Learning Curve

by Michael S. Malone

  Before they crossed the threshold, Dan caught Mary’s shoulder and whispered, “Where’s the great man?”

  “Oh,” she said in a normal voice, “didn’t they tell you? Mr. Validator isn’t here. He’s flying in from Europe in the morning.” Seeing the stricken look on Dan’s face, Mary patted him on the chest. “I know, baby, but don’t worry. We’ll have nice fun evening, just the three of us. And I’ve got a helluva dinner planned.”

  Dan made his way across the vast hall. It was almost sixty feet tall at its peak; its distant cedar beams rested atop the great barkless cedar trunks whose own bases were five feet in diameter. There was a fire in the giant fireplace, its mouth tall enough to walk into, and the chimney was a ­four-story waterfall of rounded river stones, the ones at the base larger than the span of Dan’s arms. The flames produced half the light in the room; the rest came from the soft warm glow of van Erp and Tiffany lamps and sconces. Those yellow lights made a soft glow on Persian carpets, on the hammered copper and golden oak of Stickley furniture, and on Remington and Russell bronzes. The flames and light reflected off the distant wall of glass that, during the day, was filled with a panorama of the nearby mountains.

  He passed down the long hallway, which was lined with Santa Fe chests and antler and horn chairs and benches. His room, the suite at the end of the hall, was already lit, its doors opened, a fire burning in its own vintage iron stove. This was the “Cowboy Beaux Arts” suite. It had a big brass bed, a hand-painted Victorian bureau and armoire, framed shadow boxes filled with dime novels, and a wall-sized display of Winchester lever action rifles. The curtains were open. By the light of the room, Dan could just make out the statue of The End of the Trail. It was one of Fraser’s first run of bronzes—Cosmo had seen it at Sotheby’s and paid a fortune “to bring it back West where it belongs.” The slumped Indian atop the weary horse was even more evocative in the wintertime, when it stood alone in the snow, fading into the gloom.

  Five minutes later, having dumped his suitcase on the bed and hung up his tie, suit, and shirt, Dan was back in the Great Hall. Virgil was waiting for him, sitting on one of the hand-tooled leather couches. A martini and a bowl of cashews stood on the coffee table opposite.

  “Bombay Sapphire, anchovy olive, right?” asked Virgil.

  Dan dropped heavily onto the couch. “You remembered that after two years?”

  “Naah.” Virgil made a typing gesture with his fingers. “Database in the bar’s computer.”

  “Of course.” Dan raised his glass in a toast. “Good hunting.”

  “Straight shooting,” Virgil replied and took a swig out of his beer glass.

  After they finished their drinks, they made their way to the dining room. Its walls were manzanita and glowed deeply with rubbed beeswax, and from the ceiling hung a chandelier made of deer antlers. The two men sat at one end of the antique vestry table with ancient silver conchas nailed around its perimeter. Mary arrived a moment later, carrying a plate and followed by two assistants, one with two more plates and the other carrying a silver lidded casserole.

  Mary set the plate in front of Dan.

  “Is this what I think it is?” he asked, leaning forward to savor the smell of the meat.

  “Yep,” said Mary. “Saddle of elk in morel and juniper berry sauce. Plus local wild rice, marinated Brussels sprouts, and white truffle mashed potatoes.”

  “You spoil me.”

  Mary slid into her chair. “I had to. I felt guilty. I know what this night means to you and Annabelle.”

  “How could you possibly know that?”

  “She called this afternoon. Asked me to do something special for you, with her love. I sure hope you appreciate that wife of yours.”

  “Oh, I do,” said Dan. “I do.”

  It was a pleasant dinner. Dan had always enjoyed the Masons. They reminded him of the Iowa wing of his family: good, reliable, happy people who worked hard, enjoyed a good laugh, and weren’t impressed by all of the extravagance that surrounded them. Over dessert, a thoroughly stuffed Dan asked about the new Mrs. Validator. Mary frowned. “Breeding tells,” she said. “And when you give your child a stripper name like Amber, you’ve got to know what you’re going to get.”

