Nothing momentous was going on in the office. Every consultant was trying to be at the clients' premises at least fifty percent of the time to earn billable hours. Those who stayed in the office did so quietly and were in shame. They felt useless and were afraid that the company would see them as a cost burden. Except for Dungi.
As Gina entered Abalido & Quinaeros' headquarters and walked toward her glass-walled office, she saw Dungi on the phone, like he always was, loitering in the halls, king of the almost-empty workplace. Gina was never sure what his contribution was as a Program Manager, other than offloading the administrative workloads of the swamped project managers and consultants—which he hadn’t been doing. His function was to collate progress reports and integrate them into a single vi
Rhonda drove her convertible along the I-5 highway, slightly above the speed limit. As she drove past other cars without having to accelerate, wind in her hair, she felt the joy of cruising and mused about her father, the person responsible for this delight. Really, all she did was get her first job, a secretarial role that promised no career path nor did it pay well, and that was all it took to make the old man ecstatic. At first she didn't understand what the big deal was until her mother told her it was all about earning her own living. In retrospect, she now understood how hard it must've been for her father to refrain from pampering her, from distracting her from what mattered in adulthood: work and getting paid. A car! He couldn't
The café played a jazz rendition of Lennon's Imagine. The topic on Feynman and all others that it brought about had ended. Noon, still one hour to go. They both looked through the window at the colorful street; the foliage of green, yellow, red and all colors in between threw shades on the passers-by, parked cars, and a blue USPS box across the street. Who still sends actual mail these days? she thought. He observed her while she was busy with her inner thoughts, and looking over the window. Beautiful, he thought. Sexy. He liked her short brunette hair, and the way her lips parted when she smiled. He had watched her as she was walking toward the café that morning. She was dressed in a business outfit, ankle-length business pants, a navy blue blazer, and a white blouse. As she was seated, h
At half-past-twelve, they went out of the bookstore/coffee shop and walked across the street to the bistro where they were supposed to have the meeting. He wanted to drink a glass or two of Portland's finest brews before meeting Tom—their managing consultant in Portland—and his clients. "I was supposed to meet with just Tom last night then head back to Seattle this morning, but then yesterday he strongly suggested I also meet with his clients. That's why I need you." "For what, exactly?" Rhonda was still in a flirtatious mood. She couldn't turn it off just like that, especially after she knew she had an incriminating effect on him. He didn't let himself be baited; he offered a smile. He had handled things like this in the pa
"No, I'm not jealous. Not at all. But I do think it's sluttish what you did," Gina said, slightly upset and simultaneously amused upon hearing what Rhonda tried to pull with the Boss. She scoffed, then went back to looking at the menu, trying to deal with the mixed feelings she had. The feelings that sat between curiosity and fear of not liking what Rhonda might say next. But Rhonda knew when to stop, and how much was to be divulged. "I don't know what got into me, but he felt like a challenge and I kept on losing—I threw in all I got. Nothing that should've happened, did. But Gina, like I said, he reacted to it—excellent control but a man nevertheless," Rhonda summed up her experience with the Boss the day before.
"Gina, I am yours. Kronos is as good as you in analysis and planning. Yes, they have the bigger name and world presence. But your team has the practical experience, they've been exposed to the fields, and where the rubber meets the road, and that qualification is invaluable. Moreover, my team is already joined at the hip with yours—it yields synergy," John said. Synergy—Rhonda recalled what Pete had said about that word: Aerlman's pet word. It makes sense, Rhonda thought. "And I think, although he doesn't say it, Abram is also inclined toward your company, and so is Pete. Adrian wants visibility, so he can have an easier life—but he doesn't think much about the amount of groundwork involved. Kronos is not as e
Raymond was the managing partner, one of the three gods owned by The Boss. Of those three, Raymond was the most powerful and feared. He was a big, cigar-chomping man. He was loud and daunting. Yes, he was extremely sharp and knowledgeable, but those qualities only bolstered his unpleasant and mean-spirited demeanor. Raymond was not one to beat around the bush. It was not a good surprise when Layla told Gina that Raymond was looking for her, as she was about to sit in her office. What for, Gina inquired. "I have no clue, Gina, and dared not ask," Layla said, and she didn't even talk to the man directly. She talked with his secretary. "He wants you to see him as soon as you’re back."
She was lying naked on her bed, all fresh and smelling like flowers after a long, hot shower. Nobody was there to smell her though, not for another hour and a half. In ninety minutes, she was to meet Roy for dinner. Now, she just wanted to relax, and probably touch herself a little here and there, as she had always done whenever she felt wanted—and that was often. Roy had hinted at a new business, and suggested dinner to talk about it. She smiled. What an old trick, she thought, it was cute, and she played along. She would bring the Boss, she said—although she wouldn't; the Boss did not attend dinners unless it was necessary, or he was the one who initiated them. "No, do not embarrass me. The business is not substantial enou
Whenever he was meeting Gina he made sure he arrived first. He loved to witness how she made her entrance, how she turned heads as she walked toward his table. He stood up to greet her. He planted a kiss on her cheek, surprising her. Surprising himself; not a known habit. She was dressed for impact; the dress she had changed into when her dinner plans had been altered, was designed to lure. Shimmery gold in color, it had a low décolletage covering just enough to leave to the imagination, their roundness tastefully outlined. The material discreetly recorded every move her body made. She was in for a kill, for more than just making an impression. As he helped her into her seat, he was treated to glimpses of her thighs. The skin smo
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
The Sun peered now and then over the grey condensed water vapor. The wind slipped through between the buildings and trees and was quick to wipe out the warmth off the skin. One could see the windswept hair of the women as they went in and out of the shops, and smell the wafted scent of perfume as they passed one another. The afternoon was cloudy and cold. Her heart was joyous. The concierge at Eggs and Flowers was cheerful to see her back. He was quick to greet and usher her to her dining room. He left her at the doorway of the private room. "He's been waiting for you, Miss," he said, smiling before walking away. He stood from his seat the moment she appeared, and walked toward her
The vigor of their lovemaking had sated them and made them hungry. Roy thought it would be nice if they could have their after-sex meal together, and Gina liked the idea. She would not come to lunch with her boss that hungry, either. As she was whipping something up in the kitchen for them to eat, from the other side of the kitchen countertop he said, "By the way, I’ve informed your boss of the unfortunate thing that happened to you last night." What? She stopped beating the eggs. He continued, unaware of her surprise, "He did not say much, but from the few questions he asked I could hear his immense anger through his quivering vo
She observed the good-looking man lying beside her. Roy was still fast asleep. He brought her to his place following her sweet promise of a night together —although she had offered her place, too. That was an odd choice to make, she thought. For a man who was after sex, he should have preferred the female counterpart's place instead, so he could leave when he wished —usually a dent on the pillows was all that was left as the evidence of his ever being there, or maybe fleetingly longer if there was a last-minute subsequent loving-act. She had thought the vain Roy was merely interested in sex and scoring a conquest. She was ok with that, liked it even. It would be a tango. Now, after the night of lovemaking, she caught a different vibe from him. Though not in clear terms, she was sure he was in love with her.&