Awakening, 2nd edition (5 page)

This time Dan nodded in full understanding.

Joan

In the long-awaited quiet of her office, Joan could finally have her minute of relaxation. The long day had been quite tough. The firing —or, as they say in business language, ‘the employment termination procedure ’—towards the end didn ’t make it any easier.

She lowered herself into her black leather—look chair.

Stewart is definitely too green for this. In front of him sits a six -foot -tall bloke who ’s been told at least a hundred times to stop resting and start working. And now this slacker sits there and in plain English informs Stewart that he ’s not going anywhere because he—imagine that—wasn ’t given any advance notice. Never mind that he has nothing to support this claim beyond his height, jaw, gruff voice , and impudence. And instead of ignoring this nonsense and telling the bloke to take a hike, this softie Stewart all of a sudden starts mumbling about corporate policies, pointing apologetically at unsatisfactory performance, and simply behaving like a schoolboy caught cheating . So then there ’s nothing left but to step in, lose the “I ’m-so-sorry ” face and tell this six -foot lazy-ass all the things that Stewart was supposed to tell him.

Although in all fairness, that was the entire purpose of her being here ; f or cases like this. You can ’t ask too much of Stewart, after all. He ’s been wearing his shiny ‘manager hat ’ for less than three months. Still figures out the right way to behave. One day he ’s their best buddy, another day he ’s asking for permission to give directions, and the third day he ’s threatening them in a hopeless attempt to intimidate. The guy needs to learn. And this takes time. Everything will come with experience. A couple of these ‘termination procedures ’ and he ’ll be good at it or will at least be able to do an acceptable job. Or won ’t—some never make it. He might be one of those weeping softies. Time will tell. Worst case, there will be one less manager on the team next year.

It was funny to see that bloke’s reaction when she intervened . His granite jaw literally moved down and hung there for a second in a total astonishment. He surely wasn ’t used to that kind of talk. Let alone coming from her. Until now , he had met her only in hallways where she always had a charming smile and a caring question for her employees. Cute and harmless. So cute and so harmless, that in their chitchat behind her back they ’ve been calling her , “Our Barbie ”—and not only because of her blue eyes and blond hair . So when Barbie ’s eyes suddenly become icy and her cute lips coldly announce that it ’s too late, it has a significant effect .

The bloke proved to be not completely stupid. Within a minute he had lowered his tone, two minutes later he apologized, and three minutes later he was already talki ng about kids needing to be fed and a mortgage that must be paid. He even went as far as asking Stewart for another (“Last, really the last!”) chance. Poor six -footer—he was too naive to understand who made the decision s . And when , at the end , she threw in a bit of sympathy and asked him a few questions about the kids, he melted down completely and looked at her as if she was his best ally. And that was smart, for it ’s always better to choose your enemies yourself. It ’s Stewart the Softie who will go down as the bad guy in the bloke ’s memory. Her name , on the other hand, will always be recalled with respectful admiration.

And then after the handshaking and goodbye s came the moment when both of them—the bloke and Stewart—stood next to each other and stared at her back as she walked towards the stairs. It wasn ’t clear what they discussed at that particular point , or whether they had any discussion at all, but she was absolutely certain that they stood there and stared at her like a couple of lovesick bulls. All men are the same. You can be a not -too -bright bloke or his MBA-bearing manager, but you ’re still a man. Boys will be boys , and there ’s nothing they can or want to change about it . . .

Yes, it’s been a tiring day , by all accounts . But during this day she ran into Randall in a hallway. Into Randall himself. And Randall himself walked away completely charmed by her business insights. Or by her smile. Or by their combination. Who cares what exactly it was. All that matters is that he left utterly charmed by something she had to offer.

