Lineup (10 page)

Chapter 19

ZIV
knew right away that something had happened. Rosen didn’t have a broad smile on his face just because he was happy to see him. The last time they’d spoken, here in this same room, he’d been very somber, without even the trace of a smile the whole time.

Now it was Ziv who wasn’t smiling. He felt as if he’d swallowed a lead ball. His encounter with Meir was still very fresh in his mind. The gun he was holding to his head, to Gili’s head, left him with no choice, no room to maneuver.

“I got a call from the ADA on the way here,” Rosen said with obvious satisfaction.

Ziv still didn’t know where Rosen’s sudden optimism was coming from. He’d lain awake all night, tossing and turning on the narrow metal bunk with its thin green grease-stained mattress. Whenever he looked over at Meir, he saw him watching him, keeping a close eye on him.

“I think they’re having trouble making their case against you,” Rosen explained. “They never give a lot away at this stage, before they issue an indictment. Especially not Galit Lavie, who thinks ‘plea bargain’ is a dirty word. She likes to take her cases to trial. But that’s the sense I get.”

He gazed at the attorney chattering away, planning strategies, mapping out their next move. He knew it was all meaningless. His fate was already sealed.

Ziv remembered a TV program he’d seen a few years ago. A slick American journalist was interviewing some homeless man who told him how his life had gone downhill until he reached rock bottom, how because of a series of unfortunate circumstances and bad decisions he’d gone from being a husband and father with a good job to living on the streets. He recalled thinking the guy was hiding something, some big secret, because things didn’t go sour so quickly, it didn’t happen like that. Now he’d be happy to trade places with him.

If he could only turn back the clock, he’d go back to that Tuesday when Gili was around two and a half. He and Merav had been married for almost four years and, all things considered, he had a pretty good life. He loved his wife and son, he was happy in his job as sales manager at IrrTech, a manufacturer of automatic irrigation systems. He’d only intended for it to be a temporary job, a way to pay his tuition while he got a degree in economics. He’d had bigger dreams than selling sprinklers. But he’d been surprised to find that he really enjoyed the work, and he started putting his heart and soul in it. He liked the negotiations, the satisfaction of closing a deal. And the company was pleased with him as well. Customers asked for him by name, complimented him on his thoroughness, amiability, and professionalism. And then when his boss retired, the CEO, Dov Shore, offered him the position of sales manager.

There wasn’t anything unusual about that week. Gili had a cold and wasn’t sleeping well. As usual, whenever there was even the slightest problem with Gili, things became tense between him and Merav. They were fighting all the time. Gili’s birth had brought a joy into his life he’d never known before. He was constantly torn between the demands of work and family, but he didn’t complain. He’d been alone for a long time. The death of his parents had taught him to appreciate the value of family.

But something changed when Gili turned two. Maybe it was just the endless routine, all the baths, bedtimes, and feedings that started getting on his nerves. Or maybe it was Gili himself. Their plump, cheerful infant had been transformed into a defiant toddler who fought him and Merav over every little thing, who answered any request with a “no,” who had become a whiny, spoiled brat. Or maybe it was Merav, who was always exhausted and couldn’t handle Gili. She complained constantly, demanding that he spend more time at home. Everyone told him it was a phase, it would pass, every kid went through it. But he was losing patience with Gili’s screaming and Merav’s nagging and inability to cope. Of course, he didn’t tell her that and he didn’t do anything about it, but he longed for a taste of freedom, for a little time for himself, a brief interlude when he didn’t have to be someone’s father, husband, or sales manager, when he could just be Ziv.

That Tuesday he’d stayed late at work. Edva came into his office as he was hanging up the phone after another fight with Merav. Edva was one of his team members, a part-time saleswoman. She was dedicated, hardworking, and bright. But they didn’t have any sort of special relationship.

“Something wrong?” she asked with a smile.

“Everything’s fine,” he said. He had no intention of sharing his marital problems with her.

She’d come in to consult with him about a quote she’d given a customer. Their conversation should’ve taken no more than five minutes, but he kept it going. He wasn’t in a hurry to get home, and perhaps unconsciously he wanted to punish Merav.

