Chapter Two
My tardiness on Friday morning had nothing to do with Thursday night's events. Since the company initiated "dress-up Friday," I initiated "arrive-late Friday." Although I had climbed into a suit every day for over ten years, I was no longer comfortable with the rituals of achieving full business attire. Even dressed and accessorized, speed was still not a viable option. High-heeled shoes, now unfamiliar to my feet, further impeded my progress.
As on every Friday for the last three months, I was running late when the parking lot gate, still intact, responded to my keycard. By the time the sun came up, I had dismissed the previous night's odd events as a joke. Not a very funny joke but a joke, nonetheless. An elaborate, well-planned prank. I had decided to be a good sport about it. Okay, I had decided to pretend to be a good sport about it. I'm not a fan of practical jokes - especially when I am the victim. Given the news All About E-games released yesterday, things were going to be tense enough at the office without my taking offense at a trick that turned out to be harmless.
I parked next to Kim's oversized jeep with the vanity plate BIG DEAL. The license described both her activities and her self-image. It wasn't until I found the office eerily quiet that I recalled the young woman had lost her keys and left her car in the lot overnight. I was the first to arrive.
Most mornings Anthony called out an absent-minded greeting but that day the office remained silent. I figured the game developer had taken his usual morning break to visit the coffee shop where he ate all his meals. For the first time I realized Anthony must control the office thermostat. The air was chilly as I limped through toys, games and exercise equipment in the play area to my office. So far I'd walked no more than two hundred yards total and already my shoes were killing my feet.
Not all my pain was physical. The events of the previous day sat on my shoulders like a five hundred pound boulder. I pondered the company's and my own future as I settled into the molded piece of plastic that Archibald Lee deemed cool enough for an office chair. Every morning I wondered if he had actually sat on the alarmingly expensive furniture before he made the purchase. He was astute enough that he didn't put one of the pieces in his office. The rest of us suffered for his image.
I'd finished my coffee and muffin, run through my early morning routine, and perused the SLA directory for job-search contacts before anyone else arrived. The good news that morning was that there was no bad news. The lack of negative information did not guarantee that the day would be easy. Yesterday's disaster still loomed large.
Kim was the next arrival. She stopped at my door to explain that losing her keys made her late. She had taken the bus to work.
"You should have called me. I would have picked you up."
Kim appeared at first puzzled and then thoughtful. "Yes, that would have made sense, wouldn't it?" She issued a terse smile, returned her facial muscles to their usual scowl, and moved on to her office.
I watched Kim cross the play area with long purposeful strides. Kim liked doing business development for Risk-eGames. She just didn't like Risk-eGames - or its employees. She'd come from Wall Street. She'd fought hard to get there. Never forgetting that her grandmother scrubbed floors to put her through school, Kim worked hard to honor the woman's memory. Kim moved fast and produced results. Risk-eGames was a major disappointment for the hard-driving businesswoman. Not that Kim shared her views with me. But I knew Kim and I knew Risk-eGames. Kim wasn't about to waste her time - and it was beginning to look like we all were. I'd been at the company for over a year reassuring myself daily that we would have a product next month. We'd gotten close. At one point if you'd visited our web site you could have enjoyed watching the screen flash LOADING indefinitely. That development pretty much told the Risk-eGames story.
I was wrapping a shawl around my suit jacket when Victor arrived at my office door. I started at the sight of the marketing VP leaning against my door jam. "I didn't see you come in. This morning. Or now. Sorry."
Victor shrugged. Unlike me, Victor appeared to relish dress-up Friday. Aside from the bags under his eyes that said he hadn't gotten much sleep, Victor looked impeccable. Not good - but extremely well turned out. His suit was a shiny silk blend that turned from black to blue as he moved in the light. His shirt was white, high collared and so heavily starched that he inserted a finger between the collar and his neck every few minutes to prevent chaffing. His cufflinks and his wedding ring sparkled with diamonds. When, on dress-up Friday, Victor added his flamboyant collection of suits and ties to his everyday look of overly moussed hair and big jewelry, he resembled a gangster even more than he did most days.
