Mia answered, “Looks like we don’t define what a lie is in the same way. I’d say a lie is an attempt to trick or deceive someone, the creation of a false impression that benefits the liar somehow. A story is a narrative, the description of a series of events. Might be true, might be imagined. They are similar, but a lie makes an unbridgeable gap between audience and teller, the liar never wanting their artifice questioned and exposed. On the other hand, story thrives on analysis, comparison, and close examination. Some wouldn’t agree, but I like thinking at least some Biblical stories are fiction. Because that would absolutely validate the value of fiction. True stories that never happened. There are some people who say certain portions of the Bible are fiction — perhaps the story of Job or the Song of Solomon, and possibly the parables where Jesus says ‘a certain man,’ a specific name not given. Jesus showed how to make a difficult truth understandable for people by telling a parable, a story. I am absolutely convinced that there are times when fiction will be the best method for telling the truth. ”
At the front door of the iCon lobby, Chase ducked his head slightly to pass through the doorway and said, “Mia, you really are tenacious, aren’t you. I see I haven’t convinced you to accept my point of view or change your mind in any way. I will concede the point to you, for today.”
He saluted her as if they had been dueling as they crossed the white travertine floor. On the far side of the lobby, Chase pressed the button to call for the reserved express elevator (the one next to the minion elevator) that stopped only at the sixth floor where the executive offices are. “Come up to my office. I have a proposal for you. A favor to ask.”
11 | Dress
The exterior glass wall of the express elevator provided an overlook on the quietly grazing buffalo herd as they moved across the rolling hills in the re-created prairie with native grasses and flowers, complete with an artificially created pond that was home to Canada geese and assorted ducks that iCon had put in four years ago. There were no houses, roads, or farms to be seen (iCon had taken them all out), no signs of civilization to be seen in this direction for five thousand acres. Mia appreciated this look back into the North America’s past, especially the bison. Chase told her they were expecting five or six calves to be born, starting in April. Mia was surprised to hear there was a bison wrangler in charge of the herd, his duties included periodically rotating the location of their pasture.
“Their instinct to migrate is powerful,” Chase said. “Rather than leaving them in one place until they are tempted to trample their way out, we have the prairie fenced into paddocks, then move the herd periodically. If any ever escape and get out, they would have to be put down. Bison aren’t as docile and don’t react the way cattle do and cannot be easily managed once they get out of where they belong. So to avoid potential trouble, we make sure they stay fenced in, under control by managing their instincts. Once we have a large enough herd, we plan to slaughter and dress out a limited number of the animals each year, offering buffalo meat in the cafe downstairs, selling any extra to market.” Chase paused. “This operation will never be more than a hobby for the corporation, so to speak, in so far as it affects iCon’s bottom line. But it’s a good thing to diversify, even in such a small way, in the business of buying and selling.”
The elevator door opened onto the sixth floor, which Mia had never visited before. Although the top floor of the HQ was smaller in area than the lower five floors, it looked like a larger space, not divided into departmental sections and without the expansive hallways running the length of the level as was the case on the floors below. There were windows facing east and west — the view to the east was the parking lot, the view to the west was the emptiness of the re-constructed prairie with its herd of buffalo. Flanking both sides of the elevator, the center of the expansive area was occupied by the Marketing Department, with rows of cubicles filled with people chatting, typing at their keyboard, making phone calls. A half dozen executive vice presidents had office suites on the east and the west perimeter off hallways extending into cantilevered sections standing on brick piers, with balconies that overlooked the copper roof covering the lower levels. The suites on the west side were for the heads of Marketing, Finance, Risk Management, and International Sales. On the east, the founder and CEO, Damien Cezary, had an office suite (twice as large as any other executive office). Side-by-side with Cezary’s office was Chase Amunson’s office on the left and Maynard Fuller’s, the head of research and development, on the right. Cezary’s and Chase’s choice of location surprised Mia. Certainly the better view was the one without concrete and cars. Unless the rumors were true, and it was absolutely essential to their mode of management to monitor when their people chose to come and go. Did a need for them to keep an eye on what the minions were doing really outweigh all aesthetic considerations? She didn’t understand the desire to control people to that degree, and the surveillance seemed very repressive to her. North and south there were conference rooms with patterned glass walls, containing huge tables made of dark wood with marble insets in the center (each topped with a triangular speaker phone to facilitate conference calls), and tall padded black office chairs all around, big screen Ultra HD plasma monitors on the walls. In the center of the north wall was a pair of twelve foot tall mahogany doors that opened onto the suite of rooms where the Executive Team and the Board of Directors met.
