Unbeatable: The Legend of Vincent Scott – Chapter 12: The End of the Road
It was another strong finish for Vincent’s team in November 2009.
The first week of December 2009 arrived with frost in the air and fatigue in Vincent Scott’s soul. But true to form, Vincent sought solutions over sulking. He crafted a detailed, elegant plan to resolve the long-standing issues plaguing the department—clerical errors, commission miscalculations, and contract confusion. His email memo to the management team introduced a simple yet effective contract tracking system. Each stage of the contract—from inception to execution—would be monitored and updated in real-time, relieving the burden from any one person while promoting visibility and accuracy.
Managers flooded his inbox with praise. They loved the proposal. But Scott Kinsey—the very embodiment of bureaucratic sabotage—responded to the email thread with one red-letter word: STOP. He declared there was a vague plan coming in 2010 and all discussions must wait. Progress, it seemed, would have to wait too. He was clearly not interested in taking any semblance of a plan that Vincent and the managers wanted that could be implemented immediately. He did not want to fix the problems.
Vincent wasn’t surprised. Kinsey guarded his systems like they were ancient relics of infallible wisdom, even when those systems were crumbling. And while the department had achieved a 124% finish for November, December was predictably sluggish, capped by a company-wide holiday closure the final week. Vincent doubled down, shifting to warm leads and carrying the weight of the department on his back as so many tuned out for year-end.
He was limping, emotionally and physically, toward the finish line of a grueling year. The betrayal, backstabbing, and bungling from leadership had left him drained. He vowed silently: this would be the last full year he subjected himself to such dysfunction.
It was Friday, December 4, 2009 when, with zero fanfare, Keith Dickhauser called Vincent Scott to reveal the investigation was over and he “got a slap on the hand.”
He conceded that they used tough wording and gave him a warning of some sort, but he was staying in power. The Brotherhood had failed. HR had not carried through on their promise.
Dickhauser had apparently been told to manage Vincent and Mark rather than the managers, which just meant he was declawed from their vantage point but Vincent was going to have to put up with him just as much if not more. Lovely.
“There are enemies among us,” Dickhauser said again. “I want to get the rats.”
Over the weeks to come, Keith referenced the warning multiple times daily as he constantly speculated as to who was behind it. Rather than take it seriously that his entire management team thought he was a vengeful dictator, he never took it to heart; he just sounded like he wanted revenge. He had been made fully aware that practically everyone interviewed had said nothing but damning things about him and his horrific leadership style. Instead of inspiring him to turn over a new leaf it was clear Dickhauser was on a personal vendetta to uncover a culprit.
Amidst a power struggle with his own boss, Keith’s boss César left the company and was replaced in December by Gerald Murphy. Gerald visited the office mid-month, meaning Vincent had to put on his well-rehearsed routine, and the new boss seemed impressive and serious about the task. As usual, he was impressed with Vincent and asked Keith about his mobility and if he would be available to take over a struggling office in Atlanta.
Vincent and Autumn had lunch together occasionally as they were in the same office building again and it led to gradually more time together after hours as a family.
However, Vincent was upset when he learned she was also still dating a guy in her apartment complex named Chris she claimed was her ex.
They exchanged a series of emotionally charged text messages—a culmination of years of unresolved tension. It was raw, personal, and regrettable. What Vincent didn’t realize was that Autum spoke about their argument at work. Danny Boyd overheard. Sensing an opportunity to act as Keith’s loyal errand boy, Danny told Keith and HR about them and they forced Autum into turning over the messages to HR.
The vacation week from Christmas to New Year’s in years past had been enough for Vincent to recharge his batteries, but this year it was not; another clear indication it was time to go.
His first day back in the office was slow-starting; Vincent had compiled a 3-page plan for Keith, Mark and himself to peruse to get the year off to a successful start and proposed many changes in the floundering inbound unit. They met for lunch to discuss but Keith’s ability to stay focused on the plan was nonexistent; he kept getting caught up on minor points that amounted to nothing and it was clear this was a hopeless cause.