She gazed around thoughtfully. It took her almost five years to climb the ladder and reach this point. Almost five years to get hold of this share of power . . . Quicker than it takes many. Longer than it takes some. And there are so many steep steps ahead to climb. The top of the corporate pyramid is shrouded in clouds and one can ’t see through them even from this otherwise very desirable office. At times, thunder roars from behind the clouds or an important face emerges in a rare gap. Sometimes it even turns out that the people who live up there have heard about her. It is no longer a thick, completely impenetrable layer of clouds, which is all that the thousands of people in the trenches down there ever get to see. Yet the life above the clouds is still beyond her reach. So it ’s too early to relax. Too early. . .

A phone ring abruptly ended her thoughts.

“Joan Porter speaking, ” she said in a neutral tone that could seamlessly switch between dry, interested, mentoring, or excitedly respectful depending on the caller.

“Oh, hi, Sheldon! How are you? Yes, it ’s a good time. How did it go? Not bad, not bad at all. Stewart, just as I expected, ran into problems managing the conversation so I had to intervene and straighten things out . It ’s over now—th e man is no longer with the company. You were absolutely right ; w e have to be tougher with them. It ’s unacceptable what people like this Hoptorn do. First , they only pretend to work, then they ignore all the feedback we give them , and when we have no choice but to fire them they have the nerve to whine. Come to think of it, I ’ll ask all my managers to involve me as soon as they see the first signs of poor performance. Then it won’t be taking as long to deal with cases like this . Oh, thank you! Thank you, Sheldon. Stop by your office? Right now? Sure. No, it ’s all right. See you in a few.”

Joan slowly returned the handset to the cradle. Looks like she won ’t be able to go home after all . But if your manager asks you to stop by his office urgently , “For an important matter , ” it is wise to accept the invitation. She took out a pocket mirror, critically explored her face, lightly re touched her lips with lipstick, fixed a ringlet that was out of place and, having straightened her strict business suit, left the office.

Ross

“So,” Ross looked around the room, “we all understand the problem. How do we proceed?”

They remained silent. They always remained silent. You had to encourage them, cheerlead them, challenge them, question them. Then slowly , one by one , like some sleepy flowers in the morning , they bothered to open their mouths and speak up. “You have to be more proactive!” he kept telling each of them during their one-on-one discussions. “You need to show more initiative, more drive. Don’t forget about the great responsibility you have!” They listened, they nodded in agreement, they smiled. But at the staff meetings they still preferred to remain silent. He had been their manager for nearly six months now, but so far he couldn’t get them out of this permanent state of apathy. They had too much legacy. And , frankly, too much mistrust for him.

Not that it was his top priority. The work was getting done, at times even with noteworthy efficiency and speed ; all deadlines were being met , and on a couple of occasions even beaten ; problems, at least the visible ones, were taken care of, and all the difficulties that his predecessor used to complain about had somehow vanished . . .

And Ross knew, knew very well, that this was exactly what mattered to those above him. The numbers, the deadlines, the expenses, the quickly resolved problems. This —and not the sour , dull faces that hung before his eyes now like some old cantaloupes. He didn’t change three groups in two years for nothing.

The corporation was huge and he had completely mastered the art of profitable position—jumping. Every position he took was noticeably higher than the previous one. Higher and better. And a significant success factor of this art was an ability to ignore the painful details that kept managers who took it too seriously awake at night. Those naive managers cared about their teams and in turn expected their people to follow them everywhere , for better or for worse. But he knew better than this. He knew all too well that the real success was rooted in something entirely different.

“We have to prioritize,” Broomer broke the silence. “We can’t do everything at once.”

Ross nodded.

“Of course we can't. The question is how do we assign priorities?”

They all slid back into silence.

“Come on. Any suggestions? I know you have them. Take a look at the list.”

Obediently, they all turned their heads towards the whiteboard.

“The second one looks more important,” Harris said carefully.

“I think the first one should stay on top,” immediately objected her neighbor.

“And why is that?” the level of certainty in Harris’s tone jumped up noticeably. “Since when have they become a more important client?”

“Since they started paying us good money.”

“Aha . . . And nobody pays us,” responded Harris, her voice full of poisonous irony.

“Others pay less and not as often.”

“What are you talking about?” rushed in Jacobs. “We’ve got a government order this time. No question that it should go on top. At the moment it’s number four , for whatever reason.”

