The Two Jacks
The Two Jacks
Ever since Rosenberg came on board, Jack hardly recognizes Mattel. Neither does Stevie. There are so many new hires, including a young lawyer with movie star looks. Stevie hasn’t met him yet, but she’s heard all about him. Not since the early days of Jack Ryan has anyone set the women of Mattel’s hearts aflutter quite like Simon Richards.
As for Rosenberg, Jack started having problems with him almost immediately, ever since that sonofabitch took over their weekly staff meetings, which Jack used to run. Plus, Jack thinks Rosenberg is stifling everyone’s creativity, roaming about the office several times a day, checking up on people, making sure they’re doing their jobs. Whenever anyone sees him coming, they quickly end their telephone calls, break up their conversations, put a ceasefire on squirt gun fights and other shenanigans.
“Rosenberg gives me the creeps,” Stevie says to Jack. The two of them are in Jack’s office, reviewing the outfit for a special, limited-edition Twiggy Barbie with short blond hair, oversized blue eyes and spiky eyelashes. “I feel like he’s always staring at my breasts.”
“He probably is.”
Stevie’s on the couch, her heels kicked off. Jack is on his bearskin rug, stretching out his back, groaning.
“Dare I ask how you threw out your back?”
“You don’t want to know.” He groans again, louder this time.
“Jesus, Jack, you sound like you’re having sex.”
“Honey, you better than anyone know that’s not what I sound like when I’m in the throes of passion.”
She laughs, giving him a playful nudge with her foot.
—
The next day, Rosenberg comes into Jack’s office with a man Jack’s never seen before. The guy’s tall, taller than Rosenberg and almost half a foot taller than Jack. He’s square-looking, with an outdated hairstyle, and wears a boring white shirt and skinny dark tie.
“Jack Ryan”—Rosenberg holds out his hand like a presenter—“say hello to Mattel’s other Jack —Jack Barcus.”
After the two shake hands, Rosenberg attempts to clasp them both around their shoulders but can’t reach Barcus with grace, so he ends up slipping one arm about the man’s waist. “My two Jacks,” he says with an uneasy smile. “The future of Mattel’s research and design is in your hands.”
“Excuse me?” Jack looks at Rosenberg first and then at Barcus, who eyes him sharply.
“We’re starting up a second design group,” says Rosenberg. “So now we’ll have two design teams, the Ryan Group and the Barcus Group.”
Mr.Square has suddenly gone from being a dweeby schlub to being a contender. This is going to be an outright competition.
—
“Barcus?” Jack corners Ruth and Elliot, finding them both in Elliot’s office. “Who the hell is this Barcus guy?”
“Come in, Jack.” Elliot rises from his desk, an apologetic look on his face. “I’m afraid Rosenberg jumped the gun on things.”
“We wanted to tell you first,” says Ruth.
“Tell me what ? That you’re bringing in another engineering group?”
“We have to,” says Elliot. His expression is one of bewilderment, as if there’s no other choice. “The company is growing. Think of it as a good thing.”
“How in the hell is this a good thing? What kind of message does this send to my entire team?”
“Your department isn’t the only one that’s being restructured,” says Ruth, unable to look at him, focusing instead on Elliot’s lava lamp. “We have to bring on more manpower,” she adds, staring at the red globules oozing about.
“And you didn’t think this was worthy of a conversation first? Ruth, I know things haven’t been exactly great between us lately, but I thought we were in this together. I helped grow this company and this is the thanks I get?” He senses the pressure building up behind his eyes and— Jesus Christ —he feels like he’s about to cry. No, fuck no, he can’t. He won’t give them the satisfaction of seeing him break. He has to get the hell out of there. Shaking his head, he walks out, slamming the door behind him.
Ruth looks up at Elliot, who reaches for the Maalox in his top drawer, unscrews the cap and takes a swig straight from the bottle. “Why the hell did Rosenberg go ahead and introduce Jack to Barcus?” he says. “That wasn’t what we agreed to. He loused this whole thing up. I can’t blame Jack for being upset.”
Ruth feels a dull headache forming across the back of her skull and all she can think is: What have we set in motion?