Chapter Twelve
“Hello, stranger! Haven’t seen you in a while,” Brad said as she joined him for lunch.
“I’ve been buried under work and have been eating at my desk to save time.” She made a rueful face. It had been a week since she’d met her friend.
He winced sympathetically. “The boss is a real slavedriver, huh?”
“No, there’s just a lot to do. He drives himself even harder,” she said, unwilling to bash him.
He could still be terse and demanding, but she could tell he was trying to be courteous.
“He designed a new piece of medical equipment a couple of weeks ago, so there’s been a flurry of activity around that. ”
“What kind of equipment?” Brad asked.
She drew a zipper across her lips. “Sorry. I can’t say. It’s still in development, so it’s hush-hush.”
“I understand.” He nodded. “I knew Stratos started out as a designer, but I didn’t realize he still did that.”
“He had a brainstorm.” She recalled how happy he’d been that day.
Had that led to his change in behavior? He almost always said good morning now.
Often said please and thank you. At least with her.
With others, maybe not so much. He’d had her sit in on a few meetings and asked for her input afterward.
It cut into the time she had to get her own work done, but she liked being valued for more than administrative tasks.
It felt good to know her efforts—and opinions—were appreciated.
All in all, they had a good working relationship. She’d started to like him, or at least found him not quite as obnoxious. “How are things going with you? How are things in Data Analytics?” she asked.
“Pretty good. I’m nearing the end of this rotation, and I’ll be moving to a new department soon.”
“Which one?”
“No idea. I’ve applied to several. I’ll have to see.”
“I admire your flexibility,” she said sincerely, while personally preferring the confidence and competence she gained from routine and familiarity.
Although much remained to learn at her current job, she felt reasonably sure she could handle whatever came up.
Except for how to acquire a kaffii machine.
Purchasing had her stymied. What was the holdup?
“If you ever get sent to Purchasing, I could use a friend in the department,” she said wryly.
Brad wrinkled his nose. “Sorry. Much as I’d love to help you, I’d die of boredom in Purchasing. I’m much more interested in product development and testing than I am in ordering pencils.”
“Pencils?” She chuckled. Those would take a long time to get. No one on Earth used them anymore, and she doubted Oberians knew what they were.
“What’s going on with Purchasing, anyway?” he asked.
She explained how Verilla had ordered a kaffii machine, and it never came in, and then she reordered it, but she still couldn’t get one.
“That’s weird,” Brad said. “Somebody in my department got one a while ago. He didn’t order it. It just came.”
Well, shit! Could he have gotten the one intended for Stratos?
“He doesn’t use it. I can ask him if you can have it.”
“That would be wonderful! We’d have to work out a departmental equipment transfer and ensure the requisition credits got returned to his account and deducted from Stratos’.”
“That sounds complicated.”
“There are a couple of electronic forms to fill out. I can handle that part.”
“Okay, then. I’ll ask him.”
“Thank you! That would be great.” It was no big deal to get kaffii from the cafeteria, since she rode the tube now.
She’d mentioned to Stratos it no longer made her queasy, and he told her the anomaly had been fixed.
However, there was a principle involved!
It should not be difficult for the executive assistant to the vice president of Research and Development to get an effing kaffii machine.
It ought to be a slam dunk. If Stratos never drank another cup of kaffii, she was going to acquire a machine!
She and Brad chatted while they finished their lunch and then said their goodbyes.
“I’ll let you know about the kaffii machine,” he said.
* * * *
The next day, she got one! Brad wheeled it over in the afternoon, along with some kaffii pods, thank goodness, because she’d forgotten to order those. Only heaven knew how long those would take. If other departments functioned like Purchasing, she could understand why Stratos lost his patience.
“So, this is where you work.” Brad looked around. “Nice view.” He moved to the window and whistled. “Sweet perk. I’ve never had an office with a view.”
“Me either, until now.” It had had an impact at first, and the natural light was a bonus, but she was too busy to notice anymore.
“I’ll bet the boss man has an even better view.”
“Yeah, he does.” It was spectacular, but his desk faced away from the window.
“Is he in?”
“Not at the moment. He’s at the lab.” Like a doting dad with a new baby, he’d been spending a lot of time there while the portable med-bay got prototyped.
“Gives you some breathing space.”
“Yes, but we get on well, so it’s no big deal.”
“You’re very loyal.”
“Loyalty is beneficial to career longevity, and I happen to respect and like him.”
“Companies aren’t often loyal to their employees.”
