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Story Notes:
Thought I'd explore a bit more of Michael Scott's potent but eratic business acumen, and some of his less known relationships with his staff...
Author's Chapter Notes:
He and Karen barely interact. That's about to change.


There were people who despised him. People with power, or at least as much power as one can wield within the context of a floundering, mid-size full service regional paper company. Some of them hated that this clumsy fool had inexplicably managed to tame the most powerful woman in corporate office: the unapproachable beauty who so intimidated them. Others hated the way he cared so much about stupid jokes and magic tricks, while their company crumbled around them. Mostly, though, they all hated that this clueless little man with the childish grin and penchant for unimaginably unprofessional behavior was kicking their ass in the one place that mattered. Scranton was now the most successful branch of Dunder Mifflin. Scranton. And Michael Frikkin Scott was untouchable.

Michael was oblivious to all of this. This ignorance was his greatest asset. "Rising stars" like Josh Porter had spent years overextending themselves, growing their businesses at all costs, making the stagnant, slightly profitable Scranton branch look weak by comparison. Now, change was tearing the paper industry apart. The large discount suppliers were killing off the likes of Dunder Mifflin. Josh Porter had seen the writing on the wall and jumped ship just before his clients started abandoning him in earnest. Branches fell into the red. Employees were laid off in droves. And yet Scranton persisted. It wasn't Michael's grand plan, but it had worked brilliantly. His customer base had proven fiercely loyal. He lost one every now and then, but for the most part clients didn't want to leave. Michael Scott was in the people business, and business was good.

It was 8:30 AM. Michael surveyed his people. They were assembled before him like loyal soldiers... ready to follow their fearless leader into battle.

Sitting closest was Dwight. Loyal. Fearless. Michael had doubted him once, but never again. Although Jim was officially the number two man, Dwight would always be his wing man. He was also the company's top seller, a relentless jackhammer of a salesman who had once held 100 sheets of 40-grain Dunder Mifflin Printer White against his stomach and allowed a potential customer to shoot him with his spud-gun. The potato projectile had ripped right though the paper and knocked Dwight off his feet. He was puking for days. The customer had stopped laughing long enough to sign a huge purchase order, though.

Next to him sat the Jim-bag himself... his old friend. Hooters. Secrets. Parties. Karaoke. Asian Hooters.... Jim. A good salesman, not a great one. A great guy, though. He had been genuinely hurt when Jim had left, and was happy to have him back. Michael caught himself reflecting a little too long and was snapped out of his little mental roll call...

"Ah-Hem..."

It was Karen. Michael stood back and glanced over at her. She was the one person in the room from which he felt any tangible distance. She always seemed so bothered, so rushed. They had gotten off on the wrong foot and never really recovered. How was he supposed to have known that her father had died when she was young, and that he wasn't a G.I? She didn't like him, and it hurt.

"Listen up people... everyone knows their assignments, so lets go move some paper! We're sticking with the schedule -- everyone runs their sales calls solo. Jim is free and will be available as a reinforcement if needed. Ryan, you're in the back on the phones today."

Michael had been making Ryan perform customer service duty to atone for his lack of faith. Also, he really sucked in front of potential clients, and this would help him get more comfortable. It seemed lost on Ryan that any other manager would have tossed his his under-performing butt out on the street a long time ago, but Michael hadn't given up on him, and didn't plan to.

The room burst into movement as everyone began getting up. Michael raised his voice slightly.

"Hold on... One exception. I have moved my meeting with Koselli back a day and will be riding along... "


Michael made a drum roll with his fingers on the table.

"...with Karen."

Karen froze. She was mortified even before he continued.

"You see, Karen's numbers have been down a bit lately and, as her father-figure, I must step in and show her the way..."

He had no idea moments like these were why she couldn't stand him. Jim wanted to reach out and shelter Karen but she was across the table. Michael continued.

"Because a good father is there for his daughter... to teach her about herself, her feelings, her changing bod..."

"Michael!" Jim injected to save his beet-red girlfriend.

"Ah yes, lets go, come on Karen."


***********


He had insisted that he drive. He had instinctively opened her door for her and she looked really uncomfortable. Fortunately he had a ten minute car ride to soothe her nerves. She looked a little worried. Probably some boyfriend stuff or some other girly issue... Some kind words to put her at ease...