Regardless, summoning strength he did not know he had from within, Vincent came back on Day 2 energized; he arrived at 6, ran several reports, put together his agenda for the manager meeting and office stand-up and both gatherings ended up blowing away their respective rooms.
By end of day, however, Keith had once again managed to derail the Vincent Scott express, calling for a 2009 revenue audit that would wipe out any and all missing contracts from the revenue and manager bonus totals for the previous year.
Considering Kinsey’s and Danny’s clerical team was 700 contracts behind in production (nearly three weeks’ worth) and their missing contracts report indicated another 700 missing contracts (of which, historical data dictated probably 70-80% were already in), this sent the reps and managers into an uproar and tailspin that even Vincent could not contain.
This revenue audit consumed nearly every working day of January and about every last ounce of the patience of the entire organization. Dickhauser’s incompetence was going to cost hundreds of people their jobs when this department came crashing down over the horrifically fractured processes.
Vincent’s cries fell on deaf ears. He sent memo after memo to Keith explaining just how wrong this audit was on so many levels, how frustrated everyone was with these processes that had not been fixed in four years, and he offered solutions and to fix the problems himself.
Vincent likened this to the doomed Titanic headed for certain peril against an iceberg; however, Vincent had the foresight to see the iceberg and warn the captain but those warnings were never heeded.
On Wednesday, the first week of January 2010, Vincent—home with a sick Elizabeth—received an unexpected call from Lydia Rawlings. On the line in attendance: Keith Dickhauser.
“Vincent, recently a situation has come to my attention where you sent some text messages while on break to Autum Westwood. The text messages contained vulgar language. Do you know anything about that?” Lydia asked.
What in the world is this about? Vincent thought.
“Absolutely, Lydia, as you know she and I have an extensive history and she is the mother of my daughter. We had a fresh recent misunderstanding, and got into a heated discussion about it. It’s a personal matter.”
“Yeah, you know, I should have had the foresight to think her reporting to you was a bad idea,” Keith Dickhauser chimed in.
“Actually, all reporting in our department is ceremonial,” Vincent corrected him. “Keith made that clear last year when he changed the bonus structure. She and I are not even in the same quadrant of the building and have no contact, nor would we under any disciplinary circumstances. Not only that, but this is a personal matter and has literally zero to do with the company.”
“Be that as it may,” Lydia continued, “she is a fellow co-worker and you are a manager in the company. These text messages were brought to my attention by Danny Boyd and it is my responsibility to investigate.”
Brought to her by Danny Boyd? What is going on here?
“Lydia, I can assure you, I take my responsibility to ABM very seriously,” Vincent began, thinking quickly on his feet. “In no way did I abuse my power as a manager, threaten her job or her in any way, shape or form and this is a domestic issue. And if you have the messages, you know it wasn’t one-sided. Now, I don’t know what on earth is going on here, but this has nothing to do with my unblemished record in my 8 1/2-year career with ABM.”
“Vincent, I understand where you are coming from. I have to report back to our Legal team, but I will go to them with that stance; you probably had no idea you were even doing anything that could be brought into the company, did you?” Lydia inquired, softening her tone substantially.
“Absolutely not. I have been on my best behavior since our conversations about the anonymous attacks and I take my commitment to ABM very seriously,” Vincent repeated.
“I understand. Actually, I have been through very similar situations with my daughter and with her estranged husband,” Lydia said, now sounding motherly in tone. “I know these situations are difficult. Just always remember, you have a beautiful baby girl and she is the number one priority. I will contact Legal with the stance you two were simply having a domestic dispute and will get back with Keith if we need to discuss this further.”
“Sounds great, Lydia, thank you.”
“Keith, do you have any other questions?” she inquired.
“No,” he answered flatly.
“Okay, thank you both for your time,” Lydia concluded. Keith stayed on the line.
