Awakening, 2nd edition (25 page)

“It isn’t that hard to think of a reason. Just this morning you were hinting about people playing dirty.”

“Yes, but not that dirty!”

“The degree of baseness usually depends only on the degree of punishment.”

“Fine. But if this is not an accident, I ’m sure there ’re laws against doing that .”

“Maybe. There ’re laws for everything. Yet banks still get robbed.”

Stella sighed.

“Okay, what do we do now?”

Robert sized up the distance between the boat and the shore.

“If I were alone, I ’d just swim over there.”

“And then?”

“And then I’d walk as far as I could until it gets really dark. Then I ’d spend a night in the woods and resume walking in the morning.”

“Good plan,” said Stella. “Let ’s go.”

“We’re not going anywhere. With you here, that’s not an option.”

“Really? Why not?”

“Same reason I ’ve told you before—this water is freezing. Unless you have experience swimming in water like this, it ’s a bad idea.”

“You mean I won ’t make it?”

Robert shook his head.

“If you know how to swim, you ’ll make it, ” he said patiently. “First, you ’d have your life jacket. And , second, I ’d be swimming next to you. But you don ’t want to risk hypothermia.”

“Thank you so much for your concern, ” the sarcasm in Stella ’s voice grew even stronger. “I ’m flattered and moved. It is so refreshing to know that you ’re under the protection of a real man.”

Robert glanced at her.

“What was that?”

“Never mind, ” Stella squinted. “I wonder, if instead of me you were stuck here with Mike or Alex , w ould you still deliver the same kind of , ‘I ’ll save ya, baby ’ speech?”

“Unlikely. It wouldn ’t even be funny.”

“Well, it’s certainly funny now, so let ’s have a good laugh, ” Stella abruptly rose to her feet .

The boat rocked.

“Turn away.”

“Now this is silly.”

“Turn away! Or this also depends only on the degree of punishment?”

“As you wish.”

And Robert turned towards the sunset that was blazing over the mountains.

The Rule of Separation: Never mix personal feelings with work. Never. No exceptions. One of the most useful, fundamental rules. Solid and time proven. It ’s been working flawlessly for years. Then why is it so hard to follow it now?

Alan firmly pursed his lips. Perfect! Now the Rule of Mask is broken , too!

It had never taken him so much effort to separate personal feelings from the business at hand. Now personal feelings were breaking through , in the most uncivilized manner , to the sacred chamber of business. They barged forward like a pack of roaring bulldozers, crushing everything in their way and pressing all the business -related thoughts back. The business -related thoughts were dull and featureless. They all rotated around dull and featureless concepts: workshop, victory, success, leader . The personal feelings, on the other hand, were full of bold and seductive images. Joan ’s face. Vivid, beautifully shaped lips. An alluring figure. A blouse unbuttoned at the top. A peachy cheek. A light touch . . . a velvet voice . . . That evening when it seemed that her interest in him went far beyond business, despite the persistent attention Chris was paying to her. Business thoughts paled next to these images and , reluctantly but steadily , were retreating further and further back.

And now this scene. The dark bar’s walls seemed to close in on him when he saw her sitting at the bar with Alex. And not just sitting—chirping merrily. She seemed so fragile next to his enormous figure that resembled a stone sculpture created by the chisel of a sculptor with a taste for monumental art. Alex sat, chin in palm, listening intently, while Joan, leaning slightly towards him, was talking animatedly. She seemed happy. Yes, really happy. And that happiness was almost unbearable to watch.

Alex said something, Joan shook her head and smiled, he added a few words, and then she laughed, tapping him lightly on his massive shoulder. And at that moment , Alan felt that he could hit her. He imagined slapping her peachy cheek furiously in a swinging blow, erasing her white smile, making her head jerk to one side, and bringing an expression of wild fear and pain to her face. And this thought somehow brought him some calm and drove the anger away. With an effort , he pushed this weird feeling away and determinedly stepped toward s them.