“True.” How well she knew that. Exhibit A—her last job. But she didn’t want to rehash the past or get into a discussion. “Thanks again for the kaffii machine. As soon as I finish the project I’m working on, I’ll make a cup,” she hinted.
“Well, hey, I’d better get going, or my boss will wonder what happened to me. See you at lunch tomorrow?”
“Unless there’s a fire drill.”
Brad left, and she began preparing a series of reports that Stratos had asked for—with a please and a thank you, no less.
She’d just finished them and put them in his folder when he returned. “I need to talk to you about something.”
“That sounds ominous.” She scanned his face for a clue that she was in trouble.
“Nothing worrisome, just bothersome,” he said, not slowing down. “Come into my office—please.” He halted before entering. “You finally got one.” He eyed the kaffii machine on its wheeled cart.
“No thanks to Purchasing. With a friend’s help, I arranged for an interdepartmental transfer. Would you care for a cup?”
“Yes, please.”
“I’ll make some and bring it in.”
* * * *
Stratos drummed his fingers on his desk, unable to predict how Savannah would respond to his request. Outside the realm of her job responsibilities, it would be within her rights to tell him no.
In terms of competence and efficiency, she was the perfect assistant, and they seemed to be getting along much better these days.
She was still snarky and sharp-tongued, but he sensed her digs were more banter than ire.
Still, he could understand why she wouldn’t wish to spend off-hours with him. He ran a finger under his tight collar. He needed her to say yes.
His office door slid open, and she brought in two steaming cups and handed him one.
He motioned. “Sit,” he said, and then amended the order, “please.” Already, he’d gotten off to a bad start.
The little courtesies that seemed so pointless to him mattered a lot to her, so he tried to accommodate her.
She settled in the chair and eyed him over the cup as she took a sip. “This is even better than cafeteria kaffii. It tastes like victory.”
It tasted the same as always to him. He sipped and considered how to proceed then just launched right in. “You’re good at speaking to people.” He noticed she tailored her conversational style to the individual. With him, she was direct, which he preferred. With others, she was more engaging.
“I am?”
“More so than me.” Meetings with direct reports and employees he could handle. Conversations were to the point and directed by him. Discuss. Decide. Do. Move on. But social gatherings with a room full of chatty people? Aimless small talk? He tugged at his shirt collar again.
“Marketing came up with the idea of sponsoring a party to introduce our products to potential buyers in another province. We have the major market share in the Central Province, but it’s not as strong in others.
The event is a formal, catered gala. Reps from companies we hope to turn into customers have been invited as well as industry reporters and government officials.
All the principals of OberTech will be there. ”
“So, that includes you.”
“Yes.”
“You need me to make some arrangements?”
“I need you to go with me.”
“Is that an order?”
If he made it one, she would follow through. He was the boss and called the shots. “I’m asking for a favor.” He paused. “I’ll give you time off as compensation.”
“That’s not an inducement. If I take time off, stuff piles up, and I’ll have to work twice as hard to catch up.”
“I’ll pay you.”
“It’s not the money.”
“What is it, then? Me?” He felt a sharp sting. “There will be plenty of other people. You won’t have to interact much with me if you don’t wish to.”
“It’s not that. You’re not as obnoxious as you used to be.”
“Please,” he said.
She winced. “Why did you have to say that? I think I’ve created a monster.” She shook her head. “It’s just…I won’t fit in. I don’t have the proper clothes for a formal event.”
“Wear what you wear for work. You’ll look fine whatever you wear.” He found her quite pretty. Kep didn’t know what the flek he was talking about.
“You are such a man.”
“Nobody will notice your clothing anyway. They’ll be too busy noticing you’re human.”
“Knowing people will be staring at me makes me feel so much better.” She sighed. “I guess I could buy something…”
“So, you’ll go.”
“Yes…”
“Thank you,” he said.
She glowered. “When is this shindig?”
“The day after tomorrow. In the evening.”
“The day after tomorrow! You didn’t think to tell me sooner? It’s not on your calendar.”
“The event came up during the time I was without an assistant,” he said. He’d forgotten all about it until the production vice president mentioned it in passing this morning.
“I’ll never find an appropriate outfit by the day after tomorrow—even if I could figure out what appropriate is.”
“Your apartment assistant can help you with that. Aaia will order it, and she’ll have it delivered.”
“How did you know her name is Aaia, and that she’s a she?”
“I designed her.”
“I should have known.”
“I’ll pick you up at 7:30 p.m.”
She stood up. “You owe me.”
Yes, he really did.