Don't Tell Eve (20 page)

As soon as the meal was over, Eve signalled to Hilary and together they went outside. Luckily, Hilary had been close enough to Phil and the CEO to hear most of what had been said, so she was able to convey the highlights to Eve. By the time she’d finished, the yacht was stationary and rocking gently.

Eve dashed to the other deck, where they’d pulled up at the jetty, and pushed past all who were standing in her way in order to reach the CEO before she stepped off. She wanted to be the one to leave the boat with her – she wanted the CEO to associate the boat trip with her, not with Phil.

Phil, who was about to offer his arm to the CEO – a bit of a swell had developed – watched, bemused, as Eve plunged forwards. Unfortunately, as she did so she slipped, and rather than helping the CEO, she reached out to her as she fell towards not the jetty, but the water.

Phil managed to catch the CEO in time, but even Hilary was unable to save Eve as she tumbled down into the harbour, her pirate shirt billowing behind her.

It only took a second for her to disappear from view.

At first, no one moved.

But the spell was broken by Eve herself when she bobbed back up. ‘Stop your fuckin’ starin’ and help me outta here.’

Earlier than she would have liked the following morning, Eve met the CEO in her office. It seemed necessary to refer to the previous day’s incident. ‘I can’t believe they didn’t have a proper rail there, it’s completely irresponsible. I should sue!’

This comment received no response, so Eve tried again. ‘We were just very lucky no one else fell in.’

‘Yes, well.’ The CEO gave Eve a familiar icy smile. ‘But, on a completely different matter: how do you feel you’ve been doing since you’ve taken over the reins?’

Eve opened her mouth but, for once, didn’t quite know what to say. So far, her exchanges with the CEO had been all about details – finance, in fact, which the CEO knew all about anyway as she received regular updates. They were yet to have a more personal discussion, one that would give Eve an indication of how much her new boss knew about her, and the promise she’d been made.

‘Great, terrific – I think the financial results speak for themselves.’

‘Do you?’

‘Yes, of course.’ Eve wondered what she could mean.

‘Is there anything that you might have forgotten?’

Forgotten? thought Eve. Had Hilary forgotten anything? ‘I don’t believe so.’

‘Tell me about the books then.’

‘Oh, well, we’re publishing fewer of them. You already know that.’

‘Just like every other publishing house around the world.’ The CEO failed to look impressed. ‘But I’ve been reading the minutes for your acquisitions meetings, and they’re very revealing.’

‘Yes?’ Eve was, for once, alarmed.

‘Let me put it another way.’ The CEO reached into her eye-wateringly expensive bag. ‘Tell me about this.’

The style was different but Eve recognised the technique. It was her own, and it was pleasingly effective. She did feel extremely uncomfortable, as she was meant to. Nevertheless, she couldn’t see the point of the book the CEO was holding in front of her, which she also recognised. Her own copy of this so-called radical management book still languished in the cupboard where she’d flung it after that first glance.

‘In my opinion,’ said Eve, smug because she had one, ‘it’s amateurish. The author – whoever he or she is – doesn’t even want to admit to it. It doesn’t fit into any particular category, although it’s supposed to be about management. And the packaging, well, that’s misleading.’

‘Forget the packaging. Were you offered it?’

‘I’d have to check with my team.’ Eve had no recollection of the book being discussed, and if it had been, the publisher responsible would have been Jess, who was in charge of general non-fiction, which included the few business books the company did.

‘Don’t bother. If you had been offered it, would you have bought it?’

‘Of course not, as I said —’ Too late Eve realised what she’d done. This was a test and she’d got the answer wrong. But, no
matter, she’d learned from Todd – the old Todd – about the overriding importance of spreadsheets, profit margins and, in particular, limiting head count; and from Hilary about how to do this in the most simple, efficient and painless way, at least for the company. Overall then, her score had to be high: she was making money, so what else mattered? Eve was turning the company around and that had been the deal. The CEO must know that.

One wrong answer couldn’t hurt.

On the other side of the wall Jess was sitting cross-legged on the floor, next to the vent. So she didn’t notice the door behind her open, nor that there was someone else in the room listening just as carefully as she was, at least not until Phil leaned down and tapped her shoulder.

‘So, how long has this been going on?’

The vent was snapped closed.

‘Bloody hell – you can’t just creep up on people.’

‘I can, and I like that, coming from you.’

‘What did you hear?’

‘Enough – and it’s time we had a proper chat.’

‘Okay, fine.’ It was time, thought Jess. ‘But not here.’

‘Your place or mine?’ The invitation was accompanied by an eyebrow arch from Phil.

