what the article in Aviation Weekly said,” stated Dylan.
“Savannah didn’t get to be CEO just because she’s the daughter of Harrison Connell. She has degrees in aviation engineering in addition to having an MBA from Stanford. She was also a highly skilled pilot,” said Mr. Wade.
Dylan looked confused. “Sir, what do you mean by was a pilot?”
“I guess you didn’t read the entire article, she was involved in a crash fifteen years ago and is now confined to a wheelchair. From what I heard, the accident would have killed most people. She was hospitalized for over a year following the accident, and she found that thanks to computers and video links, she could run the company from her hospital room. She took this to the next level when she left the hospital. Now, she runs Connell Aviation from her home.”
Dylan wondered what this had to do with him.
“Savannah does have her quirks. While she runs her company remotely, she still insists on meeting all contractors face-to-face,” continued Mr. Wade. “Your name made the shortlist for presenting our contract to Savannah.”
Dylan’s eyes lit up. This would be a major coup if he was selected.
“Now, I need to tell you, this task does have some rather ‘unusual’ aspects to it,” said Mr. Wade.
“Like what, sir?” asked Dylan.
Mr. Wade stood up and began to slowly walk toward Dylan. “I’m going to tell you. Now, if you turn down this job, nothing else will be said. It won’t be held against you in any way.”
Dylan wondered what his boss was talking about. “Okay.”
“I’m also going to ask you to sign this before I go any further,” said Mr. Wade as he handed Dylan a form. “Read it and sign, please.”
Dylan looked at the form. It was a privacy form stating that Dylan agreed not to discuss anything he was about to be told. If he did, he would be subject to immediate termination from the company.
“I know this seems harsh, but Savannah insists on it,” said Mr. Wade.
Dylan signed the form and handed it back to his boss.
“Okay, thank you, Dylan. Now, part of the reason why you made the list for this job is the fact that you’re one of our best young salesmen. You also have the necessary engineering skills for the contract.”
Dylan wondered what was coming.
“You also have the right body size,” said Mr. Wade.
“Right body size?” asked Dylan.
Mr. Wade nodded. “I said that Savannah has some ‘quirks.’ This will have a major impact on your decision to take the job. Everyone who works on her estate is a woman. This isn’t by chance; Savannah only hires women to work on her estate. This gender bias doesn’t apply to her employees at the Connell Aviation plant, but all males who want or need to set foot on her estate must dress as a woman.”
Dylan’s mouth opened up. “You’re kidding, right?”
Mr. Wade shook his head. “Nope. Savannah insists on it, and if a man refuses to abide by her rules, they don’t get on the estate. If they don’t get on the estate, they don’t get a chance to present their contracts to her.”
“Why?” asked Dylan.
Mr. Wade shrugged his shoulders. “No one is sure. It may have something to do with the fact that she doesn’t trust men. The jet that crashed was found to have some faulty components. The man who sold them to Connell knew there was a problem and didn’t say anything. Many companies now only send female salespeople to see her.”
“But a woman can lie just as well as a man,” said Dylan.
“True, but I wouldn’t say that to Savannah.”
It took a few seconds for this to sink in. Dylan then looked at his boss. “Um, does this mean what I think it does?’
Mr. Wade nodded. “We don’t have a qualified woman to present our contract to Savannah. If we did, you wouldn’t be here right now.”
“You mean I’d have to dress as a woman?’ asked Dylan.
“Unfortunately, that’s right. I promise that your privacy will be protected,” said Mr. Wade.
“I’ve never dressed as a woman before,” stated Dylan immediately.
Mr. Wade smiled. “Dylan, we understand that. There’s a service here that will dress you and teach you what you need to know.”
“How long would I have to do this? I mean, what are we talking about, one day, two days?”
“If we get the contract, it could be weeks,” said Mr. Wade.
“Several weeks?” asked Dylan.
“Maybe longer,” said Mr. Wade. “You would be expected to stay there and work out the details of the contract.”
Dylan took a deep breath and let it out. “Wow.”
“Like I said, if you don’t want to take this job, I understand and nothing will be held against you.”
“May I think about it?” asked Dylan.
“Absolutely. Take the rest of the day off. Today’s Friday, why don’t you take the whole weekend to decide. Here’s my private number, call me when you make up your mind,” said Mr. Wade. He handed Dylan his business card.
“This is legit, right?” asked Dylan.
Mr. Wade nodded. “Just so you know, if you choose to accept this job, I can assure you that you will be rewarded quite generously. However, I don’t want you to do this because you think that I’m bribing you.”
“I understand. I’ll call you no later than Monday, sir,” said Dylan.
Mr. Wade smiled and extended his hand, which Dylan shook.
“Just so you know, two of our regional VPs had to dress in fem. I have high opinions of both of them.”
Dylan nodded and left the office. He now knew why Mrs. Taylor was smiling.