Chase excused himself for a moment and stepped into the International Sales EVP’s office. Mia took the opportunity to go stand under the eye-shaped oval skylight made of glass and steel piercing the roof above the Marketing cubicles and near the entrance to the Board Room suite. Then she looked down over the railing to the red carpeted grand staircase six floors below. Behind her, the tall auburn-haired man started down the walkway through the middle of the cubicles, so she hurried to follow him to the receptionist desk in front of Cezary’s office. He introduced Mia to Amy Minturn, a thirty-something brunette with a genuine and open smile, upturned nose, freckles, and blue eyes, who acted as receptionist and administrative assistant to both Cezary and Chase. Then he said, “Come on into my office, Mia.”
Invited to sit, Mia took a seat facing his huge desk. She could see there was a sticky note on the side of his phone — GibiL!23. She thought, “Is that his computer password? He needs a note so he doesn’t forget his password? And it’s sitting right out in the open. Pretty ironic for a company noted for their network security.”
Out loud she said, “This is the first time I’ve been up here on the sixth floor. I expected there to be more opulence and fewer cubicles, didn’t realize there were so many people who worked up here. Congratulations on the great propinquity of your office, by the way.”
Chase’s black eyes stared intently at her for a second, then returned to his laptop monitor. “You’ve been doing some reading on business politics, I see. An excellent topic for you to learn more about. Thank you, yes, I like the location of my office, appreciate having easy access to the CEO. However, things could be better. I don’t have a balcony off my office like several others do, including Mr. Cezary. But you’re correct, this is a prime real estate location, to be sure. Oh, about the cubicles. I think you’ll find that iCon, at its core, is all about working hard to achieve our goals, so of course all of the people on the sixth floor are working very diligently.”
Her face burning red, she thought, “That’s not what I meant. At all.” Of course, Chase never missed a chance to dress a person down and put them in their place. “Me executive, you minion, incapable of grasping the big picture.” Out loud she said, “If it was me, I would prefer the other side of the building, the view to the west. I would love to have the chance to see the buffalo every day. If I had an choice, I’d pick bison over cars.”
Chase said, “Bison. Such magnificent beasts. So many things to admire about them. The way they will, on occasion, run like wild animals as if there are no fences to stop them. Fascinating to watch. But
I have a view of a different sort of herd out my window.”
“I hadn’t thought of it that way.” Mia chuckled. “Haha! I’m sure that sort of herd of animals can also act up on occasion and sometimes be just as wild.”
“Not if you’re managing them properly,” Chase replied, closing his laptop. Then he took a moment to adjust the heavy chain link bracelet on his wrist. “And now for the favor. Earlier, you mentioned that you had seen our political visitors in the lobby today. Mr. Cezary is giving a dinner for them and other local VIPs here in the executive dining room off the Board Room tonight, catered by Damien’s favorite Chicago restaurant, the head chef flown in to cook for this occasion. Unfortunately, my wife Samira is away this week, staying with family in Georgia. Normally Amy would accompany me to a company function like this, but her son Ryan has an important away game tonight, and she will not be able to attend. Would you be available to accompany me this evening?”
Stunned, Mia didn’t know what to answer. Her mind was racing and she thought, “Frack! An invitation to a company executive banquet with local and national politicians included as guests? I don’t know if I want to go or not, but how can I say no? I don’t have a good excuse to turn him down.” Out loud, she said, “Oh. Tonight?”
