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17. Brittani Stone
- University of Wisconsin Press
- Chapter
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Brittani Stone got the news late Friday afternoon when she checked her e-mail before leaving her Oshkosh office: Congratulations, Brittani.You have been promoted to office manager for our new outreach office in Willow River, Wisconsin.You will be working with Ben Wesley, whom we recently employed as Research Application Specialist to work out of this new office. You will have complete responsibility for all office operations, keeping detailed records, filing weekly reports with the main office in Oshkosh, and, most importantly, scheduling Mr. Wesley’s time, keeping a record of his billable hours, and sending appropriate invoices to the clients with whom Mr. Wesley has contact. We know you will do a great job, as you have in your previous assignments. Once again, congratulations. Sara Phillips, PhD Director of Field Operations Ira Osborne University Brittani, who had just reached thirty, had let everyone with any authority at Osborne University know that she was ready for a new challenge. She 68 Brittani Stone 17 69 Brittani Stone was tall and thin—willowy, some might say. Her black hair, which she wore in a ponytail, contrasted well with her olive complexion. Her dark eyes flashed when she read the e-mail a second time. Office manager for an outreach office in Podunkville? What kind of promotion was that? And to work with some guy doing farm stuff. What did she know about farming? Nothing. What did she care about farming? Nothing. First thing Monday morning she must talk with Dr. Phillips about this so-called promotion and see if she could refuse it with the hope that something more exciting and prestigious might come along soon. She spent the weekend in Milwaukee, visiting with friends, doing a little partying, and thinking about what she might say to Dr. Sara Phillips, whom Brittani thought was a jerk and was in way over her head. Phillips liked to be called “doctor.” What kind of doctor was she? Just another PhD. And in what specialty? Educational administration. For God’s sake, what kind of doctorate was that? Brittani had met several other PhD’s at Osborne University. They had degrees in biology, genetics, horticulture, subjects that made a difference. What could she say to high and mighty Dr. Phillips? She’d come up with something; Brittani always did. First thing Monday morning, Brittani appeared at Dr. Sara Phillips’s office. “Brittani, so good to see you. And congratulations on your promotion. The other officials here at Osborne met last week and we were unanimous. You’ll make a great office manager.” “But in Willow River?” Brittani sputtered. “In tiny little Willow River, Wisconsin, that doesn’t have three thousand people?” “Britt, I remember our talk a few months ago, and how you said you were up to a new challenge. You make this satellite office work and you’ll be on your way—surely a candidate for one of our top spots here at Osborne University.” She looked coldly at Brittani, with little patience for her protest. “But . . . but,” Brittani stammered. “No buts, Brittani. This is one great opportunity. No question about it. Oh, did I mention we are planning a 20 percent bump in your salary? [44.192.129.85] Project MUSE (2024-03-29 13:54 GMT) You’ll also get a percentage of Ben Wesley’s billed-hour income. And we’ll pay for your commuting costs from here to Willow River for a month, to give you a chance to find suitable housing in Ames County.” Sara Phillips stood up from behind her desk, extended her hand, and shook Brittani’s. “Once more, congratulations, Britt. We’ll be in touch.” The words were without emotion. Brittani got up and left the office, not exactly sure what had just happened, except that she was getting a raise. So this new spot in Willow River must really be a promotion. On Wednesday, the first of July, Brittani Stone drove her convertible Ford Mustang down Highway 21, through Omro, through Redgranite, and then into Willow River. When she arrived in town, she looked for the Willow River Plaza, where her new office was located. The first time she missed the sign and before you could say “only one street light in town,” she was in farm country again. At the first farm drive, she drove in, backed up, and once more drove down Main Street. The place was worse than she imagined. A...