Big Time

Six

John arrived at his desk five minutes before nine a.m. with a Starbucks in hand. He was greeted by a list of unread emails, which he went through one after another. Normally he then found time to read the Wall Street Journal at his desk, but not this morning.

An email from Kevin, who was the global head of mergers and acquisitions and Rob’s boss, was direct and to the point:

"John, The management committee will need to approve any deal to buy Wellco before it can go ahead. If you could present the financials tomorrow at 3:00 p.m. Make sure you cover off all the legal and tax risks. See you then."

John went into Rob’s office and enquired whether he’d seen the summons.

Rob looked up from the letter he was writing longhand and clicked on his IBM computer. John knew from experience that Rob rarely looked at his email, still relying on the telephone to conduct business.

Rob read it and smirked. “This is your chance, Sport. I think you’re ready to do this one by yourself.”

“You’re not coming?” John’s voice revealed his disappointment.

“I’ll leave it to you.”

John stood there thinking how best to play this. He’d feel a lot better with Rob by his side. “You’ve always been better at the politics than me,” John suggested, trying to play to his boss’s good side.

“I’m beyond all that, so you better learn fast,” said Rob good-naturedly.

“So am I,” retorted John, cheekily.

Rob chuckled. “Unfortunately, this is the price of being successful. You’ll do great and it will be good for you to have more visibility with senior management.”

This both was and wasn’t what John wanted to hear.

As if reading his mind, Rob continued. “You gotta be more careful with what you wish for.”

John wasn’t looking forward to walking into the lion’s den without him.

John had the team work till midnight on the presentation. He even made Penny stay back to help with the typing and pagination. It wasn’t necessary, but John was stressed and wanted all hands on deck. She was officially Rob’s personal assistant, but looked after John as well. She had long dark hair, a sharp wit and artsy flair.

When 2:50 p.m. arrived the next day, John picked up the presos, ready to go.

“Have fun,” Penny said playfully.

“Do you want to go in my place?” John asked, raising his eyebrows.

“Wouldn’t be any fun without you.”

John smirked, his nerves leaving him for a moment. He and Penny had exchanged light-hearted flirting, masquerading as banter for years now. About his age, Penny was petite and attractive in an ordinary way. Even if it hadn’t been a bit close to home, John would never consider dating her. She wasn’t his type, and while quick-witted, she lacked that je ne sais quoi that appealed to him.

The meeting was being held on the top floor. John arrived promptly to find an empty meeting room. Three sides were plastered with expensive paintings. The fourth looked onto an atrium, where the bank’s trading floor sat below. A mahogany boardroom table, seating 18, sat empty.

John peered into the abyss. Terraced rows of traders and salespeople were yelping on the phone, hollering orders to various stock exchanges or huddled, drinking coffee. They were a bunch of fear-driven, foul-mouthed, sweating jocks in overdrive. Mac came to mind and John smirked at the thought.