Calm Harbour

Chapter Two

         “Sarah! Did you get the information package copied like I asked?” Said a booming voice coming from the corner office.





         “Yes sir, I am just waiting to get them back from Dallas from the copy room.” Sarah replied, careful not to agitate the executive further.


         “Those need to be sent out by 3:30 and it is now 2:50!” he yelled again.


         “Yes sir, I will phone Dallas right away.” She carefully closed the door to her obnoxious boss’ office and sulked back to her desk which was adjacent to his. Sarah was young, smart and full of ambition. Too bad she landed this crappy job, which she thought would be her dream job. Turns out making coffee and shredding papers for her wretched boss Mr. Thatcher, whom she referred to as Lord Snatcher behind his back wasn’t really what she hoped for. She served her time in university to obtain her Bachelors degree in economics and shortly after completing her degree, she spent six months travelling all over Canada before applying at Thatcher Barnes Development Ltd. If only the woman in human resources warned her about Lord Snatcher when she hired her. She probably would have turned down the job.


         Sarah picked up the phone and dialed the copy room extension. “Hey Dallas, it’s Sarah.”


         “Hey Sarah, how are ya?” He replied in a pleasant, yet almost monochromatic tone.


         “Well, I’m doing good, but I’ll be doing a lot better once I get those packages from you. Are you able to bring them to my desk?” She looked at the clock. 3:05.


         “Oh yeah, of course. I’m just doing up the last one now. I’ll have them to you in about 10 minutes.”


         “Those packages have to get out by 3:30 Dallas, and I can’t afford for Lord Snatcher to yell at me for something else I didn’t do again.”


         “OK, I’ll kick up the pace. You’ll have them in five.”


         She hung up the phone. She could hear Lord Snatcher screaming through his big maple doors. She didn’t know who he was screaming at, but she could hear random sentences that didn’t make any sense at all. She got up from her desk and quietly made her way to the over sized and heavy maple doors. She pressed her ear to the crack in between the two doors.


         “I told you that the Harbour Project was my number one priority Bob!” He yelled into the phone. “Yeah, I know who owns that land, but do I look like I give a shit?”


         The Harbour Project? Sarah thought to herself. I didn’t even hear about that one. Must be a new development.


         “Well you make sure that your people know who they are dealing with because if they won’t fold, I’ll make sure to send my people out there, and they aren’t afraid to pull the weight for me.”


         That sounded like a threat. Sarah thought. Who is Bob?


         “Sarah, what are you doing?” Came a voice behind her.


         Startled, she turned around to see Dallas holding her information packages. She tried to figure out the right words to say to this little intern. “Oh, umm, nothing Dallas.” She brushed a piece of her brown hair from her face and grabbed the packages from his arms. She set them on her desk and sat in her chair.


         “Are you spying on Mr. Thatcher?” He asked. He has his arms crossed on his chest. She briefly stared at him for a moment before answering him. He was a young kid. Around 21, or 22. Short blond hair, and even though he was wearing long sleeves, she could see some sort of ink work on his forearms and wrists. If he weren’t four years younger than her, she may even have thought he was attractive.


         “No, I was just waiting for him to get off the phone so I can tell him the packages will be out in time.” Sarah said.


         “Uh huh.” He rolled his eyes and turned around to walk away.


         “Hey Dallas,” Sarah said, “have you heard of anything called the Harbour Project?”


         Dallas turned around. “Nope. Is that why you were spying?”


         “I wasn’t spying!” She defended. “I just heard something about it, but usually I am the first to know about Mr. Thatcher’s new deals, and I haven’t heard anything from him yet.”


         “Well, you know how this company works Sarah. Don’t pry into things that don’t concern you.” He walked away from her.


         Sarah sat at her desk, thinking. That was really weird, she thought. Since when does Dallas start defending Lord Snatcher?


         She finally got up and put the packages in a large box, taped it shut and put a packing slip on it. The courier company would be here any minute to pick it up.