“The government,” snorted Harris. “Give me a break. Those bureaucrats will flood us with their stupid paperwork, procedural requirements and extra inspections. It’s a hell of a job to satisfy them. We can finish all the others quicker than this one.”

“You can finish three orders quicker than one? Su-u-ure . . .”

“Yes, I can. I’ve worked with them.”

“Who hasn’t?”

“You, for instance.”

“What?”

“Never mind, never mind,” Ross said pacifyingly. “You are all great experts and I value your opinions. So, let’s see where this gets us.”

He walked over to the whiteboard.

“The first item remains unchanged, right? Does everybody agree? Done. The department’s order moves up to second place. Any concerns? No? Done. Now what do we do with the rest? We have to sort them as well. Ideas?”

But they had already moved back into their silent mode. The moment was gone.

That afternoon , while walking into the underground garage , Ross saw two office workers hunched together in front of him.

“Same thing again—he just can’t make a damn call,” a familiar voice reached his ears mixed with a smell of cheap cigarettes. “It’d kill him to act just once like a man. Makes you wonder—”

At this point, the man heard the steps and broke off.

“See you tomorrow, Broomer,” Ross said affably. “Don’t work too hard.”

He smiled his genial smile at the two smokers, the smile that lit up his full , round face, and went to his car—a stocky , solid figure in a dark quality raincoat. Let them gossip. True, he doesn’t like making decisions. True, at times his democratic approach lacks managerial resoluteness. Perhaps, it’s even an area of improvement for him. He isn’t perfect. But his management is always pleased. Always. No exceptions. He knows how to build management’s trust. He knows how to squeeze good results out of his teams and , even more importantly, how to present these results. He can take a mediocre team, quickly turn it into a productive one , and keep it as such for some time.

Yes, his ways may result in some long-term damage, but in the short term there’s nothing but benefits. And although he had worked in four groups already and had been rising quickly, he ’d succeeded in making no enemies. And it was he, he and no one else, who was handpicked to participate in this extremely important course—a course that draws attention in very high places and that will undoubtedly propel his career even further.

Paul

“Any chance you can actually do some homework before bringing a proposal to me? Just for kicks . . . Or is the entire concept of thinking totally foreign to you? Why do you keep bringing me your stuff without verifying it first?”

“But Paul, this isn’t hopeless—”

“Isn’t hopeless?! Who said I need something that ‘isn’t hopeless?’ Leave ‘isn’t hopeless’ for your girlfriend , or your wife , or whoever you’ve got! I need cr isp, I need bulletproof, I need excellent! That’s what I need . That’s what this project needs. And not the kind of ‘isn’t hopeless ’ crap you’ve been bringing to me! You show up with something like this again and you better start looking for a new job. Is that clear?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Then I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Paul gloomily watched the door closing. What an idiot! And they ’re all like this. Out of nearly two hundred people , no more than thirty are worthy of something. It’d be so nice to get rid of those mediocrities, keep just the core team of trusted pros and hire some new blood. But no. You have to play this stupid game of respecting the company’s past. You have to think about P-E-O-P-L-E. Never mind that the last time these people had used their brains was at their college finals. And even that was highly questionable.

The phone rang demandingly. Paul gave it a heavy look. Who the hell is that now?

“Yes.”

“Paul?”

“Steve . . . What’s up?”

“I see that you’re in a great mood. Again.”

“I’m good.”

“Yes, I can hear that. Listen, stop by my office now, will you? We need to talk.”

Having stepped into his manager’s office, Paul plunged into the soft , spacious armchair that only a few visitors had the courage to try out , and sourly stared at the ceiling.

“What is it now?” enquir ed Steve, watching this habitual pantomime.

“Same as usual.”

“Let me guess. Your people?”

“Bingo.”

“You’re once again not satisfied with their performance.”

“Can you drop your HR speak for a moment? What’s there to be satisfied with? They suck! They don’t think. A good half of them can’t think! Why did you guys have to give me this bunch?”