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“No. She’s been part roadblock and part bitch since the day I hired on.” Sloan sighs. “That’s why I wanted to talk to you away from the office. I know you’re trying to improve the organization, but I can’t help you do that if I can’t be honest.”
“No. Absolutely. I appreciate that. What did she say?”
“Oh, she wouldn’t even take my call. I wasn’t totally shocked when she didn’t answer right away because she’s told me point-blank in the past that my work ethic is daunting to some who feel the unrealistic expectation to perform at my level. She says my effort to go the extra mile isn’t appreciated.”
“What? She wants you to work less hard so you don’t make the employees around you feel bad?”
“Pretty much.”
I roll my eyes. That’s not the mentality at Stratus, and if we had an HR VP like that, she’d be fired. “That’s insane.”
“Right? So Meredith has her assistant call me to tell me she knows what I want and isn’t at liberty to speak about it, so I should stop calling.”
“For real?”
“I can’t make this stuff up…” Sloan sighs even harder. “Screw it. I’m pouring a glass of wine.”
“Sounds like you could use it.”
After some rustling, I hear the soft pop of a cork, followed by the clink of a glass. Liquid splashing follows. Then she sips and swallows.
“Better?” I ask.
“I wish. I don’t usually open wine on a Monday, but I want to shake all these VPs. After you and I talked on Friday night, I spent the weekend scouring that annual report. We should be in a far more liquid position. Mr. Rawson wouldn’t be happy that Shane is financing these secret projects and potentially jeopardizing the organization’s cash position. Frankly, more than one department is relying on improved funding next year. The R and D people alone need a boatload of money to keep up with those cutthroats over at Stratus.”
Cutthroats? We’re simply smart businessmen, damn it. “They’re competitors, right?”
“They’re more than that. For years, we’ve had this unspoken line in the sand. They typically handle the large-business market, so it made sense for them to have all these redundant, off-site servers for storing data. We catered to the home office and very small-business audience. So our on-site solutions, especially with the advances in solid-state technology, made sense for those customers. We only serviced a sizable business if they approached us first. But what did Satan—I mean, Evan Cook—and that swaggering asshole of a sidekick—” She snaps her fingers. “I can’t think of his name.”
She means me. “Asshole?”
“Yeah. He’s their CFO, technically. But he’s pretty much their corporate mouthpiece. Cook doesn’t like to make speeches, attend tech conferences, or give interviews for industry press, so this guy does it for him. He gave a presentation at an event I attended a few years back, I’m sure because he likes to hear himself talk. Thank god I was at the back of the room. I left as soon as it began. But you know what the asshole did?”
Came after the home and small-business market—like any good businessperson with two brain cells to rub together would. Evan and Stratus didn’t need Rawson’s or Sloan’s permission to do that. “What?”
“Jumped into our arena without warning. Full product suite, competitive pricing, ads everywhere…”
“And you weren’t happy about it?”
She scoffs. “Why come after our customers before improving the market penetration with their own first? It’s a threat to our bottom line, frankly at the worst possible time. And now Reservoir’s disappearing funds threaten to undo us altogether. And I’m the only one warning management that the sky is falling. I don’t understand.”
“First of all, don’t sweat Stratus. Competition happens, and all you can do is your best to compete. Reservoir is doing a good job,” I have to admit. “From the conversations I had with Bruce Rawson before he hired me”—well, from my own research, but whatever—“they’re holding their own in their original market segment while making inroads in the large-business market.”
“Modest inroads,” she corrects.
“It hasn’t been that long, and an on-site storage solution isn’t right for a lot of bigger companies, especially those with multiple branches or offices.”
“How would you know that?”
I wince. I’ve got to be fucking careful not to say things that would give my identity—and my whole scheme—away. “You’re not the only one who’s been doing their homework lately. Part of my effort to help you is to understand your industry.”
“Of course. I’m not thinking.”
“Still mad at Satan’s swaggering asshole of a sidekick?”
“I’d love to crush him. It’s on my to-do list.” She swallows back more wine. “But right now, I’m focused on all the VPs and their terrible stewardship of our corporate funds.”
Seriously, why doesn’t she just call her father and tell him what’s going on, maybe get his advice? I’m not sure, and that’s not my problem. Maybe my swagger and I can step in to fill the void.
