The Fives Run North-South (10 page)

I’m sure there had been a time, maybe two. No way I could name or describe it now, but I’m sure it had been there once. A time when all the loose ends were tied up. Perhaps when Peter had been two or three. Or our newlywed period, despite the money problems. I rubbed my temples, wondering if it would ever again be possible to have alignment. Alignment in knowing the right thing to do and the willingness or even the energy to do it.

10

I
t had been a tough Wednesday morning at the office. And only halfway through what was promising to be a long afternoon. I really didn’t have time to talk with her, but it appeared to be unavoidable.

“What is it, Suze?” I said into the phone, letting out an appropriate amount of exasperation.

“Jesus, Adam, I need you…”

Hysterical. Shit. Something real here. Shit.

The layers of the day peeled away, leaving this call and a sudden, overwhelming wave of guilt.

“What is it?”

“I’ve been run off the road. I’m trapped in the car…I’m…oh, Jesus.”

I stood up. “Suze! Are you okay?”

“I…I don’t know. I can’t feel my legs. The firemen are here. Police. Trying to open the door…oh, Adam. Where are you?”

Just twenty minutes earlier:

I looked down at my cell phone, buzzing in my hands. Caller ID read Suze. Just like only minutes earlier. I’d been listening to Curtis Viniteri’s voice mail and had heard that annoying
call
-
waiting
beep.

Not now. I tucked the phone back into my pocket. Woman always had a way of picking just the right fucking time.

I looked up across my desk as Kyle Thomas and the others made themselves comfortable. Battle lines, but it was good to be in my office, on the home turf. He had called asking for the meeting. I hadn’t expected that. At least not at this point. I had to admit, it put me off balance just a bit. I’ve always hated that feeling and had done a good job avoiding it in recent years. It’s an excellent fringe benefit in the CEO package of goodies.

As I caught my breath, I held my finger up to them, indicating that I would be right with them. Then I replayed the voice mail I’d received from Viniteri. It had not been what I’d expected. As quiet as it’d been since I’d hired him, I had been expecting him to suggest that he stop wasting my money. That we call it a day on the red SUV affair. Whatever I’d thought was happening had been either a series of coincidences or perhaps my little
road
-
rager
fellow had simply run out of steam. Instead, the voice mail from Curtis has been this:

“Need you to call me when you have a good five minutes to talk. Seems like we might have a bit of a thing here. Call my cell. Thanks.”

A bit of a thing here.

Huh?

I grew resentful of the message as I tried to push it from the forefront of my mind. Timing is everything. I’ve not heard from him in days, and he sends me a message just minutes before I have this meeting scheduled. Bombs drop in clusters these days, I guess.

Kyle seemed intent on straightening and restraightening his tie, admiring it as he did so (must be new; looked expensive). Beside him, Chester was giving his eyebrows a workout as he tried his best to look relaxed. A third man sat motionless in the chair to my left; his face showed no expression. I studied him as best I could, trying not to make it obvious. He was robotic in his movement, almost as if he moved only when necessary, but when he did move, he did so almost as if he wanted to prove a point. Like he was some kind of black belt martial artist. I bet that when he moved an arm, he expected that movement to cause a noise of displaced air. Probably heard the sound in his own head.

“Adam,” Kyle said. “This is Jimmy Bolt.”

We both stood, though in his case, it was more like a controlled upward dive. He held his hand out to me (
pfwip
) and we shook. He then sat (
whoosh
).

“Good to meet you,” I said.

Before he could reply (if he was going to), Kyle said: “Thanks for taking time out of your schedule to visit with us, Adam.”

“My pleasure,” I said.
Pissant
,
I added telepathically.

“I had a thought. Ran it by Chester at dinner the other night. Thought we’d share it with you. Get your reaction.”

“I’m always up for new ideas. Especially those that originate in part over a good bottle of cabernet.” Turning to Chester and smiling: “Or was it a pinot noir?”

Chester’s eyebrows convulsed.

“Good to hear,” said Kyle.

“Think Bordeaux, maybe…” Chester muttered.

Jimmy Bolt crossed his legs.
Whizzzupp
.

Kyle extended his arm toward Jimmy as if he were a model from
The Price is Right
presenting a new car. “Jimmy Bolt is a consultant I’ve worked with before. Perceptive beyond belief. Uncanny ability to absorb a business’s makeup, processes, and environment. Sort of a SWOT on steroids kind of guy.”

I glanced at Jimmy. He was looking at me. No. Not at me. Through me. At my chair.

He’s wondering how comfortable it is…whether he would keep it or buy a new one
.

“So I was thinking,” said Kyle. “We could use a bit of perspective right now, especially considering how well it seems Resortex is doing in our space…”

“Resortex is hardly a good comparison to what we do…”

“My point exactly,” said Kyle. “But who’s to say we’re right and they’re wrong in our particular approaches?”

I let the question linger. Standing up, I glanced out my window. Clouds coming in. I turned to them and said: “I am.”

Kyle let a smile creep across his face. I thought I saw a hint of admiration in there, but only a hint. “Then we can only assume that Jimmy Bolt will come to the same conclusion.” He looked over at Jimmy then added: “When he’s done.”

“Well, you know what they say about accountants,” Chester said with a chuckle.

“No, Chester. I don’t,” I said. “Why don’t you tell me?”

He giggled. “You know. What they say…”

His head swiveled as he tried to find a supportive smile from any of us. Seeing none, he let his grin fade and checked out his watchband.