“Wow, why would Autumn throw you under the bus like that?” he inquired.
“This is the first I’ve heard of this.”
“Well, don’t talk to her about this. I will talk to Lydia and see where we go from here.”
“Okay,” Vincent responded, still formulating the thoughts in his head.
The next morning, Vincent knew how to proceed and went to Keith’s office directly following his morning meetings. He rapped on the door frame with his knuckle.
“You got a minute?” Vincent asked.
Keith looked up, startled, as Vincent rarely came to him for anything. “Sure,” he replied. Vincent came in, closed the door and sat down.
“Why did Danny take those text messages to Lydia?” Vincent asked, as serious as he had ever been.
“Well, uh, I don’t know,” Keith responded, turning beet red and stammering. “I, uh, had a conversation with him about it and asked him why he did that because I didn’t appreciate it. But don’t go talking to him about it because I don’t need two of my top guys fighting.”
“Uh huh,” Vincent said, processing the information. “So did you hear anything back from Lydia?”
“No, just that Lydia called me afterwards and said she had your back,” Keith said.
“Good. Whatever this nonsense is, make it go away,” Vincent said. “This is preposterous and I am tired of being under fire for nothing on a monthly basis.”
“How do you think I feel?” Keith retorted in his patented way of making everything about him. “I have to constantly come to your defense.”
Vincent half-laughed. “Come to my defense? Whatever is going on here is just more nonsense and you know it. Besides, even if that were true, I’m well worth any defense you may have ever done on my behalf. Make this go away.”
“I don’t want you talking to anybody about this,” Keith advised. “Let me handle it from here.”
“As you wish,” Vincent said. “You find out how to make it go away.”
Okay, good to have this settled, Vincent thought. For crying out loud, now he was being run through the mud for personal, off the clock, non-threatening and non-company related text messages to his ex-fiancé and daughter’s mother? Wonders never ceased in this place.
Vincent tried to re-focus on business but with the entire workforce up in arms about the contracts and commission fiasco and the one man who had to deal with it not willing to budge, he had to finally embrace the fact that his time in this department was over.
The breakfast and lunch conversations shifted to all of the managers in attendance talking about finding their next big project together or having a mass exodus. There was no shame in leaving a sinking ship, they reasoned. What was even more odd is that Vincent started to get even brasher in his dissenting opinions to Keith, Danny and Kinsey on the impending collapse they were leading the department into but they only went ignored.
Mark Rogers even found a huge sale of $2,000 per month in advertising that was marked as missing and was seconds away from being removed from 2009 numbers until he went to the clerk’s desk personally and found it buried under a stack of papers – it just had not been marked off yet. Had he not found that contract, the sale would have been removed from everyone’s results, commission would not have been paid to the rep, costing them over $3,600, and the customer may or may not have ever gotten their advertising. This was just the biggest of hundreds of such mistakes and no one would do anything about it.
Vincent did something he had never done: applied for jobs that were not promotions in an attempt to leave. Keith’s reaction when he found out?
“What’s your problem?” he barked over the phone, calling Vincent’s work line.
“My problem?” Vincent responded. “What do you mean?”
“You’ve never hit on lateral transfers before,” Keith responded.
“Just looking for a new challenge. I’ve fulfilled my time in title and it’s my right to look,” he answered coldly.
The following Monday, Vincent got a call from an executive director in the business-to-business sect of the telecommunications portion of ABM, Vincent’s former home. The fellow’s name was Cameron Cole, the position paid $15,000 more per year than Vincent’s current post and they set up an interview for that coming Friday. Vincent breathed a sigh of relief; once again he was seemingly at a dead end and from nowhere an outstretched branch appeared to potentially save him. Vincent knew he would be sad to leave some of the people he worked so hard for and with, but he knew this was the right step and the right path.
He sent Keith an e-mail with the job information and description attached, asking if a Friday interview would pose any problem and Keith simply responded with a one word answer: “No.”
