Little Differences

"I'll do it," offered Kevin as he turned to Russ, "then you could present the idea that you and I had about the employee reviews."

"What idea is that?" Peggy asked.

Russ explained, "The managers have to perform employee reviews every year. We just went through the last cycle and it was brutal."

"Why?" Peggy asked.

Kevin broke in, "Because the managers are still required to utilize the existing system that HR has in place. It relies almost entirely upon Key Performance Indicators that are no longer being measured under the New World of Work environment and the collaborative work culture that Bruce has initiated. Managers came to us asking for reports on things like how fast an agent answered an inbound call or how much time they had a customer on hold during a call, and that data no longer applies for many agents. As we move to providing customers with other options for support, such as online chat, e-mail, and FAQs, simply measuring an agent's phone activity won't be a true indication of their performance."

"Ah," Peggy said in understanding. "We need new KPIs. What did you guys have in mind?"

"We've come up with some things that we think would be better measurements for the agents while still being objective enough to satisfy HR," Kevin said. "Most are pretty straightforward, such as tracking how many times an agent contributes information to the global knowledgebase, how many times they pull information from the knowledgebase, and their customer satisfaction score. The one that we think we'll need Bruce's help to sell to HR is more subjective. We think that the agents' performance should be graded more by their peers than by their manager, so we want to develop a means to do just that."

Peggy nodded and said, "That can be tough to accomplish without it becoming a popularity contest. How do we keep it a fair and unbiased measurement for each agent? I can see that being HR's biggest concern. Have you run your idea past anyone in HR yet?"

Kevin and Russ both shook their heads. Russ answered for the pair, "We didn't want to overstep and thought that we would run the idea past Bruce first. If he embraces the idea, he might want to present it to HR himself."

Peggy sat silently in thought for a couple of minutes before asking, "How do agents currently collaborate most frequently; by messaging one of their coworkers or simply going to talk to them, right? Now, regardless of the support option the customer chooses, every interaction must be entered into the CRM system. If we implemented a workflow process change that utilized the CRM system for all agent collaboration, we could then create reports to track the peer-to-peer activity of each agent. Agents would be instructed to use the CRM system for messaging with their coworkers and for entering any communication with other agents related to a customer interaction into the notes."

"But not all of the collaborative activities among agents relates to customer incidents," Kevin stated. "They support each other with everything from certification training to morale building. An employee could have limited contributions from a technical perspective but be the most important person on a team because they encourage and motivate others. Managers have had to provide subjective assessments on things like that in the past, so I think that we need to find a way for agents to do the same for their peers."

"We were thinking of a survey for the agents," Russ added. "The challenge is developing the questions so that HR would accept the results."

Peggy nodded in understanding and said, "I'll tell you what, let's table the KPI idea for a few days. I want to do some research to see if there are any other companies that might be using peer reviews as a component of their employee performance measurement. If we can identify others using that approach, it will serve two purposes; first, it will prevent us from having to entirely reinvent the wheel since we could build off what someone else has already done, and second, it will provide us with documented evidence for Bruce and HR that the idea has worked someplace else. That will mitigate most of their perceived risk associated with Armore doing the same."

