Читать книгу Delirious - Daniel James Palmer - Страница 12

Charlie wore a blue pin-stripe Brooks Brothers suit with a solid red tie and carried his black leather Tumi briefcase in his right hand. His eyes were sunken and hollow from a stint of sleepless nights, but they showed no fear.

He moved confidently down the long carpeted hallway, passing the offices of several colleagues he knew without so much as a wave hello. Focus was everything. If it wasn’t related to the meeting—if it wasn’t reflecting on how he would enter, what he would say, every detail of his presentation—it wasn’t worth consideration. He needed complete and total control if he was to deliver what he believed would be a professional dismantling of Jerry Schmidt. It would be piece by piece. And it would be merciless.

The days leading up to the meeting had been a blur. They’d been a dim passage of what Charlie called blackout time, hours spent working so hard, he didn’t remember living them. He’d kept Monte at home and hired a service to come four times each day and into the night to take him for his walks. He had briefly thought about a kennel, but the idea of his dog being in lockdown had proved too unnerving.

During the exhausting days spent staring into the soft glow of his LCD monitor, sifting through mountains of raw data, Charlie had sunk his teeth deep into the problem, tearing it apart and rebuilding each argument until he was certain it was bulletproof, only to reassess every assertion at microscopic levels again. His appointments had been canceled, and he’d spoken to the Magellan Team only when absolutely critical.

Steady as a dull headache, persistent but not overpowering, Anne Pedersen had been the only distraction that seeped into his thoughts. The urge to seek her out and thank her for risking so much on his behalf had been compelling, but he’d managed to resist. E-mail and voice mail were risky, and he had good reason to be cautious about leaving an electronic paper trail. If everything played out the way he expected, Jerry Schmidt would be caught in a shit storm. Under no circumstances would Charlie supply ammunition that Jerry might use to take Anne Pedersen down with him. When InVision grew to greater prominence at SoluCent, Charlie would find a way to repay her kindness.

He arrived at the closed double doors, made from heavy, dark wood. He read the marble plaque on the adjacent wall: THE FALCON ROOM. He paused, let out a deep breath, reached forward, and grabbed the brass handle, pulling the door open and stepping inside.

Leon Yardley sat at the long conference table. He was hunched over, scanning through a shuffled mass of papers. He looked up and gave Charlie a queer, confused stare.

“Hi, Leon,” Charlie said. “Having a good day, I hope?”

Leon Yardley was a pale, thin man near seventy with a horseshoe head of silver hair. His forehead was sun-spotted from too many winters golfing in Boca. His neck was wiry with age and seemed physically incapable of holding up his head. Although Yardley lacked the physique to fill out his tailored suits, Charlie felt intimidated. He prickled at the notion of participating in one of Yardley’s meetings.

A shadow of the man whose pictures lined the hallways and conference rooms of SoluCent, Leon Yardley still spoke in a booming voice that belied his withering frame.

“Charlie,” Yardley said. “I didn’t realize you were attending.” His voice was husky and warm. Charlie observed Yardley fiddle with his Harvard class ring. He would twist the thick gold band back and forth around his spiny finger intermittently. Either it was an unconscious nervous habit, or the man wanted to reinforce his belief that Harvard outshined all other universities.

“I’ve had this meeting on my calendar for a week now,” Charlie said.

He had practiced the lie in his apartment several times that morning, even using Monte as a test audience. He had no margin for error. He had to be accepted and welcomed into the meeting as if he had belonged there all along. To do that required confidence and attitude, qualities Charlie possessed in abundance. If it played out the way he expected, Yardley and the others would assume that Charlie was supposed to be there and that someone had simply forgotten to update the agenda. In a company of twenty thousand employees, those mistakes happened.

Jerry Schmidt was in the room as well. He looked up at Charlie and then over to Yardley but didn’t say anything. He didn’t even acknowledge that Charlie was there.

“Well, it’s always good to have you,” Yardley said with polite sincerity. “Todd, you compiled the agenda. What is Mr. Giles here to discuss?”

Todd Cumberland, a junior vice president in marketing, stared at Charlie.

“InVision,” Charlie said. “I’m here to discuss InVision. What else?”

Jerry Schmidt perked up. Jerry had a round, expressive face, bushy brown hair, and squinting oval eyes that shifted and blinked constantly, as though he had just awoken and was adjusting his sight. Stuffed into a brown suit that had been in vogue years ago and wearing tan shoes in desperate need of a good polish, Jerry was at least fifteen pounds overweight. From what Charlie could tell, that didn’t bother him in the least. Charlie knew his type well—not an appearance guy, but an old-fashioned workhorse, who had built a sizable fortune through marketing savvy and diligent follow-through, not engineering brilliance, qualities that greatly contributed to the company’s bottom line and Yardley’s steadfast loyalty. Convincing Yardley to turn on Jerry was going to be an uphill climb.

“Don’t trust marketing to represent you, Charlie? Or did Mac tell you to come here and cover?” Jerry asked.

“I’m here on my own,” Charlie said. “Mac is out of town, so we didn’t have time to connect on my topic.”