Thanks for wishing me luck and have a great day to you, too, you jerk.
The drive that had carried him this far, the passion for making this department incredible and that will to win whatever the cost was gone. Keith Dickhauser’s complete and utter disregard for him, his ideas, his hard work and the disrespect and lack of support he had shown Vincent for nearly four years had finally vanquished his spirit. It was time to move on and he was not going to lift another finger to go outside of his basic job functions to help Keith be successful.
Mark was in Greenfield three days per week and Vincent began to let him handle all office stand-up’s. Vincent started arriving every morning at 8:30, canceled the morning manager meetings and stopped monitoring calls with managers unless they specifically requested it. Vincent stopped sending out reports, sent literally no e-mails except for the daily schedule (which no longer was accompanied by anecdotes and scripts and achievers from the day prior) and made it abundantly clear with his actions he was playing under protest and he was finished.
He still coached the people that wanted it, had passionate development meetings with those who were serious about being successful, but he was not going to kill himself another day for the undeserving and unappreciative dictator that was destroying what he had spent four years building.
Mid-week, Keith pulled Vincent into his office and it was one of the meetings where he told Vincent to close the door. Vincent sat.
“What the f— is your problem?” he blasted, attacking right off the bat.
Vincent acted aloof. “What do you mean?”
“Are you going to pull your head out of your #@!$% today and do your job?” the clearly frustrated Dickhauser boomed.
“Tell me one component of my job I have not done,” Vincent responded calmly.
“Well, uh, you, uh, you’re just not acting like yourself. You haven’t been sending out e-mails…”
“That’s not a mandatory part of my job.”
“You haven’t been getting here…uh…” Dickhauser trailed off and stopped himself.
“Oh, that’s what this is about,” Vincent laughed. “That I’m not getting here at 6 AM every morning and breaking my back just so my opinions and advice can be ignored? You’re right, I’m not.”
Keith looked shocked and horrified all in one.
“I will do my job and I defy you to find something I’m not doing that is in my job description. But I am not going to kill myself for this place another day,” Vincent said defiantly. “Period.”
“Well, I also understand you have not been doing stand-ups in the morning. Mark is downtown tomorrow and I want you to have one to award the incentives,” Dickhauser backpedaled.
“Done. Anything else?” Vincent asked, standing to leave.
“No,” came the defeated reply.
Vincent was more proud of that Thursday stand-up than most all of his others of years past. He read the names of the contest winners and allowed the office to applaud, rather than bringing them down front and center, joking with them and praising them in front of the team as had become his trademark. Then, he folded the piece of paper, put it in his pocket and said merely, “Guys, like my T-ball coach once told me, play hard and have fun out there.” And he walked off to stunned silence.
Jackson Taber, one of the top reps, standing front and center and who had also been privy to a lot of Vincent’s recent woes, said merely, “Brilliant.”
Not long after, Keith came into Vincent’s office and Vincent was sure it was to destroy him over the farce of a stand-up. He closed the door and sat down.
“Vincent, you can’t go to the interview tomorrow,” Keith said, fidgeting nervously.
“Excuse me?”
“Well, this investigation over those text messages to Autumn is still ongoing. Lydia called me and said you can’t go on the interview tomorrow.”
That revelation struck Vincent like a ton of bricks. He was in utter disbelief.
“This is unacceptable. Let’s get her on the phone,” Vincent said.
“What?” Keith said, reacting with shock to Vincent’s request. “No, I, uh, have a call in to her.”
“Keith, is going on here?” Vincent asked. “I want to talk to Lydia immediately.”
“No, I am handling this.”
“No, you’re clearly not handling this. This is my livelihood. I’ve earned the right to interview for this role and have given 8 1/2 years of my blood, sweat and tears to this company. I haven’t heard squat about this issue in weeks – I thought it was dead. What are they going to do over a personal matter that has nothing to do with the company? This is ridiculous!”
