But can Frank trust Sid? This is a question that will be explored in future chapters of THE EAVESDROPPER. Until the book comes out, catch all of the action over at my YouTube channel.
I was finally getting back to work when I felt a hand clap my shoulder. My first thought was Donnie. (He had still not returned from whatever excursion he had gone on after our sort-of confrontation in the men's room.)
I turned around, looked up, and saw Sid Harper instead.
As I've said, Sid was the manager over our group. (Sid, in fact, was one of the senior managers in the entire purchasing department.)
Somewhere back in the last century, there developed a stereotype of what the corporate senior manager should be. I can say without exaggerating too much that Sid Harper fit this description.
In his late forties or early fifties, Sid Harper was tall and broad shouldered, with the trim build of an ex-athlete. Most women, including women decades younger than him, would have described him as handsome. He had that perfect square chin of the classical heroic figure. There were small traces of gray around the sideburns of his black hair, which had not yet begun to thin.
Now, if you think that I was jealous of Sid Harper, you'd be wrong. Yes, I was indeed in awe of him, to a certain degree. But more than that, I was immensely grateful for what he had done for me. Sid had taken an interest in me early on, perhaps recognizing that I was determined to make the most of my job at Thomas-Smithfield. He had encouraged me and helped me along where he could.
And, of course, Sid had been responsible for my recent grade promotion—the promotion that had driven Donnie and Bethany so batty with jealousy.
“Got a few minutes to talk?” he asked me. “I’d like to go over the McDonnell bid. If you can spare the time, that is.”