Charlie’s boss, Simon “Mac” Mackenzie, was on vacation and wouldn’t be back for another few days. The timing, from Charlie’s perspective, could not have been better. He hadn’t worked for Mac long, but Charlie knew him well enough to know he would never have condoned such aggressive tactics. Fortunately, Mac had one quality that served Charlie’s mission well: the discipline to stay out of office affairs while on vacation.

Charlie settled into a vacant seat next to Todd and soaked up his surroundings. It took everything he had to suppress a childlike wonderment. It was a privilege to be invited to a meeting in the Falcon Room, and unheard of for new directors, such as Charlie, to be included in steering committee sessions. No doubt there had never been a gate-crasher before.

The Falcon Room was the epicenter of the most high-powered, important meetings at SoluCent. It was a museum of sorts, with floor-to-ceiling glass shelves that displayed the company’s distinguished history of product successes with a peacock’s flair. Charlie couldn’t help but notice that the wall behind Yardley’s seat was devoted exclusively to the VidOX gaming system, one of SoluCent’s flagship products. He knew that it wouldn’t be long before InVision eclipsed VidOX in product importance and secured its rightful place of prominence on the wall behind the company’s CEO and chairman of the board.

On the rare occasion when one of SoluCent’s major investors grew skeptical of the company’s direction or industry relevance, they had only to enter the Falcon Room for their opinions to change. The sea of blinking lights and illuminating glow from the two dozen brightly lit monitors dazzled away the doubts of even the harshest critic.

Over the next several minutes other executives shuffled into the meeting, some staring at their BlackBerrys, thumbs firing off e-mails, others chattering on cell phones, finishing conversations. Charlie noticed how none of them spoke to each other. It amused him how out of touch people became the higher they climbed. Charlie vowed never to lose touch with his employees when he made vice president.

As more executives entered the room and the seats around the conference table began to fill, Charlie’s confidence weakened, while his pulse quickened. He hadn’t realized the size of this meeting. The invite Anne Pedersen had forwarded didn’t contain the complete attendee list. As it turned out, everyone who was anyone at SoluCent was present.

Charlie cast aside his anxiety with the thought of what was at stake. He had no choice but to counterstrike before Jerry Schmidt could poison his future.

It was true that the move risked alienating him from the power source. If Leon Yardley disagreed with Charlie’s claims about how InVision would revolutionize SoluCent’s business, if he was dismayed by Charlie’s aggressive tactics, everything Charlie had worked so hard to achieve would be lost.

Charlie took a breath and reassured himself. He had no choice.

When everyone was seated, Leon Yardley spoke. “Ladies and gentlemen,” he began, “we have a full agenda, so I want to get started on time. For those of you who have not met Mr. Charlie Giles before, he is the wunderkind behind InVision. I’m sure you’ve heard me speak fondly of him.”

Charlie felt twenty pairs of eyes boring into him. His heart still raced. He kept rubbing his hands against the cool leather chair to wipe away the sweat from his palms.

“Hello, everyone,” Charlie said, greeting the room, hoping nobody noticed the slight waver in his voice.

“Naturally, Charlie is here to speak about InVision,” Yardley said. “But I must admit that I’m not entirely sure what topic he is here to cover.”

Megan Sullivan, vice president of North American sales, let out an audible sigh and asked, “Doesn’t Jerry have InVision on his agenda?”

“I do,” Jerry said. “But apparently Charlie has something he wants to say as well.”

Megan made it a point to look at her watch before responding. “Leon, I want to make sure we have time to discuss the MicroComp issue.”

“Of course, Megan,” Yardley said. “It’s foremost on my mind. Charlie, if it wouldn’t trouble you, since we have a full agenda and you’re somewhat of a surprise guest, we’ll give you five minutes or so to discuss your topic. Can you cover what you need to in that time?”

For a moment Charlie couldn’t look up. Is this how Harry Wessner felt when I confronted him about Arthur Bean? Trapped and terrified? Charlie hated feeling this out of control. The room seemed to dim, although nobody had adjusted the lights. Blood from his pumping heart pounded in his ears. Who was Charlie Giles to attack Jerry Schmidt in this way? Granted he was climbing the ladder, but he wasn’t on Jerry’s rung, at least not yet. And this was going to be a humiliating experience for Jerry. For a moment, Charlie almost felt sorry for the man.

Then he remembered what Jerry was here to do. He was here to shut down InVision.

You brought this fight to your door, Jerry, he thought.

Charlie pushed his chair away from the table and stood up. He made brief eye contact with each of the powerhouse attendees. He stayed quiet for a second, collected his nerves, then spoke with authority.

“Leon, I’ll be glad to take the floor for five minutes,” Charlie said.

“And what exactly are you talking about, Charlie?” Jerry asked.

“Well, Jerry,” Charlie said, “if you must know, my topic is you.”

That caused some commotion, a few laughs, and some sidebar conversations. Jerry Schmidt smiled, but it was nervous and forced.

“I’m confused,” Jerry said. “What do you mean, me?”

“Better to show you than to tell you,” Charlie said.

Inwardly Charlie smiled. The moment was his to control.