Russ and Kevin looked at each other and merely nodded their approval of Peggy's suggestion.

~~~

Brent Mize walked back into the bedroom with one towel wrapped around his waist and another draped over his shoulders. He had left the shower running, but upon seeing the activity on the bed, he returned to the bathroom and turned the shower off.

"Are you two going to be going at it all night?" Brent asked.

Evan Foster probably couldn't hear the question. He was laying on his back on the bed with Kelly Proctor's thighs covering each of his ears. Brent couldn't see anything but the top of Evan's head, but from the moans emanating from Kelly as she licked Evan's member, he could assume that Evan's mouth was as busy as Kelly's. Brent shook his head and shuddered at the image in his head. Evan had to be getting mouthfuls of the semen that both men had been depositing into Kelly over the last three hours.

Kelly paused in her activity on the bed to reply to Brent's question, "My husband is out of town and Evan doesn't have a wife to go home to like you, so we thought that we would make a night of it for a change. You're welcome to stay too if you want."

"I would love to," Brent said as he used the towel from around his neck to finish drying his light brown hair, "but I have an early morning flight tomorrow if you remember."

Since her mouth had returned to its previous activities, Kelly just shrugged her shoulders in response. Brent stood in front of the mirror over the dresser and began getting dressed as the two lovers on the bed ignored him. He preferred having Kelly to himself but acknowledged that sharing her with Evan after their meetings here in the corporate condo had always been enjoyable. Screwing each other after reviewing their conspiracy that was effectively screwing Armore just seemed so much more satisfying for all of them.

In their earlier meeting, they had reviewed the precautions that they had taken to keep their embezzlement hidden from the Board of Directors, and in particular, the chairman and CEO, Liam Donahue. Brent would be flying to New Jersey in the morning to formally announce the closing of the New Jersey operations of Armore.

This had become their strategy as soon as they had learned of a pending audit of those operations by the New Jersey Department of Labor. By eliminating all of the New Jersey employees, they would be eliminating the jurisdiction of the agency and prevent the discovery of the falsified personnel and payroll records that had allowed the three to siphon off almost seven million dollars from Armore over the past three years. The falsified records would net them another million and a half through the severance packages that would be paid to non-existent employees.

As a senior vice president and Chief Financial Officer, Brent Mize had found little challenge in manipulating the financial data that would make detection of their conspiracy evident to anyone internal to the corporation. His only concern was if an external resource ever got involved. However, he would likely be involved in making the decision on bringing someone in from the outside so he would have the opportunity to either hide things deeper or execute their contingency plans.

As Vice President of Human Resources, Kelly Proctor was in a position to intercept any employee suspicious of the conspiracy, and she had used that to their advantage on two occasions so far. One purchasing agent and one payroll clerk had each found themselves terminated for cause when allegations of company policy violations were brought against them by other employees. Having a zero-tolerance policy for most violations that protected the identity of the accuser made it easy to cook up claims that the employee could not counter.

Personnel and payroll manipulation were not their only tricks. With Evan Foster as the Director of Operations in New Jersey, they had been able to also falsify supply and service contracts through fictitious vendors or at greatly inflated rates. Brent had considered relocating Evan to California so that they could continue pilfering from the company through that operation, but he could find no justification to replace Bruce Goddard that would be acceptable to Liam Donahue. Instead, Evan got promoted to Vice President of Operations and now had Bruce Goddard grudgingly reporting to him.

Evan had been given the promotion with the understanding that he needed to find some reason to either get Bruce Goddard transferred from the California operation to somewhere else in the organization, terminated for cause, or given an incentive to take early retirement. Until they had someone loyal to them running things in California, the money train that they had been riding with the New Jersey operation was stalled on the tracks.

Evan's other value to the trio was his connections to the underbelly of New Jersey's international population. The contingency plans that they had if their embezzlement was ever discovered included schemes to wrestle control of Armore away from the Donahue family, which might or might not involve coercing the administrator of Margaret Donahue's trust. A trust which controlled the majority stock in Armore. If Liam Donahue didn't have the proxy shares from his daughter's trust, he wouldn't have enough votes to retain control of his company.