Edva listened attentively, showed interest, asked questions, and Ziv suddenly found himself telling her about the death of his parents, about his time in the army, about how he’d started working for the company as soon as he finished his tour of duty. She was easy to talk to, laid back, and made him laugh with stories that had nothing to do with diapers, feeding times, and how to keep a two-year-old occupied. He couldn’t help thinking how different their lives were, although they were about the same age. Since Gili was born, he and Merav hardly ever went out. The routine of everyday life was wearing them down. Most days he wandered around half-asleep. And he’d had to drop out of college, unable to juggle work, a new baby, and school.

He didn’t like to admit it to himself, especially now that he had everything he’d thought he ever wanted, but he envied Edva’s exciting life of clubs he’d never heard of, singers whose songs he didn’t know, restaurants he’d never eaten in, dating and sex.

When she told him about the man she’d started seeing, he felt an inexplicable stab of jealousy, and when she said she wasn’t sure he was right for her, he couldn’t stop himself from saying he thought she should break up with him, that she deserved better. With a laugh she said she wished she could find someone like him. He blushed. His embarrassment seemed to please her because she added, “Your wife must be on cloud nine. Not only good-looking, but a real man. Believe me, there aren’t a lot like you on the market today.”

They went to the break room and he noticed it was already very late. There was almost no one else in the office. Only Aviva, the accountant, was still bent over her desk working on the semiannual report. As he poured milk into her cup, he couldn’t resist a quick peek down her blouse. The sight of her voluptuous breasts cupped in a push-up bra excited him. He felt himself getting hard.

He was ashamed of his reaction. Sex with Merav had become increasingly rare since Gili, and he’d taken to filling the gap by jacking off with the help of porn sites. And now here he was with a hard-on because of nothing more than the low-cut blouse of a woman he’d never given a second thought to before tonight. Edva laughed—had she seen?—and he felt himself going red again and quickly turned his back to her.

When they returned to his office, she closed the door behind her and started moving toward him. Was he reading her signals right? This sort of thing didn’t happen in real life, at least not to him. But then he saw the look on her face and knew he wasn’t mistaken. They did it right there, in his office, on the stained carpet, trying to make as little noise as possible so as not to attract Aviva’s attention.

The sight of Merav asleep next to Gili when he got home filled him with excruciating guilt. He swore to himself that he’d never do it again. But he did. For the next month, he seized every opportunity, fucking Edva in his office, in her apartment, in the car. He was astounded by her unbounded sexual energy and by the way she released his. She made him feel young and wanted, agreed to do things Merav would never even consider. He jumped on the chance to give free rein to all the sexual fantasies he’d never shared with anyone else. Time and again he swore he’d tell her it was over, and time and again he gave in to her next proposition.

As time went by, they began to get careless. One night, when they thought everyone else had gone home, the CEO walked in on them. They were going at it on his desk. He was bare-chested and she was naked except for her panties. “I want you both in my office tomorrow morning,” Dov shrieked once he had recovered from the shock. Then he marched out, slamming the door behind him.

Ziv prayed he’d be able to persuade Dov that it was a one-off indiscretion, that it would never happen again, but as soon as he walked into his boss’s office he knew he was in too deep. It wasn’t just the expression on the CEO’s face but the fact that the company lawyer, Roy Warman, was there.

“You can’t imagine the kind of shit you’ve gotten us into,” Dov spat.

“Your girlfriend has filed a complaint against you with the cops,” the lawyer stated drily.

“For what?” he asked incredulously. Last night he’d assured her it would be all right, that he would talk to Dov and make certain she didn’t suffer any repercussions.

“According to the law, you’re guilty of sexual harassment,” Warman explained.

“What’re you talking about? It was completely consensual. I never harassed her! If anything, she hit on me!”

“It doesn’t matter. You’re her boss. You’re in a position of authority over her. That makes it sexual harassment. That’s what she says in her complaint.”

“Why would she do such a thing? It’s crazy!”

“This is why, you moron,” Dov said, hurling a sheet of paper in his direction. “Don’t you have a brain in your head? You want to screw around, go ahead. But how could you be so stupid as to hit on an employee of yours?”

Ziv picked the paper up from the floor and started reading, but the words were spinning in front of his eyes. He couldn’t make any sense of it.

