Page 1 of Conflict Mediation
Chapter One
JAMES
For the seventeenth minute in a row, James struggled desperately not to squirm on his thinly padded chair. He tried to distract himself by reading the titles of the pamphlets strewn across the coffee table. However, almost as soon as his shoulders would start to relax, a huff or a throat clearing would have them shooting right back up to his ears.
The object of his discomfort was sitting, legs spread wide, taking up way more space than necessary, on an equally unimpressive-looking chair across the room. Leon Rabinowicz, in all of his tattooed, pierced, and grouchy glory was the bane of James’ existence.
Today was no exception.
No, in fact, today was the absolute pinnacle of frustration, because Leon was the reason they were here, sitting in a dimly lit waiting room on a perfectly lovely evening.
Well, it was March, so there wasn’t anything particularly lovely about the evening. In fact, as of an hour earlier when James had been driving to this hellacious purgatory, the streets had been icy and the highway was backed up somewhere into next week. Still, James would have preferred to be in his cozySubaru, sitting in traffic for the next several hours, instead of sitting here awaiting his fate.
As if sensing his discomfort, Leon sank lower in his chair, manspreading until he took up almost three chairs. Thankfully there was no one else in the waiting room. James didn’t have to be embarrassed on Leon’s behalf, unlike in the office, where every time Leon slunk through James’ department, he felt the need to follow after him and apologize to his team for Leon’s shitty attitude.
A floorboard creaked and James whipped his head around to look at the peeling office door. When it remained closed, he sank down in his own seat.
“Eager as always, like a good littlemensch,” Leon muttered, and James felt his shoulders practically touch his hairline.
James had grown up on the predominantly Yiddish and Polish side of town, so he’d heard words like that thrown around in casual conversation his whole life. He’d always thought amenschwas a good thing, but the way Leon said it about James, he’d begun to think of it as a dirty word.
“I just want this to be over,” James grumbled, anxiously crossing his legs and then uncrossing them.
His suit was already wrinkled from all his slumping. James glanced at Leon’s ripped jeans and felt a sharp stab of jealousy. It must be so easy for him, the office bad boy, the quintessential IT guy that didn’t give a damn about anyone or anything except himself.
James on the other hand had recently been promoted to team lead for a group of overly ambitious Gen Z’ers. They were all filled with chaotic energy, like little minions, ready to dive into the world of financing–or burn down the company trying. Truth be told, most of the time James was just trying to keep up with their antics, but on principle, he tried to set a good example for them with how he dressed and conducted himself.
James could barely even remember being that young. Over a decade ago, he too had graduated from college with a shiny new econ degree and big dreams of moving to New York to work on Wall Street. He’d had it all planned out. He’d rent a modest but efficient apartment, live on his salary with a bit left for savings, and maybe make his dad proud for the first time in his life.
Then his mom had gotten sick, and his whole world had shrunk to the size of the commute it took from his parent's house in the suburbs to his office downtown. He hadn’t had time to apply to one of the bigger firms, he’d just taken the first job that had come his way. Little did he know, some of the smaller firms worked their employees like they were getting paid the big bucks but only paid them half of what other firms did, and close to a quarter of what James had been looking at in New York.
“These things are never quick,” Leon said, absently spinning one of the rings he was wearing. James had always wanted to wear rings, but his dad had said it made men look… well, like assholes. Like Leon.
“You've been in a lot of conflict mediation, then?” James asked, barely able to keep the venom out of his voice. He knew that his attitude, combined with Leon’s, was the reason they were in this mess to begin with, but he couldn’t help letting just a bit of his animosity show.
“A lot of people have had problems with me over the years,” Leon said in a bored tone.
“Yeah, well, I’ve never had a problem with anyone before. How about we just get through this nice and easy, so we don’t get in any more trouble.”
Leon snorted and finally lifted his eyes to glare at James. “Are you seriously a grown-ass adult who just said ‘get in trouble’? What are they going to do, put you in time out?”
James bristled and didn’t even try to modulate his tone this time. “No, but we could get fired.”
Kevin, the head of HR and a frazzled man who always seemed to be sweating, had sent both James and Leon an email two weeks before, recommending that they attend a conflict mediation session on site. It seemed that the numerous complaints James had lodged about delayed IT requests hadn’t gone unnoticed.
Unfortunately, the initial date recommended for the session had conflicted with one of his mom’s appointments. He’d requested a different date, which Leon had contested, and they had gone back and forth trying to pick a new date.
After a series of increasingly flustered emails from Kevin, they had been informed that the company could not accommodate their “challenges” and that they should report to an off site location for mediation.
Kevin had sent them the time, but not the address, and James had been forced to track the mediator down, only to find out it was on the complete opposite side of town from their office. There had been a brief moment where he had considered just not showing up. Kevin’s reddened face kept popping into his nightmares though, so he dragged himself across town in the middle of rush hour. He refused to get fired after that.
“Oh well, then we get fired,” Leon shot back with an infuriatingly nonchalant shrug. “You’ll find a new job, probably one that mommy and daddy dearest will help you get, just like all the other schmucks at our job, and all will be right in your world. I can’t say the same for me, but I’ve never let that stop me from standing up to?—”
Leon didn’t get to finish his sentence, because the door opened and a petite, exhausted looking brunette stepped out.
“You must be my 5pm. I’m Katherine, she/her pronouns. I’m glad you’re getting yourselves nice and warmed up to talk. It’s the quiet ones that are the worst,” she said, with a sardonic smile.
Before either man could respond, she turned on her heel and disappeared back into the office.