Nothing changed upon his arrival. Alex m umbled something friendly. Joan gave him a smile that looked like an instant replay of the one she had given Alex a minute ago. He nodded to them automatically and , without stopping , went past them. Joining the conversation , as he had originally intended , turned out to be too much for him bear. He grabbed a bottle of beer and a glass, briefly looked around the darkened room and headed toward s the others. Behind his back yet another chuckle sounded, followed by a snatch of a phrase: “That’s what they all say . . .”

He felt a little better once he joined the group . Chris, it seemed, was honestly glad to see him and waved to him from afar. Brandon enquir ed about Roberts ’s whereabouts . A s for Michael, he curtly but cordially pointed to a free chair. Alan sat down , sensing the dark angry feeling that had engulfed him at the entrance slowly evaporating. He told Brandon that he hadn ’t seen Robert for a while (“No wonder, the man’s in good company, ” Paul commented with a smirk), nodded to Michael , and in two gulps emptied half of his glass. Chris, apparently resuming his storytelling, began regaling the mischievous tricks of some executive assistant. Life was returning to normal.

And five minutes later, when the mixture of exciting anger and fear had vanished entirely, Joan joined them.

Alan hardly turned towards her, noting with gloomy satisfaction that his smile almost didn ’t twitch. When she sat down next to him, he instinctively glanced in the direction of the bar, expecting to see Alex walking towards them. But his massive figure was nowhere to be seen. Alan broadened the search scope and immediately found Alex next to the door. He was obviously not in hurry to join the crowd and , quite to the contrary , disappeared through the exit.

“What’s the topic?” Joan asked nonchalantly.

“Women,” winked Chris.

She smiled.

“I should’ve known. What else could it be? Women or sports. Were you at least saying something positive about us?”

“Of course,” said Brandon . “Generally speaking, men talk about women in much nicer terms than women talk about men.”

“We also don ’t do it as often, ” added Michael.

“And we tend to perceive you as individuals—not as stereotypes, ” concluded Chris.

“Stereotypes? Where did that come from?” Joan asked hotly. “I ’ve just heard a suggestion that we don ’t talk about anything but men.”

Chris shook his head.

“You should’ve heard yourself. ‘Women or sports, ’” he said, mimicking Joan ’s tone. “Now, that is an authentic dusty stereotype.”

“You’re right, ” Joan agreed with ease , “I ’ve oversimplified it.”

“Exactly,” Michael said. “Oversimplified. ‘I am not contained between my hat and boots .’”

“Who’re you quoting?” Ross wondered with a surprising interest.

“Whitman.”

“All right, all right, ” Joan said with an air of remorse. “Point taken. I oversimplified, mea culpa. No need to quote dead poets.”

“We forgive you!” Chris made a wide gesture. “It ’s impossible to stay mad at a beautiful woman.”

“The only woman!”

“Who has joined us in good faith!”

Joan gave them a charming smile.

“You boys are so sweet. Of course, that has escaped my mind, but that was totally unintentional.”

“What?” Chris wondered, heading full -speed for a trap.

“There’s so much more for you to discuss than women and sports, ” Joan held a pause.

“Of course! There ’s so much—”

“You also have politics. And cars. Now I honestly can ’t think of anything else.”

“Don’t you ever try that again, ” Brandon advised Chris , who seemed crushed. “She ’s a dangerous woman.”

“Okay,” Chris agreed with a mock grimness. “We ’ll see who gets the last laugh . . .”

“Just keep the faith, ” Joan advised as if nothing had happened. “Sometimes stereotypes die. Take me , for example. It wasn ’t long ago that coming to a place like this was not a good idea for someone like me. Back then , ten men would never choose me to lead them.”

Ross chuckled.

“Are you saying—” he began and broke off abruptly.

“Am I saying what?” Joan asked softly.

“N-n-nothing. You ’re right, everything is different these days.”

“I see,” Joan looked at him without saying a word until he took his eyes away. “Is that what everyone around here thinks?”

“What?” asked Chris frivolously. “That things have changed?”

