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One For The Road
Dafna’s body felt odd. Satisfaction, which went bone deep and painted the world a rosy pink. It had taken her awhile, but then she recognized the sensation—satiation.
She was at her office, supposedly having an urgent work meeting with Gil, the VP of research and development, one of Kisharti’s three founders. A thin dark man, who could never sit still, he received a phone call five minutes ago and was still talking. She stared out of her window at the green grass and tall chinaberries of the Yarkon park. She would have admonished Gil, but his rudeness allowed her to indulge in daydreaming, reliving last night.
Erez woke her at five am. She had fallen asleep in his arms, marveling at how natural she’d found it. He’d said he needed to get home to Tel Aviv but didn’t want her to think he’d slipped off. She sat up in bed and watched his muscular back, the tattooed waves rippling as he gathered his clothes. Maybe she had let the light summer blanket slide off a little. Maybe her boobs were out in the cool morning air. Maybe her nipples were hard.
He looked back at her and groaned. “Fuck it. One more time.”
“One for the road,” she answered, fired up as if last night hadn’t happened.
He crawled on the bed, raw hunger in his eyes. He made love to her as if he couldn’t get enough. As if he were going to war. His hot mouth had landed on her naked body. Shoulders, neck, light bites on her nipples because he’d discovered she liked it. Rushed and urgent, and just how she wanted it.
When they were done, he shook the box and smirked at her.
“Finished! You’re all out of condoms!”
As if he were jealous of anyone else using condoms in her bedroom. And then he added,
“I’ll be waiting for you, tomorrow evening – in the pub.”
Gil’s voice cut in, “Zoey can say she’s non-binary from here to eternity, but she and Nina are both women with less output than a man. We can’t afford them.”
“What did you say?” she asked Gil, shaking her head to clear it, unsure she’d heard right.
“You would have heard me if you listened. I said that I told Menni I’m thinking about getting rid of them.”
Menni was their CEO, one of the trio, the three men who met in the army, in unit 8200, and founded Kisharti.
“First, Zoey would like to be referred to as ‘they’.”
Dafna’s blood simmered close to the boiling point. Her anger wasn’t only because of the political incorrectness. This was Israel, after all, and niceties were often luxuries. But Gil had allowed himself to be politically incorrect to her, the VP of human resources. It undermined her authority. She fixed him with a hard stare, her voice controlled and neutral, not reflecting her fury.
“Second, what do you mean when you say, ‘output of a woman’? You designed Kisharti’s rigorous tests for the software engineers we hire. Both Nina and Zoey passed with flying colors.”
Seventeen software engineers made up Gil's R&D team. Fifteen men, Nina, who identified as a woman, and Zoey, who was a non-binary biological woman.
“Nina and Zoey hardly come to the office anymore. Also, look at the PIPs from the last three months.”
Checking the Performance Improvement Plan reports would be at the top of her agenda.
“I’ll look into it, Gil. You will not do anything before I’m satisfied I know what’s going on. Money may be tight, but not that tight. At the last management meeting, Menni said we’re getting an investment soon.”
“I know, I was there. We need to pass a due diligence first. How soon is soon?”
He had a point.
“Give me until the end of the month. That’s ten days. Then, if we need to, we’ll hold a hearing.”
He nodded and left, and she studied the PIPs. Zoey and Nina had regularly asked to work from home and their output had indeed fallen behind. Gil sat in the same room with his team, and as much as she didn’t like him, she knew he’d allow no improprieties. Zoey and Nina not showing up at the office wasn’t about sexual harassment. She pulled up recruitment onboarding reports. The only new factor was the arrival of a new engineer, a young man named Ori, like her son. She hadn’t met and interviewed him in person since he started as a freelancer and was still on his probation period.
She took her cup of coffee, her fourth of the day, but who counted, and walked the length of the offices to the R&D space. Kisharti rented offices from a shared space company and the décor leaned towards quirky—oversized bean bags at odd corners, and bold colored wall art.
Only four men occupied the large R&D room, three she knew, one she didn’t. It smelled stuffy, like a cheese store without air conditioning.
“Hi, I’m Dafna, VP of Human Resources. Welcome to Kisharti.” She smiled at the stranger.
“I’m Ori.” The young man was a little overweight and quite short, shorter even than her. He had a pleasant smile, a little shy. He got up and approached to shake her hand.