  “That’s pretty harsh,” Dan said. “I take it that you’re not a big fan.”

  “Figured that out, did you?” She forced a smile, but it looked more like a grimace. “Actually, it’s not too bad. At first, when she was wandering around this big ol’ house acting all air-fairy like she had just won the lottery…”

  “Which she did,” interjected Virgil.

  “… she was a pain in the ass. I even thought about quitting. I’m mean, a week before he proposed she’s—excuse my French—a fucking cocktail waitress with her big fake knockers being drooled over by drunks, and now she thinks she’s the Duchess of Validator Ranch? That was too much for me.”

  “At least it was kinda funny,” said Virgil.

  Mary’s grimace grew grimmer, “Washing your feet in the bidet and saying ‘filay mig-non’ doesn’t make up for being a class A, gold-plated bitch.”

  “Wow,” said Dan. “I’ve never heard you talk like this before.”

  “Never needed to. But truth be told, it’s not so bad now. She settled down after awhile. Mostly, she was just scared. And now, she’s got ambition—which is good for the rest of us because she’s out of the house most days before lunch and not home until late evening. And when she is around, I just tell myself that she won’t be around any longer than the other ones.”

  “Is she home now?”

  Mary smiled conspiratorially. “I wouldn’t be talking like this if she was. But you should see her soon. Don’t worry about being sociable; she won’t. I guarantee she’ll clear out as fast as she can. She doesn’t like Mr. Validator’s guests because she’s intimidated by them—and she’ll intercom me to bring her dinner in her room.”

  As Dan was helping Mary and Virgil carry the dirty dishes into the kitchen, he turned a corner and nearly collided with Amber Validator. She was surprisingly petite, but as blonde and buxom as Cosmo liked them. She wore too much make-up. She was dressed in a fawn-colored buckskin suit that appeared to have been designed by some cowboy couturier, and she had spectacularly beautiful green eyes, now wide with surprise. “Oh! Hi,” she said with a breathy voice as she backed up two steps.

  “Hello,” said Dan. He glanced down at his full hands and shrugged, hoping Amber would get the message that he couldn’t shake hands. Did she shake hands? “I’m Dan Crowen. I’m the president of Cosmo’s company.”

  “Oh… yes. I see. Are you here to see Cosmo? Because he’s not here.”

  “Yes, I know. I’ve been told that I’m to see him in the morning when he gets back.”

  “Well, that’s good. Have you been here before, er—?”

  “Dan. And yes, I have. I was even here once when it was being built. Quite a construction project.”

  She nodded blankly. “Well, I just got in from a meeting and I need to… freshen up. I guess I’ll see you in the morning.” She started to leave, then caught herself. With a slight lift of the chin and an equally small drop in her voice, she carefully enunciated, “If there is anything that you need, my people are at your service.”

  “Thank you. And it was great to meet you, Mrs. Validator. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  With that, Amber Validator spun around and headed down the long hallway to the master’s quarters. Dan watched for a moment as she went, appreciating the view, then pushed any thoughts about the boss’s wife out of his mind. As he walked into the kitchen, Virgil gave him a wink, and Mary, already rinsing plates, mouthed, “I told you.”

  v. 1.3

  That night, Dan’s dreams were filled with odd and unsettling images. Later, he couldn’t remember any of them well, but only that he seemed to be in a
perpetual, unresolved struggle: wild animals, sinister figures, giants, monsters, zombies, wraiths. Every time he was on the brink of escape or victory, or even death, he was snatched away and deposited in the next dream… only to repeat the cycle again. In each dream, he sensed that there was another force at work in the background—an enemy? the Devil? just pure evil itself?—arraying these forces against him, laughing at his victimization, never letting him lose or win.

  The night seemed endless, unrelenting. Every time Dan tried to escape into wakefulness, clawing his way up to consciousness, he found himself in yet another dreadful, unresolved dream.

  He finally awoke, exhausted, to bright light streaming in through a gap in the curtains. With a groan, he rolled over and checked the clock. Nine o’clock. Jesus Christ. He dragged himself out of bed and stumbled into the shower.

