by Dom Price
Anne sat cautiously at the table. She knew what the opening words would be, but not what would follow. The kids were safely tucked up in bed, and she knew that time was on their side, but the anticipation of these events was quite something. Given her brothers staunch standing on pride, success and desire to never admit a failure, she knew that something pretty significant was in the air if he was around for an uninvited meal. Looking across the table, she wondered if Tony was thinking the same. After nearly 10 years of marriage, their thought processes were often in harmony, but she was confused by the look on his face. His body language was confusing her.
As Dave slowly poured the wine, the anger raged inside Tony in equal measures to the voice which simply said “let it be Tony, let it be.” Tony didn’t mind Dave coming around. In fact it was great to catch up with his best mate and wife’s brother. But today?? Tony had been dreaming of his meat and veg all day as he slaved away at work, and he begrudged getting a half portion of his favourite meal so that the other half could be given to a man who had turned up uninvited and who could afford any meal in any restaurant in any part of town. But what really took the biscuit for Tony, was that bloody wine. It seemed that as Dave smugly topped up the glasses, that he’d conveniently forgotten that a drunken conversation they’d had over a few beers where Dave had regaled in great enjoyment about his secret wine stash. Now Tony was faced with his best mate eating half of his dinner whilst pouring cheap wine in disguise around the table. Luckily, the excitement at what news Dave was about to break, was just enough to overcome his anger. “There is nothing like someone else’s problems to make yours seem better!” thought Tony, quietly wondering how much more joint he would have got if Dave hadn’t been there.
Dave took a healthy swig of his ‘unique’ wine, swilling with a nonchalant expertise that made him look like he was washing out his mouth at the dentists. By the time his glass was back on the IKEA coaster, both Anne and Tony were virtually dribbling with anticipation, and salivating at the news which nearly always followed the first big gulp of vino. Inhaling a breath in anticipation, they nearly rid the kitchen of oxygen, as their gaping bright white eyes bulged in unison and focused solely on Dave.
“So…” as Dave paused and looked up, seeing the open caverns that were his confidants mouths, “work…they’ve said they aren’t going to promote me.”
Dave gently circled the top of his glass, now avoiding eye contact and waiting for a reaction. When the response was silence, he gingerly raised his gaze, to see the shock on the faces before him, like the day the world found out that George Michael might be gay. (How didn’t we realise?!)
“But I already accepted the invite to your promotion drinks and we’ve lined up a baby sitter” added Tony. He was always keen for a night out, few beers and a party, which had become a bit of a rarity since the kids had come along. Before he’d had a chance the finish the sentence, the heat from Anne’s glare in his direction was warming his face uncomfortably. Sensing he’d said the wrong thing, he opted for a safe return to his evening meal while the siblings debated the news with more consideration. His time would come.
As the twins debated the shocking news, Tony observed with amazement. Their lives had taken such different paths. From the age of 13, Anne had wanted to be a wife, mother, parent, daughter, sister and guardian. As he watched her graciously dance around the subject, he recalled how they were each other’s first love, had married young and now had a gorgeous young family to show for it. Anne’s life was so different to Dave’s and almost polar opposite, despite the same genes and upbringing, yet they somehow had an inherent understanding of each other that defied nearly every opinion they had. Where Anne was paternal, Dave was cut throat. Where Dave saw weakness, Anne saw someone who she could help. Anne had given money or time to charity for every big deal that Dave had closed. Her blood spread warming and caring to every extremity of her body. Dave’s blood rattled with the clatter of loose change and was pumped around his body twice as fast chasing the desire for more, bigger, better and success. Dave would have topped up the glass that was half empty and found another one that needed filling…Anne was just glad to have a glass and didn’t see it as half full or half empty. Watching Dave, Tony had always had a hint of envy at his success, achievement and the financial stability that he undoubtedly had. But in that moment, like many others, as Dave stacked some carrots on his beef and topped it with some gravy, he was happy to be himself and in his situation. Life as Tony Hamilton wasn’t three bad.
“So they are just delaying it then? From what you’ve just said, you can still get it if you can prove that you aren’t a career junkie?”
Anne had a certain way with words at times like these. She’d not learnt the tact of the Boardroom, but had learnt the brutal honesty of raising two young children and having a husband!
“Yeah, if you put it like that. But…”
“Don’t Dave. No more buts. If you really want this, then first things first. You need to admit what we all know. You are a corporate whore and career junkie…just admit it. No more fighting…go on, do it!”
“I AM NOT A CORPORATE WHORE!”
Dave seemed angered and his sudden raised voice had caused a nervous silence around the whole kitchen. The silence was broken as Tony burst into uncontrollable sniggers that saw a combination of carrot and red wine start to emit from the side of his mouth. The infectious laughter was quickly contracted by both Anne and Dave. Picking up his wine and taking a swig, Dave surmised the situation well.
“I know people with life coaches and counsellors, and I have to wait ‘til the proverbial hits the fan, and my shrink is my kid sister and my best mate who is her husband, and I get fed during our sessions…that’s got to be the definition of crazy!?!’