“It’s from her attorney,” Warman said. “She’s suing the company for half a million shekels.”

“You get it now, you asshole?” Dov burst out. “It isn’t enough that I can’t fire her, I have to shell out to her too!”

Ziv was speechless, in shock. The hand holding the attorney’s letter was shaking. He ran his other hand through his hair over and over again. It was all happening too fast. There must be a way out. It was just casual sex between two consenting adults. Sexual harassment, my ass!

“I’ll talk to her. I don’t understand how this happened, but I’ll talk to her and work it out. Trust me, Dov. I know I made a big mistake, but I’ll fix it,” he said standing up.

“Sit down,” Dov barked. “I’m not done with you yet.”

“If you ask me,” Warman said softly, “she played us all. I bet someone put her up to it, told her how to turn a handicap into an advantage. Meanwhile, there’s a complaint against you and a lawsuit against us. I’m guessing in a couple of days we’ll reach an agreement and she’ll drop both of them. But let me give you some friendly advice—talking to her won’t help. It’ll just make matters worse.”

The lawyer’s assurance was soothing. There
was
a way out, a solution to the problem. It wasn’t as bad as he thought. But Ziv’s relief was short-lived. “Given the circumstances,” Dov said, “I assume you understand we can’t keep you on here.”

He was fired on the spot. What was he going to tell Merav? What could he say? That he’d cheated on her with one of his employees, that they’d caught him and he’d been canned? That what he had with Edva was only sex? He loved Merav and he didn’t want to lose her. He let himself hope that everything would work out like the lawyer said and then Dov would calm down and give him his job back. In the end, he was half-right: they cut a deal with Edva and she withdrew her complaint against him, but Dov wouldn’t even agree to see him.

Every morning he got up early, showered, shaved, kissed Merav and Gili good-bye, and left the house as if he was going to work as usual, as if everything was normal. He spent the day roaming the streets aimlessly or sitting on a park bench reading the sports page. He was desperate to be working again, but he didn’t bother to look for a job. The irrigation market was a small one. There were only six manufacturers, all vying for the same limited number of customers. He was ashamed to apply to any of the other companies. He assumed they’d all heard what had happened, why he’d been fired. Who’d hire him? No one wanted a man who couldn’t keep his dick in his pants, who put his employer at risk for lawsuits and scandals.

The first month when there was no salary in the bank he told Merav it was just a minor delay, a cash flow problem that would be worked out soon. She didn’t say anything, but she looked surprised. Not long ago he’d told her how well the firm was doing and how much they valued him.

Then another month passed, and another. Every day he left the house without a word. Merav started asking questions: What’s going on with the company? How come you’re not getting your salary? Did they stop paying all the employees or is it just you? Their meager savings were dwindling. How would they make the mortgage payments? He realized he couldn’t keep lying to her, that his back was against the wall. Finally, he told her he’d lost his job.

He was planning to tell her the whole truth, but he couldn’t do it. When she asked why he’d been fired, he said the firm was in bad shape because of the water shortage, that they had to downsize. “How many people did they fire?” she asked. “What difference does it make,” he said, hoping she’d let it go.

He felt better once he’d told her, and for the first time he started looking for a new job. But time after time he was turned away. One irrigation company showed an interest in him, but it didn’t take him long to figure out that all they really wanted was to get trade secrets from his former employer. He couldn’t go along with that. Even though he thought Dov had treated him unfairly and should’ve given him a second chance, he felt he owed him for seeing his potential and promoting him to sales manager. And he felt guilty for letting him down.

He tried expanding his search to other fields, but he had no luck with that either. There was a recession on, and he didn’t have a recommendation from his last employer or any special qualifications.

Merav began losing patience. She couldn’t understand why no one wanted to hire him. After all, he wasn’t fired because of anything he did. He wasn’t to blame for the state of the economy. “Can’t Dov help you? Why don’t you ask him for a recommendation?” she asked repeatedly. And each time he just shrugged his shoulders and changed the subject. He wanted to tell her the truth, even phrased in his mind exactly what he’d say, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He knew that if she found out the real reason he lost his job, it would destroy her, destroy their marriage. Instead, he started to resent her nagging.