  Twenty minutes later, he made his way into the great room. The maid vacuuming the big Persian carpet looked up at him in surprise. So did her counterpart, who was using a feather duster on the bronzes. Dan glanced grimly out the giant window. The sun was high over the mountains, and the sky had already turned from pink to blue. He hurried his step.

  He reached the kitchen, so friendly the night before, to find Mary busy at work with her assistant, preparing dinner. Her mouth was tight as she nodded to him. “I think he’s still in the breakfast nook.” Dan hurried on.

  He found Cosmo sitting on one side of the nook, his long legs and cowboy boots splayed out into the passageway and a pair of greasy and empty plates and the dregs of a cup of coffee in front of him. His silver pompadour was longer and flatter than usual, and he was wearing a cowboy shirt and an old A-2 bomber jacket. He was reading through a stack of printed pages—no doubt a draft of his shareholders’ address—and marking it with an automatic pencil, snapping off the lead and angrily clicking out a new length. When Dan reached the table, Cosmo tossed the speech down onto the plate and tossed the pencil after it. “You forget to set the alarm or something?”

  “Yeah, I guess I did.”

  Cosmo gestured with a flick of his hand at the place across from him. “I don’t have much time. Have Mary make you something to eat after I go. Better yet, have her make you something to take along. I assume you haven’t packed yet?”

  “No, but it’ll just…”

  Cosmo held up a hand. “Doesn’t matter. I’ve got an appointment on the other side of the ranch. Some… property. The plane is going to take you back to the Valley as soon as you get to the airport. It’ll come back for me. I’ll go directly from San Jose to the shareholder’s meeting. I won’t have time for the usual meet and greet with employees. And I’ve got to take off right afterwards.”

  “Okay,” said Dan. “A bit unusual. But okay.”

  Cosmo’s mouth went tight. “We’re just adjusting to your sleep-in, Dan.”

  Dan felt his face burning, something he hadn’t experienced in years. “I understand.”

  “Yes. Well, what it means is that I was going to brief you on everything this morning over breakfast. Now, I’m just going to have to give you a quick summary. I’ll have someone else—my new assistant—fly back with you and go over the details. She’s already at the airport.”

  Dan nodded. He felt like a little boy about to be spanked.

  Cosmo cleared the plates and cup out of the way with the back of his hand and held up his speech with the other. Then he dropped the speech back on the table and folded his hands on it as if in prayer. “I’m going to announce a major change in the organization of the company,” he said. “I appreciate that you are CEO and, as you know, I’ve done my best not to interfere in the daily operations of the company since I appointed you to that position.”

  “That’s true,” said Dan. For an instant, he thought he was going to be fired. Now he realized it might be something worse than that.

  “However, on this one occasion, I am going to exercise my authority as both chairman of the board and largest company shareholder to make a strategic shift. I know this is an unusual move on my part. But I’m also sure you’ll appreciate that in all your years with this company I have never once interfered with your operations or second-guessed your judgment.”

  “True.”

  “And I am only doing so now because I have a strong sense, based upon my years of experience, that this is a move that must be taken right now—even if the positive results may take years to appear.”

  Uh-oh, Dan thought. Years?

  “I’ll go one step further. I am going to predict that you will not agree with this decision. Frankly, I don’t think industry analysts, our shareholders, or the media will agree with it either. But that only makes me more certain than ever. You know I’ve taken risks like this in the past… and they’ve always paid off handsomely for the company. You know this as well as I do, since my hiring you was just such a gut decision. And I’ve never once regretted making it.”

  “Thank you,” said Dan, but he wasn’t smiling. “What exactly is this idea, Cosmo?”

  Cosmo leaned forward and look Dan directly in the eye. “Validator Software is going to get rid of its sales force. You’re going to replace it with outside, contracted sales.”

  Dan’s mouth opened involuntarily. He didn’t notice that he had gripped the table with both hands. “You’re not serious. We’ve got the best sales team in the business. Why would we get rid of them? They—”

  Cosmo raised a hand to silence him. “I know exactly what we have. I know all the arguments for keeping them. But I also know the reasons for getting rid of them—and my conclusion is that these second reasons trump the first.”

