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“Thanks for the bullshit advice, but you can keep it to yourself next time,” Ren retorted. “I’m not interested in running around and picking STDs like you.”
“I don’t have any STDs,” Tazeem protested.
“Yet!” Ren mocked.
“You’re just a hater,” Tazeem returned with a laugh.
Ren laughed too before asking, “How was Dar es Salaam?”
“It was great,” Tazeem said. “Saida is on top of everything there. She’s scored supply contracts with most of the high-end stores there, and she’s working on the HQ store now. I scouted the site, and it should be up and running by next month as we planned. I’m on my way to Dubai right now, and I’m hoping they’ve got their shit together too.”
“I doubt it,” Ren said. “Andrew just sent his new girlfriend’s brother there toassistBahij, and you know what that means.”
“Ugh!” Tazeem groaned. “Please tell me that this new dude at least has some experience in marketing.”
“I wish I could tell you that but I would be lying.” Ren sighed. “The dude has been in college studying for his Bachelor in Philosophy for the last eight years.”
“Fuck me!” Tazeem exploded. “A professional student?”
“Yeah, and living in his mother’s basement to boot!” Ren went on to update Tazeem on their boss’s latest bad decision.
Tazeem and Ren were both in upper management at Le Stride, a multinational designer, developer and seller of footwear. Their Executive Director, Andrew Mandell, was the grandson of the company’s deceased founder and a complete mess. He had no management acuity, was lazy, was spoilt, and preferred to spend his days partying with fellow rich kids. The only smart thing he’d done was leave Tazeem and Ren to run the company for him. Apart from the occasional arbitrary bad hire, Andrew was completely hands-off, which was great for everyone.
After discussing how they’d take care of this latest gaff, the two friends moved on to a different topic.
“How far have you gotten with the show?” Tazeem asked.
The ‘show’ was one of Le Stride’s annual events where they partnered with clothing designers and hosted a big shindig to promote their shoes.
“It’s all good,” Ren said. “The bids for the event planners are in.”
“Anyone I know?”
“I can send you a list later,” Ren offered. “But the lowest bid is from Synovent. You know them, right?”
Synovent! Tazeem’s breath immediately caught at the name, and his heart began to beat faster. Yeah, he knew Synovent.
“They’re good,” Ren continued, unaware of the havoc he’d caused, “but I’m thinking we should go with Drummond. We’ve worked with Drummond before and they were okay-”
“Take Synovent,” Tazeem cut in abruptly.
“What? Why?” Ren frowned. “Do you know them?”
“Something like that,” Tazeem hedged. “Do you mind if I take the project off your shoulders? I can handle it once I’m done with Dubai.”
“No, I don’t mind, but...” Ren looked even more confused. “You normally don’t get involved in this kind of stuff. I tried to get you on board this thing weeks ago and you told me that you’d rather stab your eye with a needle than hang around snooty designers. What’s changed? Why do you suddenly want the project? What aren’t you telling me?”
“There’s nothing to tell.”
But that made Ren even more suspicious. His eyes narrowed in suspicion. “I smell a rat. Spill it, Khan?”
Tazeem didn’t want to talk about the reason for his interest in Synovent. So he offered a cryptic, “Let’s just say that there’s something very interesting in Synovent.”
Ren’s eyes said that he had more questions, but after watching Tazeem for a long minute, he shrugged. “Okay then. I never say no to less work for me. Knock yourself out.”
The two friends talked a while more before Ren claimed he had better things to do (code for porn-watching) and ended the call.
Tazeem sat back in his seat with a grin. This was awesome. He finally had a way into Synovent.