Victor had asked for research on several companies and individuals before he made eye contact. "I'm sorry if I'm being a bit . . . well if I'm not . . . I am feeling very tense after what happened yesterday." Victor's edge was growing softer - but I bet it could still cut. "I have a family. I took a huge gamble coming here. I can't afford to have something like this happen repeatedly. I mean once maybe . . . but this isn't the first time. We've been so close. That bug in the last release. How could that have happened? It was impossible. I don't think Anthony is that dumb. It was sabotage. It had to be."
Paranoia? I'd seen symptoms of the disease in Victor before. He often hinted that I didn't give his research requests priority, that he believed that Eduard and Kim were in collusion to oust him, and that Archibald liked everyone better than him. Actually, I thought he was right on that last point.
"I thought I was willing to take a chance but I didn't really believe it could fail." Victor dabbed sweat from his forehead with a monogrammed handkerchief. "I need this to work. This has to work. I can't afford too much more time without return."
We hadn't forced Victor to accessorize his life with a trophy house, a trophy wife and two so-far adorable children that he was trying to mold into reflections of his own material success. My tone was not sympathetic. "We're all in the same boat, Victor."
"Sure." He sounded bitter and unbelieving.
Although each employee of Risk-eGames faced tragedy from boarding a sinking ship, I had the feeling Victor's boat was taking on water faster than the others'.
Victor shivered. From the unusual cold in the office or from fear? I wasn't sure but to eliminate the possibilities I asked him to check the thermostat on his way back to his office.
Minutes later Kim showed up at my door to express her most recent annoyance. "I can't believe Eduard isn't here yet. You would think today -- of all days -- he could drag himself out of bed and get here at a reasonable hour. We are in a state of crisis. I am ready to act." Having made the pronouncement she charged back to her office nearly knocking down Catrina in the process.
"What's her problem?" Catrina remained bright-eyed and optimistic in the face of adversity - partially because of an extremely upbeat personality and partly because of ignorance. The young designer had no concept of the damage done by yesterday's events.
"Catrina, everyone here is worried about their livelihood. What happened yesterday is devastating to the company. We are all concerned about the future."
"There are other jobs." Catrina chirped. Not just then -- all the time. She was short and muscular with big round eyes and cheeks to match. She dressed in flowing pastel dresses - generally flowered. Her physical presence screamed naïve.
I didn't argue with Catrina's view of the job market. Her claim was true for new graduates looking for entry-level positions. The other Risk-eGames employees, however, had given up a lot in the hopes of a big payoff. "Kim left a really good job at a New York firm. Victor left a product manager position at a Fortune 100 manufacturing company. Eduard turned down a lot of good offers when he got out of business school to come here." "Anthony can get a job anytime he wants."
That was true -- now. But how could he explain what happened at Risk-eGames? Or more importantly what didn't happen. Anthony insisted on doing it all -- from content to design to coding. He got all the glory, but he also took all the blame.
As for the rest of us, it wasn't simply a question of when we would land appropriate positions. We'd all been at the firm at least a year. We needed to be compensated for the time we'd spent at Risk-eGames. I wasn't about to tell Catrina that I was taking only a minimal payment in cash and the rest in equity. If that equity didn't prove to have value, I, like everyone else, would have lost money at the start-up.
Kim was back at my door exceeding her normal daily visit average by 100%. I greeted her with a forced camaraderie. "I was just talking to Catrina about yesterday's developments. Kim, what do you make of this turn of events?"
"I refuse to worry. I always know what to do and how to do it. We will survive and flourish." She shrugged. "We will overcome this problem. The market is still there." She eyed her $3,000 watch. "Where's Eduard? I expect this of Archibald. Our noble founder and CEO is probably competing in some stupid skateboarding competition. Anthony was probably here all night fiddling with his programs. He's entitled to a break. You know how he gets."
To my mind, it wasn't a question of "how he gets." It was more about "how he is." Even when he was physically present, I was never quite sure where Anthony was. Anthony's family wanted him to be a doctor. Thank goodness the game developer decided against a career in medicine. Acing medical school would have been no problem. But practicing? He probably would have wondered off in the middle of surgery and forgotten where he left the patient. His father actually knew that and as a last ditch effort tried to talk him into being a pathologist. If he worked as a medical examiner his patients would already be dead. But I figured he could still lose them. I think Anthony made a good decision to follow his passion for computers. I also agreed with Kim's assessment that irresponsible behavior was expected from Anthony but not from Eduard.