  Dan felt his stomach drop. “But I built that sales force—Tony D.—”

  “They’ll be fine,” said Cosmo. “As you said, they’re the best in the business. They’ll be hired within a week. Tony D. quicker than that. And hell, we’ll probably hire a bunch of them back as contractors.”

  “But why—?”

  “I don’t expect you to understand all my reasoning on this. I’m not sure I do. But Ms. Holmes will go over everything with you on the plane. I hope you’ll be persuaded. But if not, I hope that you’ll at least trust me on this one. I know that the standard response to this kind of change is to quit; but I sincerely hope you won’t do that. You’ve done a brilliant job with this company. And if you continue to stay on, I think your best days at Validator are ahead of you. I don’t want to lose you.”

  Dan slumped back in the booth. He felt wretched, like a man who has just been given notice of a fatal illness. “And if I decide I can’t do this?”

  “Then I’ll be both saddened and disappointed. So will your people. And frankly, it would be an incredibly selfish thing for you to do. You may not like this change, but at least you’ll be making it during good times, with your competitors reduced to pygmies. If you really care about your employees, you know that this move will have far less impact on company stock than it would have if you were to quit in a dispute with the chairman. That would crush the value of all of the optioned Validator stock your employees hold.”

  “Not to mention yours.”

  “No doubt. And my losses will, with the exception of a few institutional investors, be greater than anyone’s. And yet I’m willing to lose all that because I believe I’ll regain every bit of it back—and significantly more.”

  Easy for you to say, Dan thought. Even in the worst case scenario you’d still be a billionaire. “And in between?” he asked as calmly as possible.

  Cosmo sat back and stared at the ceiling, then looked back down at Dan. “It’ll be rough. A lot of people will see their nest eggs all but disappear. And they’ll all blame you.”

  Dan looked beyond Validator and into the kitchen, where clean-up was underway. Everything else in the world still seemed normal; why was it only crazy here, in this little corner? “And if I decide not to acce
pt that blame?”

  “Your departure would be a great loss to the company,” Cosmo said firmly. “And it would be very difficult to fill your position with someone with your ability. And, of course, no one besides me has your understanding of company operations. But, that said, everyone is replaceable.” He smiled knowingly. “Even the founder. And rest assured, whoever the CEO of Validator Software is, they’re going to execute the new strategy.”

  “No doubt.”

  “So the only question is whether that strategy will be executed well, with minimum damage to the company.”

  “You mean the company, with the exception of its sales force,” Dan said. “Because they are on the street tomorrow.”

  “Yes, but let’s say a month from now. And as I said, they won’t be on that street for long.”

  Dan rubbed his mouth. It was if last night’s dream sequences had never ended. “So that’s it. You hand me a fait accompli, and I have to take it or leave it.”

  “Yes. Please give Ms. Holmes a fair hearing on the flight back. If I see you at the shareholders meeting, I’ll take that as a sign you’re staying. If I don’t see you, I already have a statement prepared.”

  “I’m not surprised.” Dan shook his head—and didn’t try to hide it. Motherfucker. It’s already completely planned. After one last glare at the preternaturally confident man across the table, Dan began to slide out of the booth. “I guess that’s it.”

  “Yes,” said Cosmo, unmoving. “And Dan?”

  Crowen paused, one leg out of the booth. “Yeah?”

  “If you choose to stay, you know you have to own this new strategy. It has to be your idea. Your project. You are the CEO.”

  “Thanks for reminding me.” Dan got to his feet. “For a moment there, I almost forgot.”

  He didn’t shake Cosmo’s hand, and he didn’t look back as he walked away.

  v. 1.4

  It was an endless drive back to the airport. Virgil Mason hadn’t even been in the house, but it was clear to Dan that he already knew the subject of the conversation in the breakfast nook. They drove along in silence, Virgil staring straight ahead through the windshield, Dan resting his chin in hand and watching the countryside pass on his right.