It was met with the sardonic response, ‘Yours. Friday?’

‘Friday night, let’s say seven.’ Phil picked up Jess’s fountain pen and wrote down his address, adding his home phone number and a series of kisses.

Before she flew home, the CEO gave an address to the entire company. She was upbeat, positive, enthusiastic and complimentary: they were all doing exceptionally well and should congratulate themselves; pats on backs were due to each and every one of them. The CEO’s speech was followed by a presentation of the big Christmas books from Roger, including – briefly, because he knew so little about it – Alex’s culinary blockbuster. Then Eve talked about the key books for the following year, about which Hilary had briefed her well.

Finally, before they were let loose on the party pies, sausage rolls, chips and cheap champagne that were getting respectively cool and warm at the far end of the room, the CEO announced the winner of the economy competition, the ‘eco-drive’.

Despite the internal hype and the CEO’s presentation, the eco-drive was a competition that few members of staff had taken seriously. At the beginning there had been some entries, but they’d quickly tailed off and the overall quality had been disappointing. Not that the quality mattered. Eve and Hilary still believed it had been – was – an excellent idea. Hilary was
particularly enthusiastic, as she was to be named joint winner and presented with her prize by the CEO.

The CEO approved of events that brought the company together and rewarded the ordinary workers and had been delighted when asked to present the prizes. She also loved Hilary’s nickname for the competition, conveying as it did the twin notions of environmental and economic soundness.

As is traditional in award ceremonies, she proceeded backwards, with the third prize – a set of DVDs of films made from the company’s books. ‘And this one goes to the mailroom …’ The CEO was pleased to see a spotty, shy young man pushed forwards by his older colleagues. ‘For the suggestion that people should think more carefully about what they send by post and courier. It may seem a simple idea but, as we all know, costs in this area can run up very easily if they aren’t monitored carefully. Well done … er … Jason.’

A red-faced Jason was given the DVDs plus a certificate of appreciation.

‘The second prize goes to a member of the publishing department. It’s an idea that you’ll all hate, and one that, you’ll be pleased to hear, we don’t intend to implement yet. It is, nevertheless, a very good way of reducing costs and a brave suggestion, which is what I particularly liked about it. It shows that this is a company where people feel free to say what they think. The suggestion is to cut everyone’s salaries.’

This was met with two or three nervous giggles, after which Phil graciously accepted his bottle of wine and certificate. On his way back to his place he read the label. It had been chosen by Hilary, alas.

‘Finally – the first prize.’ The CEO, trying to give the occasion some excitement but failing, looked around those assembled. After hearing Phil’s suggestion none of them wanted to know what the winning entry was – they were sure not to win as a group.

‘We have a joint winner for the dinner for two – but they don’t have to take each other.’ This aside brought polite titters from the audience. ‘Both came up with a very impressive, comprehensive, strategic approach to the issue of cost-cutting, which impressed both Eve and me.’

Roger and Hilary stepped forwards to receive their prizes. While Jess smiled – it came as no surprise – Roger was gobsmacked. He couldn’t believe that Hilary had managed to come up with an entry as impressive as his own proposal, as well as one so eerily similar. He’d spent a lot of time on his, developing the idea and working on its presentation. Not only had he presented an overall vision for the company, but it looked good with its pie charts, flow charts and spreadsheets, printed in colour and spiral-bound, as well as supplied on CD in Powerpoint. It also sounded good. He’d spent a lot of time watching re-runs of
The Office
and well as purchasing, on expenses, a number of useful books about language in the workplace, so the tone was just right. All in all, Roger had produced what he thought was the perfect contemporary corporate document – imaginative, yet familiar.

Neither Eve, Hilary nor the CEO had been able to understand his proposal, but it was long, he’d put more work into it than anyone else, and they certainly weren’t going to admit to each other that they didn’t understand it. So it was awarded joint first prize. Officially, the similarity of the two proposals was put down to a shared work environment and understanding of the company’s goals.

The following morning Eve gathered the team together and gave a classic performance which, after the CEO’s upbeat speech, came as a shock to what remained of them. Only Phil and Jess understood the reason for it.

‘Since I arrived,’ Eve began. ‘I’ve made the big decisions – the hard decisions – about staffin’ levels, company structure, warehousin’, unions. I’ve reinvented the way the company is perceived, and dragged you all into the twenty-first century, but what do I get in return? What do I get in return?’

Phil, who appeared to have suddenly chosen a kamikaze approach to career management, answered Eve’s rhetorical question. ‘Our respect, our loyalty and some very good projects.’

Jess examined her fingernails, thinking, Surely he wouldn’t?