“I will call Lydia back and see if we can meet on this to clear it up. Just call the guy and tell him you can interview next week.”
“Next week, huh,” Vincent said, his mind racing to try to figure out what was going on. “Please call Lydia. I want to talk to her today.”
“I will do what I can,” Keith said before departure. “Did you finish covering all of your appraisals?”
“I have a few left.”
“I need them done today.”
“How am I supposed to have positive meetings with these guys when you can’t even tell me what in the world is going on here?” Vincent fired back, frustrated and angry.
“Let me try to call Lydia again. I will keep you posted,” Keith responded.
Something was missing here. Why was Keith being so secretive? Vincent had not heard anything about those texts in three weeks – how could they resurface now?
After lunch, Vincent went to Keith’s office, shut the door and sat down.
“Did you talk to Lydia?”
“I have a call in to her.”
“Can we call her right now?”
“No, I am going to wait for her to call me back,” Keith answered coldly.
“So you can’t just try to call her while I’m in here?”
“No, I’m going to wait.”
“Keith, this is my entire life. This is my career. This is how I support my little girl, and you can’t even tell me what is going on. Forgive me for being a little untrusting, but how is this supposed to make any sense to me?”
“I don’t know what to tell you.”
“What to tell me?” Vincent shouted. “Tell me that you have my back. Why is it that in the last month, you had three different excuses as to why you weren’t going to send me to Top Gun? Then somehow these text messages magically went to human resources. Now, you won’t even pick up a phone for me, after everything I have done for you over the last four years?”
“How do you think I feel?” Dickhauser fired back, now clearly getting upset and letting out his frustration. “Nobody had my back when I was under fire last year in that investigation.”
“Whoa, whoa, why are you making this about you?” Vincent asked.
“I’m just saying,” Keith said slowly, backing down.
“No, what I’m telling you is I have killed myself for you for four years, ruining relationships because I was obsessed with this place, I work 10-11 hour days and am the driving force of this department and you can’t pick up a phone for me?”
Keith stared blankly at Vincent. “I will let you know as soon as I hear something,” Keith said oddly.
It was clear: Keith was not even willing to pick up the phone. He had lied to Vincent numerous times over the prior weeks. He had done everything he could to try to frame it that Vincent was not doing his job but had failed in that endeavor as well.
“Thanks,” Vincent said, knowing what he had to do next.
Vincent left and headed back to his office. He closed his door and picked up the phone. He was under orders not to call Lydia but that did not stop him from calling Agnes Landry.
Vincent described the atmosphere of the last few weeks and that he knew Keith was up to something. Agnes revealed that Lydia did not forbid him from interviewing and stated she would talk to Lydia about his call.
Ten minutes later, Keith came into his office. “You can schedule the interview for Monday,” Keith said. “And we have a meeting with Lydia downtown tomorrow morning at 11.”
“I just have questions as to why she was not permitting me to interview. We don’t need a meeting for that,” Vincent answered.
“We are going to meet to clear up the text message business,” Keith answered. “Why would we meet in person? Do you want it to be downtown so you can just walk me out without a commotion?” Vincent asked.
“We’re just going to meet to clear this up,” Keith said again, warily.
“What should I bring?”
“I would recommend you bring anything that shows why you were in the state of mind you were in,” Keith answered.
“Okay. Thanks for calling her,” Vincent said, knowing full well Lydia had called him.
This was extremely shady and Vincent had to get to the bottom of it.
Vincent came to play the following day, having stayed late the night before to print out hundreds of pages of supporting documentation, showing the entire history of his relationship with Autumn from messages on company time to everything that had gone through the courts for the custody case.
He also went into it knowing he could expose Keith as the liar he was. Gloves were off. Keith Dickhauser had chosen to pull his support from Vincent Scott and clearly justified it by continuing to bring up the fact he had been under fire for his unlawful, hostile administration. Vincent now had no problem making this personal and drawing him out with Lydia as his witness.