Kim continued to rant. "I can understand Anthony's absence. But Eduard? This isn't like Eduard. He's late. He's never late."
I protested, "He's always late." Not that Eduard saw it that way. He felt he was on time at 11AM. Eduard had an active social life - at least according to Eduard.
"He said he'd present his plan for counteraction first thing this AM."
"First thing in the AM for Eduard is eleven. I wouldn't worry."
"Not today of all days. I can't believe Eduard would be so irresponsible." Annoyance came naturally to Kim. She could inject a liter of annoyance into a sentence with only a milliliter of effort.
"Eduard is not irresponsible. He cares a lot. Just the other night I went out after work and came back to pick up my car. I saw Eduard leaving the office at 2AM. That's not irresponsible." Catrina barely suppressed the rage in her voice but - and I know this is hard to understand - it was still a cheerful rage.
Kim directed a hard stare at Catrina and then proceeded as if the young woman hadn't spoken. "I'm going to get Victor. Why don't we start the meeting without Eduard? If he can't bother getting here . . ." Her voice trailed off. "Isabella, why don't you sit in?"
My brow grew furrowed. Kim never treated me or my function with any respect. I didn't take it personally. Kim never actually treated anyone with any respect. She flashed one of her insincere smiles. "Research will be such an important part of this effort."
I knew that. I just couldn't believe Kim knew that. The woman never seemed to realize anyone's value but her own.
"We're meeting in the conference room. Eduard was going to put the agenda on the board. We don't have to wait for him. Go ahead in. I'll get Victor and join you."
Catrina's voice was relentlessly upbeat as she inquired. "Should I join you too?"
Kim considered the young woman with a scowl on her face. As the muscles relaxed, she almost smiled. "Why not? If it's okay with your boss." "Anthony isn't here. I'm sure it will be okay."
I, too, was fairly sure it would be okay with Anthony. Archibald had forced an assistant on our FunMeister, as Archibald liked to call Anthony. Anthony didn't care what Catrina did as long as she didn't interfere with his work. He'd be happy if we kept Catrina busy at a meeting all day every day.
Catrina looked at me eagerly. "That was nice of her."
"Yeah." I answered doubtfully. Maybe a crisis brought out the best in Kim. I watched her step into Victor's office and urge him to hurry. Then she returned to our own office to gather her papers.
I picked up my notebook and with Catrina in tow headed for the conference room.
"Aren't you going to wear shoes?" The young woman nodded at my feet. The high-heeled shoes were still under the desk.
"Suddenly we have a dress code?"
"No way. I just think it's cold to go barefoot in here today. Don't you think?"
I didn't think so then but I didbut I did think when my foot hit a wet spot on the carpet in front of the conference room door. "Wow, cold." I yelped as I stepped inside our small meeting room.
"What's wrong?" Catrina sounded inappropriately concerned.
"Nothing . . . except . . .what the . . . all the windows are open in here." The three windows in the room were flung wide open to admit the chill air. That was when I spotted him at the head of the conference room table with his head on the shiny wood surface.
"Hey, Sleeping Beauty. It's time to rise and shine." I turned my back to close each of the windows. "I guess you figured keeping these windows open would keep you awake. Good theory, it just didn't work." I glanced over my shoulder. "Come on. We're going to start the disaster-control meeting."
At the door, Catrina leaned against the doorjamb. "You're being too polite." She walked over, grabbed his left shoulder and shook playfully. His left hand fell from the tabletop towards the floor. The sun reflected off the face of his Rolex.
Catrina stood with a puzzled expression on her face before trying again.
"He won't wake up?" My expression had not yet changed from puzzled to concerned.
Catrina leaned across the man's broad back for a look at his face. For the first time since I met her, Catrina's expression lost any trace of optimism. I followed her gaze to a large bruise with a small cut on the man's right cheek.
"Isabella, he isn't going to wake up. Not now. Not ever."
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