“I do apologize for the last minute notice, but my wife Samira had to leave suddenly to go help her mother. Her father fell yesterday, broke his ankle.”
Mia said, “I’m so sorry to hear that! I hope it’s not anything too serious.”
“Oh, yes, everything will be fine but for now, Samira’s mother needed her there. What do you say? Shall I pick you up at your house at seven-thirty?”
Mia thought, “Why not go? Wouldn’t it be a one of a kind experience?” So she found herself saying, “Yes, I’ll be happy to help out by attending.”
Standing, gesturing with his hand toward the door, he signalled to Mia it was time for her to leave his office. “Great! Be advised — the dinner is black tie, so dress your best tonight.”
Outside Chase’s office, Mia wished Amy’s son good luck with his basketball game. At first Mia was excited thinking about the dinner that evening, but then on the elevator ride down from the sixth floor, her heart sank as well. “A black tie affair! I hadn’t thought of that — what am I going to wear? I don’t have anything to wear! It’s not like I have a tuxedo hanging in the back of my closet and can pull that out as suitable attire for the evening. And my hair! What can I do about my hair?” For the rest of the afternoon, all she thought about was getting ready for the event. “Frack! Why did I say yes?!”
Shirking her duty to put in unpaid overtime, Mia improperly left exactly at five o’clock, but she did go out through the approved lobby door. (And not the most convenient door, the closest to parking lot door located in the Communications area.) On the drive home, she called Jan on her cell. “Can you come over to my house after you fix supper for your mom? I need help!”
When she got home, Mia dashed past the statue of Jesus and the little lamb in her living room, shut the front drapes, then ran up the stairs two at a time to her bedroom in the tower. After showering, she rummaged through her closet. “What can I wear? What can I wear? Not that. Not that. No, don’t want pants. I need a dress. Not that. Not that. Oh! Wait — just what I need!”
Last fall for her tenth college reunion, she had purchased a dress in Kansas City for the formal dinner on the second night. It was a cerise colored dress, above the knee, with a semi-sheer full overskirt made with horizontally placed ribbons of different widths, satin and sheer, some with gold thread running through, and the fitted underskirt of solid red. Also solid red, the bodice was sleeveless and fitted, had a scoop neckline, and a banded waist. Mia loved the bright cherry red color, and she had gotten many compliments on how good she had looked in it. She had gold pumps (pointed toe, with metallic fringed bows topped with rhinestone ornaments) with three inch heels to wear with the red dress, and a clutch to match. “No need to worry about being too tall in my heels tonight! In these, I’ll be nine inches shorter than my escort, instead of twelve.”
Downstairs, the front doorbell rang and the door opened. Jan shouted, “Hi, Mia! It’s me! Where are you?”
“Come on up, Jan! I’m upstairs searching in my closet for something to wear!”
“I can’t believe you got asked to go to this fancy dress dinner, Mia! How exciting!”
“What do you think of this red dress?”
“Love it! So pretty, the perfect color for you. Anything to wear over it? It is March, and no sleeves? Brr.”
Jan started looking through Mia’s closet. “Ooh, what about this?” She held up her find. Part shrug, part jacket, made of sheer black lace with long sleeves, shawl collar, coming down to the waist across the back, ruffles around wrists.
Mia shouted, “Jan, you’re a genius!” and gave her a hug.
So with her help, Mia was soon perfectly attired for a black tie event. Jan put her hair up in a classic French twist. “A twist with a twist,” Jan called it, letting the ends of Mia’s blond hair fall over the top. And after putting on the red dress, black lace shrug, jet bead necklace and matching dangly earrings, plus evening makeup with some “1940s red lipstick” (Jan’s description), the gold pumps and clutch, her navy wool overcoat handy for the dash out the door, Mia was ready by seven-thirty when Chase’s big black SUV pulled up in front of the house. “Thanks so much, Jan! I couldn’t have done it without you! Pull the door shut when you leave. I’ve got my key.”