Keith was nervous in the elevator before the meeting and tried to make small talk about work. They walked into the Human Resources conference room and took seats opposite Lydia; Vincent sat directly across from her and Keith sat a few chairs down.
“I assume you know why you’re here,” Lydia said.
“Absolutely – Keith said we were here to clear up this text message issue that I thought was already cleared up so that I can transfer out of the department,” Vincent responded matter-of-factly. “I have an interview that I postponed from today until Monday so we may finish this conversation and I can answer for any outstanding questions, since there had been no investigation.”
Lydia proceeded to delve into legal speak about the hazards of management talking to non-management in this fashion, which was a complete 180 from her prior mantra of supporting him.
Vincent spent a full hour going over every document in his arsenal, his voice cracking twice as the memories and pain of his tumultuous relationship with Autumn resurfaced.
“Okay, do you have anything else to add, Vincent?” Lydia asked.
This was clearly nothing more than a formality. They were going to discipline him – maybe even suspend him – after 8 1/2 years of a spotless, exemplary record. Keith was after him and HR was going to let the wild, mad dog win. He had to do something…
“Just that punishing me punishes my daughter and obviously also punishes Autumn, so I have no idea what I’m doing here,” Vincent answered.
“Well, I am going to meet with Dickie and decide where we go from here. We’ll be back.”
In the fifteen minutes from the time they exited until their re-entry, a million thoughts went through Vincent’s mind. What were they going to do to him, and why? How could something like this actually cause any career trouble for him? Lydia had already told him she supported his stance.
Why was Keith not pulling him out of the fire? It was all about to become crystal clear.
When Lydia and Keith came back in, this time Keith sat next to Lydia so they were both across the table from Vincent. Keith held a piece of paper in his hands, signifying to Vincent that discipline was coming. A final warning or – worse – a suspension – was surely about to be handed down.
Keith barely read from it. It was a page four paragraphs long and Keith paraphrased two sentences.
“Vincent, in light of recent events, the company has come to the conclusion that your unprofessional behavior can not be tolerated. Effective immediately, you are terminated from the business.”
Vincent said nothing. He did not react. He looked briefly at the man who had orchestrated this.
Vincent had worked with Legal for years – they never would have supported anything beyond suspension. Keith Dickhauser was behind this.
At Lydia’s prodding he placed his identification badge and company-issued BlackBerry on the table. He got up, remained speechless, and walked towards the door making clear he was ready to depart. Lydia actually took a Kleenex and dabbed her eyes. Vincent was amazed this had actually gotten a reaction out of her.
Lydia walked with him and Keith stayed a little behind. They went down the escalators and Vincent took it all in: this company he had devoted all his energy to for 3,046 days was kicking him out.
It made no sense.
But it started to very quickly.
Vincent’s entire ABM career flashed before his eyes as he descended from the HR office on the mezzanine to the lower level via the escalator. That first interview with Belinda Appleton. Competing with Jake Stallings and Bambi Jennings and wreaking havoc on the sales charts and records as a rep. Murderer’s Row with Ted Benton and Jeff Mason. Shelly Cheekwood. Autumn. The awards, cheering and accolades. Building a department from scratch and its rise and now certain fall. It was all over.
Keith caught up to them.
“Vincent,” he said rather quietly. Vincent stopped and said nothing, nor did he turn to face the man. “I’m sorry it came to this.”
No, you’re not sorry, Vincent thought. You did this. And I can prove it.
“Vincent,” Lydia said as he reached the turnstiles that, upon crossing, would make his exile complete. “Do you want to make arrangements with Keith to pick up your personal belongings?”
Vincent looked at her, thinking for a moment. He had no desire to speak to that bastard again.
“Mail them,” Vincent said.
He turned and walked through the turnstiles, out the front door and, head held high, onto the streets of Minneapolis, unemployed for the first time in fifteen years.