“Definitely is mate…especially when you add in the fact that you’ve brought cheap ass clean skin wine around with fake labels” as Tony once again erupted into secondary laughter with caught on even quicker. He was surprisingly witty for Mr Average.
Dave instantly relaxed all his neck muscles and slowly and deliberately made gentle head butting motions towards the table. Lifting his head to the sermon, he looked vulnerable to Anne and Tony.
“I really want this. We all know you are right, but I strongly believe that if I can get this over the line, it will all be alright from thereon in. Consider it a stake in the ground?
“Mate, we’ve been friends for nearly 20 years yeah? Well trust me and believe me when I tell you this. I’ve never given you advice because I don’t like giving it and you don’t like taking it. But these aren’t normal circumstances and we’re all desperate. Agreed?”
There were gentle nods from around the table, as much from the confusion as backseat Tony took control of the situation with such poise.
“Now you can try as many get rich schemes as you like. My guess would be that you’d start by taking your team out and getting them drunk, before bullying them to start telling the hierarchy that they love working for you because you are balanced.”
“Well, the thought had crossed my mind…briefly…”
“Well uncross it. You need to do this for real mate. You can’t fool these guys. They don’t want to hear that you are balanced. They want to SEE it. And to really see it and believe it, you need to be balanced. I can only see one way you can do that.”
“Come on then, don’t hold me in suspense. I’ve only got a few weeks to turn the tables, and I sense this isn’t going to be straight forward.”
“You need a lady.” There is was. Delivered. Out in the open. As quick as he’d let the words out, Tony was back to his plate and casually mopped up the remaining gravy with his potatoes.
“A lady. Thank god for that. I thought you were going to suggest something awful like charity work or helping the homeless. Yuck. Well that can’t be too tough, as there are plenty around and I’m a definite catch. Rich, single, successful. Hell, if I was a lady, I reckon I’d fancy me.”
There was nothing ri
ght about the final statement, but they let it pass given the delicateness of the current situation.
Anne reached over and doing her ultimate parental look, placed her hand on Dave’s arm, more like Mother Theresa than his kid sister. She enquired softly and with hope.
“David. Have you been with a lady recently? Do you have a love interest?”
“Easy Sis! Look, I’ve been busy the last few months. It’s been a rough quarter. It wouldn’t have been fair. The last year has been about focus and dedication. There was no room for anyone else.”
“Mate, you’ve just gone from months to years. How long has it been?”
“Let’s just say a while. I’ve not lost my licence, but nor have I been behind the wheel for a while.”
“I just hope you haven’t taken too many taxis!” Tony was unable to resist the temptation to blow Dave’s analogy into a sexual innuendo.
“OK, so if I get a girl, then you reckon they’ll consider me balanced?”
“Mate, getting a girl isn’t going to be as easy as you think. Getting one and then keeping her is going to be even harder. Some guys never do it. I was just lucky and found the love of my life at an early age, and now I’m fortunate that I get to grow old with her.” Tony leaned over and gave Anne a kiss that was more of parents than it was of lovers, but it was enough.
Dave suddenly realised that this wouldn’t be a stroll, and he’d need his wits about him if he was going to succeed at this venture like everything else. He couldn’t bear to have to cancel his own surprise party.
His mind wandered around the topic as the conversation continued and the meal was complete.
Before you could say “top meal and thanks for the counsel”, Dave was reaching for his keys, exchanging handshakes and kisses. Equipped with a stimulus and idea, he now knew what he needed to do.
“Plan, Execute, Measure”, he muttered as he turned the key in the ignition.
***
Chapter Simple Solution Surely
***
“Come on. It’s just a problem, and problem solving is your forte.”
Dave was into his second bottle of wine, as he sat stumped in his bachelor lounge. There was a horrible feeling that the walls were closing in on him and a fear that the fundamentals in his life were about to collapse and everything around him would come crashing down. The challenge seemed so simple in words, but now he sat with his cheap Merlot swilling around his glass, he realised that this was a mountain he’d not climbed before, and a mission that he couldn’t take lightly. The prize was too important. He’d already selected an array of executive toys for his new office that he’d get with his promotion, and had even enquired about upgrading his car to one more befitting of the private car park that CEC Services provided its partners.
Bereft of ideas, Dave was starting to get a little agitated at the lack of progress. He needed a plan. Realising that he was firmly back at square one, unless there was a square before that, he knew that this plan needed cunning, guile and inspiration. He moved to his bedroom, wine in hand, and collected the board marker on the way, sliding the opaque bedroom door to provide the perfect white board, as important to a consultant as a sword is to one from Arthur’s round table. Dave had cleaned the doors to give him the full space for this epic challenge, but the faux white board looked sparse, but for a few arrows and the words ‘GIRL’ and ‘BALANCE’.
It didn’t take too much soul searching for Dave to realise that he didn’t have writers block, but more importantly he had no idea where to start and no experience to draw on.