Inside the sixth floor Board Room suite, the dining area was elegantly imposing with dark wood, polished marble, and subdued lighting, eight round dining tables dressed in white linen and multi-colored chrysanthemums. The visiting Congressmen and their staff, the entire executive team from iCon, and the Barrow Heights town council were in attendance, each accompanied by spouse or significant other — more than fifty people in all. Chase introduced her to everyone, each time remembering that she was “Dr. Mia Marwitz.”
She said hello to Damien Cezary who replied, “Dr. Marwitz, so glad to see you here, so glad you are becoming a more involved member of our team. In the future, I hope to see more interest like this from you. Chase!” Cezary used his hand to gesture her away. “We’ll talk more later, Mia.”
After spending several minutes talking one-on-one with Cezary, Chase found Mia again and got her a drink from the bar. “Try the rumpletini. They are very good.” Then he excused himself, and on his own, made the rounds of the movers and shakers in the room. Later, Mia overheard part of his conversation with Mr. Barrow Heights Councilman who was saying, “We’d like to ensure that you reserve a place for us in the new Utopia you’re constructing.”
“We’d love to have you on board, Kevin.” Chase smiled and said, “In fact, you could help iCon by taking part in our testing, if you’d like.”
“Wonderful! Glad to hear it,” Mr. Councilman said. “And to express our gratitude —. Where does Mr. Cezary and your executive team like to spend their spring vacay?”
Chase said, “Hmm. Oh, somewhere warm. Or maybe somewhere sunny and ski-ish. Tastes vary.”
“Haha, don’t they just!” Mr. Councilman laughed. “That’s wonderful! Well, we’d like to help make their time away as pleasant as possible.”
“I can a send you a list of vacation preferences for our people.” Chase said.
Mr. Councilman shook his hand, never noticing the other man’s six fingers. “Wonderful! Wonderful! We’ll take good care of them! Email you the details later, Chase.”
Putting his giant left hand adorned with three large rings over their clasped hands, Chase said, “Wonderful, Kevin! That’s just wonderful!”
Soon after, everyone was seated in groups of eight around tables covered in white linen, set with gold-rimmed china, crystal, silver flatware, and centerpieces of chrysanthemums. Dinner was exquisitely delicious, the chef
from the two star restaurant in Chicago living up to his reputation.
Hot Appetizer — Brandade de Morue (salt cod, potatoes, Parmesan cheese, garlic, olive oil) and crostini.
Salad — roasted red onion vinaigrette with green bean salad.
Entree — prime rib or Lake Michigan white fish, with roasted baby parsnips and carrots, accompanied by fragrant, freshly baked rolls.
Dessert — each, a sampler tray of five different, bite-sized, decadent chocolate treats decorated with gold foil, served with mulled wine.
An appropriate wine was served with each course, as were appletinis and rumpletinis before and after. The company at dinner was also enjoyable, with Chase making an effort to include Mia in the conversation at the table until everyone was comfortable talking with her. People listened to what she said, and nobody rolled their eyes or stifled yawns when she talked.
After dinner, Mia walked to the north bank of windows to look from this elevated vantage point over the campus of what had been Edgestow College. Perfectly centered on iCon’s building, she could see Noonan Hall with its facade of crenellated arches lit up by spotlights directly below. Two buildings built 150 years apart, centered on each other very deliberately, even though the plans for the HQ had been drawn up five years before the acquisition of the college. She thought, “Wish I knew the rationale iCon had for constructing in this precise location back then.” Leaving the mystery (and her nostalgia for the days of being a professor) behind, she joined some of the wives seated around the fireplace who were chatting about this and that. Mrs. Wisconsin Senator greeted her and said, “I love your dress, Mia. Black and red are perfect for any occasion.”
“Thank you so much!” Mia laughed and said, “Haha! Three hours ago, I was in a panic. I had no idea what I’d be wearing tonight. Chase’s wife Samira had a family emergency, and I was a last minute substitution for dinner. Men never consider that a woman never has anything to wear, and a couple of hours’ notice just isn’t enough. No time for shopping!”
No Geek Rapture for Me_I'm Old School Page 17