‘And what might they be? Besides your soccer star? Did our expensive new novelist win?’

No one interrupted to point out that the book that had lost the recent award wasn’t the one the author had published with Papyrus, but his final with Zest.

‘And what about Alex’s new book? What the hell is happenin’ with that? Why haven’t we seen anythin’?’

‘It’s a good question, a very good question and one that deserves an answer.’ But before Phil could give it for her, Jess made a decision. ‘Alex has now decided he’s unable to write a book this year, for reasons I don’t believe I need to go into. We’re all aware of the stress he’s been under recently. It’s inconvenient, I know, but he needs our compassion at this juncture —’

‘But that’s breach of contract!’ gasped Roger, glancing up from his BlackBerry, mid-text.

‘— not, as I’m sure you’ll all agree, more lawyers.’

The room fell silent. It wasn’t an understanding, companionable, friendly silence; it wasn’t even a thoughtful, contemplative kind of silence. It was a thank-God-that’s-not-me-don’t-catchanyone’s-eye-least-of-all-Eve’s kind of silence. No one needed to think about what had just been said, they all knew what it meant for the company, and for Jess.

‘He really wanted to do it, but in the end it just wasn’t possible,’ Jess added. ‘He’s very sorry.’

Roger, to everyone’s surprise, recovered first. ‘Christ, this is a fucking disaster. But what about work he’s done already? Can’t we use that? A smaller format? More pictures?’

‘No, that won’t be possible.’

Before Roger could ask why, Phil stepped in.

‘Before you all freak out, you need to hear about the brilliant replacement project Jess has on the go – you didn’t think she was going to let us down, did you? And Alex has agreed to write the foreword.’

Alex hadn’t, but Alex would.

Instead of saying anything, Jess pretended to have a coughing fit. Pouring her a glass of water from one of the rarely used bottles that Hilary insisted sat in the middle of the table during these meetings, Phil continued.

‘It’s inspired! Jess was telling me about it before the meeting. Alex’s business partner and a well-known chef
himself, Jack —, has agreed to team up with Zoë —, who has got to be one of the country’s most exciting designers.’

Oh my God, thought Jess, it’s the pissed project.

‘Isn’t that right, Jess?’ said Phil.

Jess had no choice. ‘Think food and fashion, lots of gorgeous lifestyle shots, recipes, tips, ideas. Very magazine-y, reference-y – glossy, stylish, happening. New, but in a good way. Broad appeal to beyond our usual markets.’ Jess waved her hands about as she spoke, saying anything that came into her head. It didn’t matter, it wasn’t as if it existed.

Eve, who had been working herself up to throw something, gradually began to calm down. Food and fashion made sense to her – and it was safe ground. Plus the CEO liked Jack, and knew of Zoë’s designs. In fact, she’d admired one that Eve had been wearing, claiming it was much too showy for her own taste but that she could see the appeal.

‘Okay, okay. Let’s park the Alex matter for now and take it offline.’ It was a phrase Eve had picked up from Roger and she liked the sound of herself saying it. A lot happened offline nowadays, mostly in her office with Hilary. ‘I like this idea. And you’re right, Jack and Zoë are both rising stars who haven’t been properly exploited yet. This idea has potential. Jess, you should have brought it up earlier, through the usual channels, but we can discuss that later. What’s the timing on it?’

‘Tight, admittedly very tight, but we can do it.’ Under the table Jess crossed her fingers, legs and ankles. ‘We’ll be briefing everyone fully early next week.’

‘What about sales material?’ Roger sounded unconvinced.

‘Next week, by next week – I promise.’ Jess touched the wooden surface of the table casually. If Phil had thrown out any other names, she would have known she was being set up, but with Jack and Zoë, even if they’d hadn’t agreed, they were going to now and it was time to make sure. ‘Phil, shall we go?’

Phil nodded – he didn’t know what she was talking about but he loved an early mark.

‘I’m meeting them both in town in half an hour,’ she lied, ‘and as Phil also has a meeting there we thought we’d go together. Doing our bit to save company money and being nice to the environment at the same time. Just because the competition is over, it doesn’t mean the spirit of the eco-drive shouldn’t live on.’

Outside the boardroom, Jess accosted Phil. ‘We need to bring our meeting forward.’

‘A Friday lunch meeting, far away from the office, the only sort worth having. Do you want to ring Jack, or shall I?’

‘You can – I’ll ring Zoë. Whatever she was going to be doing, she’s not doing it now.’

‘Fine. See you by the exec lifts in five. By the way, I have a few questions to ask you on the way there.’

‘Likewise Phil, likewise.’