“No, I’m talking about the comment Ross didn ’t have the guts to finish.”

“That in reality nothing has changed?” clarified Michael.

“Right,” Joan confirmed with an odd intonation.

They all fell silent.

“That’s not what I meant, ” Ross said, at last. “You got me wrong . You didn’t even hear me finish the sentence.”

“Don’t get all worked up, ” cheered him up Paul. “We got you right. The voting will tell what everyone really thinks.”

“Bullshit,” Alan said curtly all of a sudden. “The voting will tell something else.”

“And what would that be?” Paul asked, ignoring Alan ’s tone.

“The only thing the voting will really show is who likes whom.”

Although Alan was answering Paul’s question, his eyes remained fixed on Joan ’s face.

“As for gender equality, it has nothing to do with it. In fact, if there ’s any inequality involved, it ’s the opposite to what Ross said . . .”

“What do you mean, opposite ?” Joan asked.

“Just that. It’s you who has an advantage here.”

Joan smiled.

“How about elaborating?”

“There’s nothing to elaborate. I ’ve just said it all.”

“I’m sure you can make an effort and go one inch deeper.”

“Why should I? I ’m sure everyone understood precisely what I meant.”

“Listen,” Chris intervened. “I don ’t like where this conversation is heading . Why don ’t we go back to the previous subject?”

Joan opened her hands, her face full of merry bewilderment.

“We haven’t changed the subject yet. You were talking about women when I showed up, right? Or was it a men-only conversation?”

“Chris was kidding, ” said Michael. “We were ta lking about something else.”

“Like teaching women a lesson?” Joan asked abruptly.

Michael shook his head calmly.

“No. We were talking about—”

He didn’t finish—loud booming yells filled the room.

“Come on! I want them to hear this! Now!” Alex was moving towards them like a tank, yelling at someone outside the door.

“Really, come on! I mean it.”

He stopped and waved authoritatively to the person hiding in the dark.

The person finally accepted the insistent invitation and , having walked through the door , turned out to be Kevin. As he was reluctantly approaching the table, Alex placed his bulk of a body into a chair, threw a handful of salty nuts into his mouth and , chewing them loudly , explained: “He says he’s got some information. Something I ’d be interested in. But I didn ’t even want to listen. I told him straight out , ‘My friend, this conversation can only take place in front of the group. No way around it.’ Ah, Mike, you ’re here. Good.”

He turned to Kevin, who had finally reached the table. “Go ahead, spill it. So what did you see?”

“I didn’t see anything interesting, ” Kevin informed everyone, looking for some reason askance at Michael.

“Yeah, right. Nothing interesting. But somehow you thought it was worth coming and talking to me about it . That was a good call, except I don ’t play politics. So let ’s make it public knowledge, shall we?”

Kevin sighed.

“There’s nothing to talk about, ” he said with a great deal of reluctance. “It just came up as we talked.”

“Just came up? Just came up, huh? Don ’t give me this crap. You came to me to talk about this. Stop beating about the bush.”

Suddenly, Kevin turned angry.

“Listen, I don ’t remember giving you permission to talk to me like this!”

Alex raised his hands in a peacemaking gesture.

“I’m sorry, Kevin. I shouldn ’t have said that . You ’re right. I apologize. But you know how important this kind of stuff is to me. And not only to me, for that matter.”

“What is this all about?” Michael asked when Kevin heaved yet another sigh. “And can somebody tell me how my being here is related to this show?”

“How? Because this is about you , that ’s how, ” said Alex, throwing another handful of nuts into his mouth. “Kevin, please? People are waiting. You ’ve got their attention now.”

Kevin sighed once again and turned to Michael.

“So we talked about this note . . .”

He went silent.

“What note?”

“The note that somebody planted in Alex ’s room. You know , this blackmail . . . well, you know.”

“And?”

“And I told Alex that essentially each one of us is a suspect. Not that every one is, but on the other hand, anyone could ’ve done it. And knowing that the only printer is in the library doesn ’t help.”