"So I hope Jim's doin' OK back at the office without us... probably pretty lonely back there... but don't worry, he's got Pam to keep him from gettin' too lonely until we get back."

She opened her mouth ever so slightly but no words came out. Had his casual empathy left her speechless? Normally being alone in his car with a pretty woman, even one as spoken for as Karen, would have made Michael awkwardly nervous, but three steamy months with Jan had cured him of that. He continued.

"Let's do some team building... why don't you tell me a secret. Wait... I'll start. Jan asked me to tie her up last..."

"Michael please!" She looked scared. He glanced over at her and smiled.

"What... you want to go first?"

"Please just stop." She must be really nervous. Probably about the sales call. Poor thing. He would make it better.

"As you wish..." He paused for effect... she didn't quite get it. "Princess Bride, ever seen it?"

Now she got it. Karen nodded slightly.

"Want a bite of my chunky?" He pulled the chocolate bar out of his pocket and offered her some.



*************

OK so she was a little quiet. It had been a nice ride nonetheless. As they pulled into the client's parking lot, Karen began instinctively briefing Michael.

"OK Michael, this is a large regional bank, potential for 40 to 50K annual run rate. The manager has only given me about 5 minutes, so its likely he's already got his mind on Staples. I'm trying to pull this one out of the fire... stress customer service, quality, you know the dr..."

"SSSSHHHHHHHHHHH." Michael held his finger against her lips. He briefly touched them by accident. She recoiled.

"Blah blah blah." He added, and then switched to his best Chinese accent. "Now follow me, grasshoppa."

**************

The branch manager was an older man. He wore a dark suit and a stern countenance. Michael said nothing, sitting back and listening as Karen worked through her pre-planned talking points like a robot. She was losing him. It was painfully obvious. So he stared. Karen continued, oblivious. Michael continued staring, until the client noticed him.

"Are you OK?"

Michael flinched. "Oh, sorry, I just saw that picture, and I... I..."

"That's my son." the man was humorless. It was hard to laugh at anything with his son over there.

Michael continued. "I kind of figured... It makes it hard to think about paper, though... I just... I think about what our boys are going through and I...I feel humbled. Small."

The client glared at Michael. He was a master at detecting bullshit but there was none to detect.

"Small." he said gently.

Michael paused, then made an offer.

"I'd like to take you our for some beers. Off the record. No business. No paper."

"I'm booked today, but tell you what -- lunchtime tomorrow?"

"Deal." Michael beamed. They exchanged a warm handshake. "Come on Karen, let's go."

*************

She looked unsure of herself, but appeared to be arguing instinctively.

"We could have won that... why didn't you let me finish?"

Michael responded with uncharacteristic force.

"You were dead, Karen, dead in the water." His voice softened a bit. She looked hurt. She also knew he was right. Michael had made a friend today. A friend who would most likely buy paper from him even though the faceless corporation down the street could provide it for cheaper.

She put her lower lip in her mouth and bit it, nodding ever so slightly.

The ride back to Dunder Mifflin was silent. Nothing else needed to be said. Normally this would not stop Michael, but he was silently savoring his breakthrough.

As they were walking through the parking lot to the front door, Karen was walking beside him on his right, a respectful distance away, when her left heel snapped, sending her tumbling. She instinctively grabbed for support, and ended up with a fistful of Michael's jacket, above his shoulder. He reached out and caught her by the ribs, keeping her from falling too far, and gently pulled upwards until she got her feet back under her. It was the briefest of moments. He would have missed it if he wasn't paying attention. Before pulling away and freeing herself from his grasp (he was holding on until he was certain she was steady), Karen leaned her head forward and touched her cheek against his shoulder. She held it there just long enough to show that it wasn't an accident. Not a hug, even, but this was Karen after all. Michael let go of her as soon as she pulled back.

"Thanks, Michael"

It was another great day... another great day in the people business.

 

 

Chapter End Notes:

Domo Arigato, Mr. Scott-O. Feedback always warmly appreciated. Thanks for reading!

 



Night Swept is the author of 16 other stories.



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