‘If only getting a woman was like getting a client? I’ve got plenty of those” he thought. “Hang on…I might just have something there.”
The drawing continued, and there was a plan. Dave knew lots about business. Business was about relationship management, pitching for something and being best of breed, making promises and delivering on them, and about beating the competition. Women are the same…ish? Kind of. Well, near enough. The lines were drawn, and the first phase of the plan was in place. Dave did have the skills required, so now he just needed a strategy. Finally, leaving his wine, Dave rushed excitedly towards his myriad of business and strategy books and began sifting through them in search of the Holy Grail. A business strategy that would help him woo a lady and demonstrate balance.
After limited success, it was time to give the information super highway a chance to shine, and Dave booted up his computer. Within minutes of loading and a variety of searches, Dave finally saw his treasure map, which would surely lead him to the gold.
On the large screen in front of him was a sign from a more powerful force, as it fitted so perfectly. Not only was it an ideal business strategy for Dave to plan his acquisition of a young lady, but it also satisfied one of Dave’s other desires…it used the Rule of 3.
The strategy was ideal, preferring to utilize a diagram over long laborious words, and was called ‘Three Horizons” and was pioneered by McKinsey’s, a top tier consulting business and one which Dave admired greatly.
Studying the methodology with a decent accompaniment of wine sloshing around his cranium, Dave was convinced that this was an ideal fit. The fact that it was designed as a growth strategy for businesses was conveniently ignored. Dave’s growth and profits would be the securing of a lady friend and the achievement of ‘balance’, that would see him in the hot seat of the CEC partnership within weeks.
Collecting his paper and a pencil, Dave quickly established his strategy whilst the creative juices flowed, though slightly infused with Merlot.
The interpretation was simple, and even better, it used the rule of 3, so was certain to work.
Horizon One was about current. So that was easy. His first efforts would focus on someone he already knew and who already knew him. The bonus here was that if he could convert H1, then he’d do so quickly and with minimal effort. With his killer instinct back on track, he instantly selected his prey for H1. “L.J.” was scrawled on the plan, and Laura Jones had a target on her back.
With his mojo back and having moved onto a glass of port, Dave was feeling the momentum picking up for this plan. H2 needed something different and something new, but intricately something that he could run in tandem with H1. Where could Dave quickly meet new women and not arise the suspicions of Laura who may be a work in progress at that stage? With a shake of his head and a smile of glee, H2 was born. H2 needed new women, and Dave was aware that his percentage chances of success were decent, but the more potential women he could squeeze in, the higher the chance of success. Only one strategy presented this kind of opportunity. Dave scribbled on his plan “play the numbers game”.
H3 was a little trickier, and took some real consideration from Dave. What was the innovation and break-through strategy that he’d use if H1 and H2 didn’t work? In his strategy presentation, this was a new market and a new product. In his dating terms that was dating a new kind of girl because he had something different to offer. Dave necked the last of the Port in trepidation at the mere thought of this. The words were written and he hoped that he’d never have to deliver on H3.
“Reinvent oneself in an innovative and creative way to change the perception of who I am, to therefore attract a new type of woman.”
“Fail to plan and plan to fail” he muttered to himself as he cleaned his teeth. Happy with his plan, he slinked off to bed.
On the other side of London, Laura was in bed, hurriedly preparing the final bio for their 6.30am meeting, without realising that the agenda had just changed.
***
Chapter Drink On The Horizon
***
“You look simply radiant today Laura.”
Laura had been concerned from the first interaction at their routinely morning coffee session. Dave arriving late was something that was strange, but Laura had a variety of reasons that she could attribute to this unusual lack of punctuality.
She was having considerable more trouble rationalizing away the other changes in behav
iour. The double espresso that he’d shot back before embarking on his usual skinny cappuccino had thrown her somewhat, but that all paled into insignificance compared to his extremely odd behaviour. Having issued the diary, bio’s and given the monologue update of his stats, Laura had expected one of two responses. The most likely response involved Dave digesting all the information before barking out a series of orders. This is what usually happened and strangely would have relaxed Laura.
Given the urgent and rather emotional departure from the office the day previous, Laura had also considered another response. This option would involve Dave opening up and explaining what had gone on in Nick’s office, and Laura was nervous that a conversation about feelings, reality and relevance, might make for an uncomfortable topic for someone like Dave.
The fact that neither of these was occurring was confusing enough, but Laura’s brain was trying to do trigonometry in Russian with a blind folded guide dog, as it attempted to understand what Dave was doing.
As well as using the word “radiant” to describe her, he continued with a question. Dave didn’t ask questions. He gave orders.
“How’s my favourite Laura today?”
This had just been amplified by him waving his hands away in a dismissive manner when she handed Dave the daily bio’s and his retort of “oh, I can deal with those later. I want to know more about you. How’s things?”
The statement had bothered Laura, but the wink that accompanied it sent 10,000 volts of fear through her nervous system and a shiver that shook the chair.