Evan had already begun laying the groundwork for just such an eventuality.

Chapter Three

"What do you think of the new bushes?"

Peggy took her hands off the clay flower pot that she had just set onto the baker's rack that she bought to hold plants on her small patio. She turned her head to the right, toward the direction that the voice had come from. Through the lattice divider between their patios, she saw the man who had introduced himself to her as her next-door neighbor. He was stretched out on a mat, doing some kind of exercise or yoga.

"I'm sorry?" Peggy replied in a confused tone.

The man remained in position, doing what Peggy now recognized as a plank while he spoke to her, "The new holly bushes that were planted yesterday outside the railing of all of our patios. How do you like them? Personally, I would have preferred cactus, roses, or something with even more sharp points, but holly works better for the partial sun that the areas get."

Peggy turned and examined the holly bushes for the first time. Until her neighbor had mentioned them, she hadn't even noticed that the bushes had been recently planted in the dirt just beyond the railing of all the patios. The bushes were substantial in size, with little gaps between them that would fill in as the plants grew, and Peggy could see that the tops had been recently trimmed to bring them level with the railings.

Her neighbor rolled over on the mat and began doing sit-ups while continuing the mostly one-sided conversation, "Anyway, those should be a deterrent to some of the patio thefts the complex has experienced recently. Someone would have to be pretty determined to crawl through or over holly bushes."

Peggy considered his comment and said, "I didn't think that crime around here was that bad. I checked the crime statistics before selecting this area and didn't see anything that reflects the thefts you are describing."

Her neighbor didn't respond for several seconds as he was apparently trying to maintain the count of his sit-ups. He eventually paused and asked, "Would you go to the trouble to file a police report if someone steals one or more of your pots? If you do, you'll probably be the first."

Peggy understood where he was going with his question and had to admit that she would likely just write off the loss of a flower pot and not bother with notifying the police. No one reporting the thefts meant that they would not appear in the crime statistics for the area. She saw that he had resumed his sit-ups, so she decided not to ask if there were other unreported crimes occurring around there that she should know about. Instead, she asked, "Did you enjoy the brownies?"

Her neighbor had been on his cell phone the afternoon three weeks ago when she rang his doorbell and presented him with a plate of freshly baked brownies. He had mouthed a "thank you" to her and then pointed to the headset he was wearing to indicate that he was involved in a conversation with someone. Peggy had nodded in understanding before turning and returning to her apartment. She had not seen or heard from him since.

"Oh, man, those were great!" he panted between sit-ups. "I'm sorry that I haven't had a chance to thank you, but I left on a trip the next morning and just returned last night."

"It's not a problem," Peggy said. "I'm just glad that you enjoyed them."

Stepping back into her apartment, Peggy slid the screen door closed but left the sliding glass door open. She stood and listened to the sound of the exercise mat as it shifted slightly on the concrete patio during each sit-up the man performed. He had probably done less than twenty while talking to her, but as she silently began counting the repetitive sounds of the mat, Peggy recognized his target must be somewhere close to one-hundred sit-ups and he was making them seem effortless. He was wearing a t-shirt and gym shorts, but Peggy was imagining washboard abs were beneath the clothing. Though he was probably ten or fifteen years older than her, he appeared to be in excellent physical condition.

Gabe heard her entering her apartment, so he didn't bother with a response. The lattice that separated their patios had obscured most of his ability to see his neighbor while they spoke, but he had been able to determine that she once more had her hair indiscriminately crammed on top of her head and that she was wearing a t-shirt beneath too large bib overalls. The image of her standing at her door in those spectacular shorts and the tight tank top had haunted him for the past three weeks. Realizing that there was a beautiful figure being so seriously disrespected by her choice in clothing disappointed Gabe and distracted him from his count.

Glancing at his cell phone, he decided that he would end his exercise routine for the day a little early. He had to get the charcoal for the barbeques out to the grills by 3 pm, which meant that he should get his shower and head to the store pretty soon. The "Start of Summer" cookout had been a tradition at the apartment complex since he had moved there, and most of the residents had come to expect and appreciate the event. He wished that he had thought to remind his new neighbor about the event. It wouldn't hurt to stop by and do just that on his way to his car.

