“Because we have to assume Wobbegong knows our launch date.”
“So?” he says.
The answer comes from Scarlett. “Only a fool would assume they won’t use that information against us.”
Did she just call Ramesh a fool? I hurry out my conclusion before he notices her insult. “Which is why we need to bring the launch date forward.”
Ramesh throws his arms up, then brings his palms down on the table with a smack. “How?” he says. “We’re already working flat-out trying to bring this in weeks ahead of our original schedule.” He glares at each one of us in turn, his eyebrows bristling over dark, narrowed eyes.
I haven’t even gotten to our busted marketing strategy, and already the meeting is descending out of control.
The door to the office starts to open. I raise my voice. “I’m sorry, I’m…” But I never get to the wordbusy.
Anders steps in.
My jaw drops, and words evaporate from my brain. I’m not the only one. Around the table, no-one moves. No one speaks.
Anders’s eyes travel over each one of us in turn. The significance of those present is not lost on him. His gaze lands on me.
“Where is Piotr?” he asks.
Everybody looks at me.
“She sacked him on Friday,” Ramesh growls. “Didn’t she tell you?”
“Please, could everyone give us a minute?” I ask as calmly, though my heart is pounding like it’s playing the1812 Overture.
Chloe grabs her things and scrambles for the door. The others rise with more dignity and file out. Last to leave is Scarlett, who has a delighted look on her face, even though she doesn’t venture a word. Clearly, she’s still no fan of mine, despite her promotion.
They pass Anders with muttered greetings, and he responds to each in turn, but his eyes never leave mine. When the room is finally empty, he closes the door.
As he turns to face me, I say, “How are you here?”
“I caught a plane last night. I was going to surprise you, but I guess the boot is on the other foot.”
I ignore the comment. “Who is looking after your dad?”
“My sister and one of Greg’s buddies is coming in to help Mom with the farm work. Now your turn.”
My heart stops beating and drops into my stomach. I study my boss. He’s looking better than he has all last week. There are still signs of fatigue, a strain around his eyes, but the deep exhaustion has eased. His clothes are slightly rumpled; he must have slept in them on the plane and come straight from the airport.
“What’s going on here?” he prompts.
It’s only been just over a week since he left, but so much has happened. For a moment I don’t know where to start. Then it all comes pouring out of me in excruciating detail. To be honest,it’s a relief. It feels like I’m transferring my burden to broader shoulders.
“So I called a meeting this morning,” I say in conclusion. “We need a new partnership manager, a new launch date, and a new marketing strategy. But Ramesh just spontaneously combusted at the mention of a new launch date.”
Finally, I stop talking.
Anders sits down. “Fuck,” he says. And that one word is imbued with total devastation.
Except I don’t know what he’s condemning. Is it me, or Piotr, or the situation? I swallow nervously and await my fate.
He stands up again. Lacing his fingers together, he puts them behind his head as he paces about the office.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” he says. He sits and is silent for several moments. I let him be. It can’t be often Anders is so catastrophically wrong. He trusted Piotr, promoting him to head of a sector. That’s a big misjudgement. It must be an immense shock to his system, learning he can be so fallible.
Finally, he says, “Who’s going through Piotr’s emails and files?”
