The warm rays of the sun helped to fend off the occasional chill the blow of the wind carried. A little surprised at the appearance of the sun, she welcomed and enjoyed the mix of warmth and chill on her bare arms. Then it was obstructed, a shadow fell onto her and blocked the warmth. She looked up at the towering figure blocking her sun.
"Hi Gina, it's been some time since I saw you last, hm? That doesn't bode well for business," Roy said, winking his eye as he came toward her and shook her hand.
Gina was glad she could get Doxxan's VP of Finance to the table on short notice. And not only that, he was also a sight—an athletic, rather vain, good-looking man in his mid-thirties. At 6'1, he was four inches taller than Gina.
He came with an entourage; with him were his accounting manager and the user representative of the project that Gina's company worked on. Except for Roy, these were the same people she had met with earlier in the day. Roy didn't specifically acknowledge Dungi's presence—other than a nod toward him. Roy had never met Dungi but the other two men knew Dungi well from the project.
After some pleasantries, Gina asked a server to move them to a bigger table. Once all were seated, Gina began by telling them how sorry she was for not being better prepared earlier and having to ask for another meeting so soon after. The work was indeed completed, she said while signaling Dungi to produce the proof of completion. The user representative examined the piece of paper Dungi laid on the table. It looked proper, he concluded approvingly.
"So, why didn’t we accept her invoice?" Roy asked his Accounting manager, with a raised tone.
Yes, why? The Accounting manager had not known that his boss would join the meeting. He wasn't prepared to answer his question, especially when the real reason for it was superfluous: He had just wanted to see more of Gina. He knew if he created some kind of artificial difficulty, and held out long enough it would eventually reach Gina. It was a foolish and immature thing to do but a meeting with Gina was well worth it. As a result of his tomfoolery, Gina had asked to meet him twice within a week. And for that, he was now in trouble. He could either own the improper conduct or admit incompetence.
"I must have overlooked the acceptance certificate. My bad. Please resubmit your invoice and I will process it right away. I'm sorry Gina," he said—straight admission, no buts, no ifs.
Gina nodded sympathetically, assuring him it was no big matter. He was relieved. And Roy? Roy had pulled his weight, it worked and he felt good. He looked at Gina watching for a sign of gratitude, but Gina was already thinking of how pleased the Boss would be upon hearing this.
All was fine and dandy. Everyone relaxed, everyone but one. Dungi still didn't understand how Gina could get away with it so easily—at least that was how it appeared to him. Dungi couldn't believe that Gina had met with the client without the slightest preparation. If she had brought the document to her meeting earlier, I wouldn't have to come all the way here. Who does she think she is? Does the Boss know this? Dungi thought grudgingly.
But people like Dungi would never understand office politics. It was beyond his paygrade. He would never understand how little could be big and big could turn little. One thing Dungi knew, however, was how to be safe. He should not venture out of his designated zone; he dared not show any attitude. Moreover, Gina could get feisty and was two levels his senior. The Boss loved her while he was a nobody to the Boss. There was no enticement for Dungi to do anything but sit and obey.
In those five minutes, Gina resolved the issue, and she felt redeemed. She spoke no more business throughout lunch, and talked mostly with Roy—leaving the three underlings scrambling to find words to say to each other while waiting for their sumptuous lunch to be served.
She was relieved she did not immediately disclose to the Boss she had committed the foolish mistake of not being well-prepared for the meeting. She suspected telling him the whole truth would be seen as shying away from consequences, and he would not have appreciated it. He would not see it as an attempt at honesty, he would see it as complacency followed by weakness.
"Thanks, Dungi. Sorry for the trouble," she said to Dungi with a smile after the clients left. She is truly beautiful, Dungi thought.
Gina took an elevator down to the basement parking lot. Her car was parked conveniently in front of the elevator vestibule. The scent inside her car was of her perfume. The interior was neat and organized. Her mind, however, was filled with one thing. As she was driving her car out of the basement parking lot, she spoke to her phone. "Siri, call my boss please." Three rings and his deep voice greeted her.
"Hi, Gina. How did it go?" The Boss asked.
"Good. Very good. Where are you?"
"Home."
Gina placed herself in his spacious, high-floor penthouse right-smack downtown, almost equidistant to all their clients' work premises. She could picture her boss' erect posture, overlooking the bustling streets from his glass wall and talking with her while holding a glass of scotch and a cigar between his fingers. She could hear Buddy Guy’s guitar wailing in the background as she stood behind him, looking at the same streets he was looking at.
She had been to his building many times but had never been in his apartment.
"Do you feel like having a drink nearby your place?"
There was a slight pause, then,
"Not really. Did it truly go well?"
"Yes," she said.
He sensed her disheartened voice. He reconsidered, then decided he shouldn't.
Driving out of the parking lot, she almost hit a pedestrian. A little stunned, she stopped by the side of the road while continuing her conversation with the Boss.
He offered an alternative. Breakfast at 8:30 at Eggs & Flowers, a posh restaurant on the top floor of his apartment building.