“Let’s stop dancing here, Kyle,” I said. “Last time you strolled in here you announced that you’re recommending to the board that I be replaced as CEO. While I have the stomach for whatever challenge you want to
present
—
and
am entirely confident that after a clear review of the facts everyone will find that status quo is ultimately the best thing for this
company
—
I’m
not willing to play nicely with someone brought in specifically to support an agenda that’s already decided upon. Now if we want to bring in internal auditors who’ll present their findings to the board after an impartial, thorough review, I’m all for it. Let’s interview candidates and come to a consensus on the right person for the job. Heck, I’ll even give Jimmy Bolt here all the due consideration he’s entitled to.”

Kyle held up his hands in a mock gesture of
self
-
defense
. “I’d like to tone it down a bit. Just for a few minutes. I’m an aggressive guy, I’ll admit. Dive in before checking for rocks and all that. I apologize if I came on strong when we met. After some enlightening conversations with folks like Chester here, I’m less convinced we need to make a change. You’re well thought of, Mr. Mann.”

Not falling for it.

But might be good to pretend.

“I appreciate that,” I said. “So what’s the purpose of this meeting?”

“Like I said, to get Jimmy Bolt’s feet wet, not to ‘support an agenda’ as you put it. To simply add to the collective knowledge of all involved, including you. I say we take his findings and review them with
you
—
and
you
alone
—
before
anyone on the board.”

I nodded, adding a false eagerness. Not too much, but enough to let him think he’s set the hook.

Kyle continued. “I’m guessing most of what he includes in his report will be nothing new to you…but perhaps he adds some elements of dimension that might surprise you.”

Chester’s eyes grew wide, nodding along with me. Like I’d hypnotized him.

“Then,” Kyle said. “We present our ideas to the board. Together. Including, of course, the color your experience and wisdom bring to the overall presentation. In fact, I’d not even need Jimmy Bolt
there
—
you
can present the details.”

Jimmy hadn’t moved in five minutes.

“What do you say?” Kyle asked.

Whoosh
.

My head turned in unison with Kyle’s and Chester’s, all three looking at Jimmy Bolt, who had just raised his hand.

“Hold that thought,” he said. Blinking twice. Very efficiently, even for blinking. Though surprisingly without sound.

Kyle smiled and nodded. “I see where you’re going with this,” he said. Turning to me. “Can you give us five minutes, Adam?”

I shrugged. “I suppose.”

No one moved.

Did they really expect me to leave my own office to give them some private time?

Chester cleared his throat.

Kyle smiled. Looking at me, he asked: “Do you have a small conference room I could use with Jimmy Bolt here.”

“On the other side of reception,” I said.

Chester cleared his throat again.

“Jimmy Bolt and I will be right back.”

They both stood. Jimmy Bolt’s pants had no creases.

“Chester, why don’t you use the rest room or something,” I said, as it dawned on him that he wasn’t needed by either me or the corporate wonder twins.

“I could use some coffee,” he said, getting up to leave.

I sat alone in my office, measuring my breathing.
Now what?
This chess match was keeping me on edge. That, I’m sure, was the point. Of course it was. This is no different than some of the challenges I posed for my own team. I really didn’t understand where Kyle got the authority to play chess master with me, but I was not encouraged by some earlier discussions with board members who had stars in their eyes. Dazzled by this Wall Street wunderkind who seemed infatuated with our company, a company much smaller in size than the playgrounds he seemed destined to frequent.

We’ll see.

I glanced over at my computer screen. About thirty unopened
e
-
mails
had arrived since the beginning of the meeting. I reached for my mouse, and clicked on the first message. Then my phone buzzed in my chest pocket. I reached in.

Suze. Again.

This time I answered.

Suze was okay, as it turned out. A nasty gash on her left thigh and a bruise like grape jam on her shoulder where her seat belt had grabbed her, holding her fast to the seat as her car rolled three times down the embankment by the side of Kellogg Road, near a tight curve. An easy place to lose control.

Now, maybe she’d have been able to react better had she not had her phone in hand, up to her ear listening to Jess prattle on about the latest in her series of personal crises (this one, as it turns out, had to do with a pedicure infection which
was
—
Jess
was
sure
—
done
on purpose). Suze didn’t react well when the accident happened. She outright panicked. But a combination of seat belt, airbag, and luck combined to keep injuries light.

When I arrived at the crash site, she was reclined on an ambulance gurney and surrounded by two attendants and a policewoman. As I looked down at her car, I marveled that she was in the shape she was. There was evidence of how they’d had to cut the door away to retrieve her; perhaps that made it look worse than it was.

I walked up to her. “I’m here Suze,” I said.

For a second, resentment. Then she smiled weakly and started sobbing. I put my hand on her shoulder (her uninjured one, luckily), and she quickly reached up to grab my hand and leaned her head over our clasped hands.

“How is she?” I asked.

“So far, so good,” was the reply. “We’ll take her in to check her out once we cover up this cut.” In other words, get out of the way.

“I’m right here,” I said to her, backing away.

“What happened?” I asked the policewoman.

“She said she was run off the road,” she said. A little too much emphasis on “said” in that response. I surveyed the scene. Traffic was crawling, only one lane open as firemen tried to direct the long line of cars. They alternated, letting about twenty cars from westbound through before giving eastbound a try (I’d given up trying to get here about a
quarter
-
mile
back, leaving my car in a parking lot and trying to run/jog/walk my way to the scene). A fire truck, three squad cars, and the ambulance crowded the breakdown lane, all turning the area into a disco circus with their lights flipping endlessly round and round. As cars passed, I saw both the curious and the annoyed eyeing the scene, and felt a small grip of embarrassment for Suze’s sake. I had to remind myself that she was the victim here and that this was not another example of her tendency to ripple the waters.