"Ouch! Damn," Gabe cried to himself as he examined the gash that had appeared on his right hand when he had reached to open his sliding screen door. His hand had discovered the ragged head of a metal screw, or in reality, the sharp edge of a protruding metal screw whose head had broken off. There was a razor-like cut almost an inch long in the soft skin between his right pointer and index fingers, and judging by the amount of blood already present, it was more than simply a scratch.

Cradling his right hand in his left to try and keep blood from dripping onto his floor, Gabe walked quickly to his kitchen sink and ran cold water over his wound. He had to examine the cut while the water was running over it since blood quickly obscured it when the water flow ceased. The slice didn't appear deep enough to require stitches, but it would probably benefit from a butterfly-type bandage to pull the skin together while it healed. A tetanus shot was likely to be recommended as well. Crap, he didn't have time for this today.

"First things first," he thought. Reaching for the paper towel holder, Gabe pulled off a couple of sheets with his left hand and clumsily folded them until he had a thickness that he could work between his fingers to cover the cut. He had never been coordinated with his left hand, so he didn't even consider being able to wrap tape or anything around his right hand to hold the paper towel in place. Grabbing the partial roll of duct tape out of the utility drawer in his kitchen, he headed for his front door.

Finished watering her plants, Peggy was placing the watering can under her kitchen sink when the knock on her front door surprised her. Checking the peephole and recognizing her next-door neighbor, she unhooked the security chain before opening the door.

"I'm sorry to bother you," Gabe apologized. "I'm hoping that you could render a little first-aid assistance to me. I have a cut on my right hand, and I'm right-handed."

The smile on his face was infectious and it made her instantly smile. She looked into his ice-blue eyes and was lost. She suspected that she could look into those eyes for the rest of her life.

Peggy couldn't help but notice how great Gabe looked in a plain cotton tee shirt and gym shorts. His stomach was flat and the muscles in his chest stretched the fabric covering it. His arms were muscular and defined.

Dropping her eyes from his torso, Peggy saw him holding a roll of duct tape in the fingers of his left hand as he held what looked like gauze against a spot on his right hand with his left thumb.

Stepping back, she said, "Come on in. What do you need?"

Gabe entered her apartment and waited to hear the front door close before answering her, "If you could just wrap some of this duct tape around my right hand to hold the paper towel in place, I could drive over to the urgent care on Mission Boulevard. I'm pretty sure that they're open on Saturdays."

Peggy took his right hand in hers and pulled him towards the counter that separated the kitchen from the living room. "Have a seat," she instructed. Once he was seated, she asked, "Do you mind if I take a look?"

Gabe just shrugged his shoulders, so Peggy slowly removed the bloody wad of paper towel and examined the cut. Blood started seeping and running down his hand, so she quickly replaced the paper towel. Without saying anything, she left him sitting at the counter and walked across the living room and through the hall to the bathroom. She returned quickly with a package of gauze and a roll of white medical tape.

"Let's go over to the sink," she said. "I want to rinse it off again before placing a better bandage of sorts on it. How did this happen?"

Following her to her kitchen sink, Gabe explained about the exposed screw.

Running cold water over his hand to wash off the blood once more, Peggy said, "You need to let the complex management know so that they get that screw taken care of."

"You can count on that," Gabe assured her. "This couldn't have happened on a more inconvenient day."

Peggy released Gabe's hand, saying, "Keep it under the water for a second more." She quickly dried her hands and opened the package of gauze. "What makes today more inconvenient than any other day?" she asked while pulling some paper towels off the roll in her kitchen.

"Didn't you get the invitation for the barbeque today?" Gabe asked, lowering his voice once she had turned off the water and began gently drying his hand.

Placing the folded gauze between his fingers, Peggy said, "Hold that in place while I get some tape ready."

Following her instructions, Gabe waited for her reply to his question. When he didn't receive one, he said, "I need to go get the charcoal for the barbeque and get things set up by 3 pm. Spending time at the urgent care won't make it easy for me to get back in time.

Glancing at the time displayed on her microwave while pulling a little tape off the roll, Peggy said, "It's only ten-thirty. Where were you going to get the charcoal that would require so much time?"