"I can do 8 am if that's ok with you. I have a weekly meeting with the team at 9:30 am."
"On a Saturday?"
"Well, it was supposed to be on Thursday, but then we were all tied up with meetings. So we moved it to the only day that we are all available for this week."
She just wanted to be at the breakfast sooner, to have more time with him. The Saturday meeting she mentioned was not completely untrue, but it was not of any real importance. Besides people would find sound reasons to avoid working on weekends, which was a healthy behavior, so she half expected them to cancel anyway.
The Boss was looking forward to seeing her at breakfast the next morning.
"See you tomorrow," Gina said.
Just as she was about to hang up, he called her name.
"Yes?"
Good job, he said. Gina pictured his satisfied smile.
"Thank you." She felt light and smiled to herself.
Still smiling, she put her phone down and continued driving onto the main road. She took her sunglasses from the visor. The glare from the asphalt disappeared and turned into the pretty hues of the rainbow. Her phone rang. It was Roy. He asked her, prudently, if he could meet her after office hours for a drink. His manner was so sweet. She said yes.
The face of her boss flashed in her mind. Don't blame me, she thought, for no apparent reason. And she put her stilettoed foot on the gas.
She looked out the window. It was raining outside. The plane was still taxiing, rolling slowly on the taxiway. This was it, the last time she would be in the land of her hometown for a long time. She had planned to go back no sooner than six months. If she was to start anew, then today should be her past, tomorrow should be her today, and yesterday should not be revisited too soon. She would not think about the people she left. Not her friends, nor those who were once her clients back in Abalido and Quinaeros—like Roy. Not even Rhonda, the last person she said goodbye to just an hour ago at the airport. And not The Boss—especially not him. She had to make room in her mind for new people, new acquaintances, and new kinds of relationships. She took out the card from her purse—Rhonda had saved
She was not sure how to enjoy the glitz, attention, and admiration she received on the night of the lavish farewell party The Boss threw for her. She would leave for Jakarta as a Trelleconian the following day, and cease to call Georg her boss—and start calling Abram her boss, instead. Something she had never thought would happen. It was surreal—and not something she enjoyed at all. The Boss was her boss now and always—that stood no more. She saw he had spared no expense for her. He closed down the entire Eggs and Flowers for the party, and had them fill the room up with more flowers than what it already had. He made sure that not only the entire management of Abalido and Quinaeros were there that night, but also people who were dear to her. Rocco was there, and a couple of clients she had had cl
"So, you’re finally letting her go," Abram said, seated comfortably, gnawing a cigar, with a drink in his hand—The Boss was doing the same. The Boss said, "I have to," from the mentally opposite side. "It was her decision." He brought to mind the day following their talk the evening after the celebratory party; she had called him to say she was seriously considering the offer, and needed a week to think—and thus his turbulent state of mind. She got back to him yesterday to confirm. Crushed—the seconds that passed tortured him all throughout the night. He met with Abram the following day—this day—to let him know. He forced himself to come to terms with her decision: she would take Abram's job offer and leave him.
It was a glorious day for all of them. The Trelleco board had met and came out to support the Indonesian project, and appointed Abalido and Quinaeros Inc. as their consulting partner. The decision was unanimous—Abram got the unity he wanted not only at the management, but also at the board levels. Kronos had withdrawn their bid the day before when Aerlman—as Trelleco's COO—requested a clear list of key resources to be included in their counterproposal—as he did Abalido and Quinaeros. He acted on the advice Gina gave through The Boss. Surely enough that would have disclosed Kronos' intention to supply inadequate resources if they had not pulled out. To the people who knew, Gina was the star of the private party that the two companies jointly threw together that evening. With the latest thing
The meeting with Waylor was in some place out of town, about twenty miles off Seattle—in Bothell. The diner restaurant was nondescript, and the patrons were scarce. She walked to the end of the room and recognized the other gentleman Abram had introduced her to during breakfast at Eggs and Flowers. He was not Waylor. He was casually dressed, fitting the atmosphere of the place—so was Gina. Waylor had told her what to expect from the place, "We would just be two suburbanites having dinner," his text to her said. He stood up as she approached, and formally introduced himself and they shook hands, unlike two intimate suburbanites. "I'm sorry Mr. Waylor cannot make it in the last minute but insisted this meeting with you
What The Boss did not want to reveal, was not a mystery hard to unravel. The four of them got together on the same evening after Gina met The Boss. She had expected something that would take much longer with him, but otherwise considered what had transpired during lunch as progress. Still in her jubilant mood, Gina told Rhonda, Linda and Rocco what she had learned at her lunch with him: The Boss' hands were everywhere in their affair on and before that fateful night. "Still, he wouldn't let me know how." Except in the case of Roy, which Gina knew from Roy himself—The Boss gave him a pass that was valid on the day their plan was to be executed. Cunning—the girls realized how shrewd their boss was. Rhonda shared what sh