         She decided that she would take a short break and go down to the cafeteria and grab a latte and a snack. She could feel herself getting woozy. She headed towards the elevator. She let Rachel, the office manager know that a courier would be here to pick up the package and headed down the elevator.








* * *





         It was the end of the day and Mr. Thatcher had just finished a conference call with the Bradford Corporation executive Mr. Alan Bradford. The Bradford Corporation was a multi-divisional company located out of Calgary, Alberta. It produced many products, from hand soap and baby food, to petroleum products and even had a small, un-known division in property development. Mr. Bradford was the second son of the company mogul Mr. Wilson Bradford II. Since the demise of Mr. Bradford Senior, Alan Bradford and his older brother Wilson Bradford have since taken over the company. But it was after the death of their father that prompted them to open the development division. They had their hands in many deals in places such as Calgary, Vancouver, Toronto, Seattle, and even over seas. Their most recent deal was with a smaller company out of Vancouver. Thatcher Barnes Ltd. They were collaborating together to try and get their hands on a piece of land in a small town that not too many people had heard of.


         After getting off the phone with Mr. Bradford, Mr. Thatcher wiped the sweat off of his forehead and got up and put on his coat. He walked out of his office and gave a small nod to Sarah, who was just getting ready to leave as well. He was never one for small talk with his staff, and paid little attention to them unless they weren’t doing their job.


         Sarah has just finished her end of day filing and was headed for home too. She couldn’t wait to get out of there. But before she left, she wanted to take a peak in Mr. Thatcher’s office. She knew damn well that if he found out she had been in there, she would lose her job. But something told Sarah that this “Harbour Project” just didn’t sound right. She couldn’t shake this feeling that something was fishy about it. Why hadn’t she heard of it? Why did he threaten that “Bob” guy? Maybe there would be something in his office to give her a clue.


         After watching Mr. Thatcher leave the building and get into his BMW sportster, Sarah quietly opened the large heavy doors and entered the overly large office. It had huge floor to ceiling windows overlooking Stanley Park. It was tastefully decorated and had several exotic sculptures and artwork. His desk was also quite large, taking up most of the middle of the room. He had taken his laptop home with him, but there were a few papers on his desk. It wasn’t cluttered or messy by any means. Mr. Thatcher was very organized. She walked up to the desk and feathered through the papers. Nothing about any “Harbour Project”. Only smaller deals that she had already heard about. She tried the desk drawers. They were locked. No sign of any keys either. She walked around the room and browsed through his extensive library which took up the entire back wall. She had no idea the amount of books it appears that he read. And quite the collection too. There were lots on philosophy and lots on business philanthropy.


         She heard a noise outside the office. She heard footsteps coming towards Mr. Thatcher’s office. She quickly took cover behind an over sized, modern leather arm chair near the window. It was big enough to conceal her, but should he come looking for her, he would probably find her.


         Mr. Thatcher opened the door to the office and briskly walked in. He walked over to his desk and searched his overcoat for something. He pulled out a set of keys and using the smallest one, opened the left hand desk drawer. Sarah could just barely see through the small gab between the wall and the chair. She noticed him pull a large brown envelope from the desk and slide it into his briefcase. She couldn’t get a clear enough view to see if anything was written on it, but it looked like it was stuffed full. He glanced around the room. Sarah crouched lower behind the chair. What was I thinking? She thought. I could lose my job for this! Mr. Thatcher grabbed his briefcase and made his way over to the huge floor to ceiling windows. Sarah felt like as if death was about to find her and she would spend an eternity with bad job references. He approached the window and looked out. Then, he pulled a handkerchief from his jacket pocket and polished a smudge on the window. He returned the handkerchief to his jacket, and turned around to leave. Sarah exhaled. Then he left. Sarah sat there for a moment, making sure he was out of clear view when she would walk out of his office. After what seemed like hours, she quickly got out of the office, grabbed her jacket and purse and headed to the busy after work rush-hour of pedestrians to the nearest bus stop.