The next few days are like a cold shower #4
I clench my teeth. I feel like rolling up the piece of paper and answering in the same poised tone as he did: “This is a kaleidoscope. I’ve painted your black-and-white world pink, say thank you nicely or leave me alone and kiss my ass. Goodbye.”
But common sense prevails.
“The ink has run out,” I announce.
“What?”
What’s your problem, jerk?!
“The printer ran out of ink and I had to change the font color.”
“You could have sent the file to the department’s printer.”
Unfortunately… He’s right. Why didn’t I think of that?
“Okay. I’ll do it right away.”
Jan pulls up the cuff of his shirt and glances at his chic (and, to my eye, damn expensive) watch. I haven’t seen him wearing it before. How many does he have?
“There is no more time for that. Please take what you have. You will read everything to me in the car.”
Eeeek… What will I do? Where?
“I’m to go with you?”
Jan doesn’t answer, just looks at me with those gray frosted eyes of his that seem to say, “And which part of the sentence, You will read everything to me in the car , didn’t you get?” after which he walks away without saying a word.
Jackass.
“I’ll just put the printouts in my briefcase. I’ll join you in the parking lot downstairs,” I add, and in response, I hear only a grunt.
Engler walks to the coat pegs at the end of the hallway, puts on his coat and heads for the elevator.
Christ, what a strange creature he is. He could at least say, “Sure, see you later,” like a normal person. But he didn’t… Grumpy growler.
My screwed-up boss is tangible proof that you shouldn’t judge a book by its cover. The fact that he looks like fucking James Bond in that damn suit and unbuttoned coat doesn’t change the fact that he still remains a stiff Jan—a grim sonofabitch.
Just as I step out into the underground parking lot, I hear the sound of an engine starting up. I look around the rows of cars and notice the headlights of one of them on.
A big beast, with tinted side windows, probably expensive as hell, with the BMW X4 badge on the back.
Well, yes, a fitting car for his ego. I walk up to the SUV, open the door and pack myself inside.
Instantly I’m enveloped by the elegant interior, the masculine scent and the proximity of my boss, whose sturdy, exuding self-confidence posture seems to fill the entire space.
“I’m here,” I sound like a fool because, after all, he can see that.
“Do you have everything I asked for?”
“I do.”
“Please start with the balance sheets of the last five years in an antichronological order.” The car starts rolling out of the parking lot.
“There is no need for this. The year before the merger is enough.”
“Apparently you did not understand, so I will say it again. The customer has an audit for failure to report… ”
“I understood perfectly,” I interrupt him mid-sentence.
“And the audit is unfounded. Spendimex had no obligation to report the merger. Their turnover in the year before the merger with Viramo and Kodo was forty-nine million, seven hundred and twenty-eight thousand euros. The notification obligation for Polish companies, on the other hand, occurs when turnover is above fifty million euros.”
Engler glances at me out of the corner of his eye. I think I surprised him.
“Please take out the printout with the turnover total.”
“We do not have an aggregate document. Each month is separate.”
He frowns.
“Then how do you know what the turnover was for the whole year if you just printed the files?”
“I counted in the elevator.”
The car slows down, there is the sound of the turn signal being turned on, and we pull over to the side of the road. Engler pulls the handbrake, switches on the emergency lights and turns toward me.
“Maria, perhaps I did not make myself clear enough,” he begins in a serious tone.“Our customer has committed a serious breach of the rules, and he expects us to provide professional assistance and a thorough approach, not calculating on the fly amounts that are in the millions of euros.”
“Not on the fly but standing up, in the elevator.” I open the folder, pull out the printouts of the last twelve months preceding the merger and hand them to Jan. “If you don’t believe me, check for yourself.”
His nostrils flare, but his expression remains unwavering. A true Stoic.
“Maria. These are neither the conditions nor the time for such calculations. Analyzing such data is hours of work in Excel, not four minutes of pasting amounts into a calculator on your phone, which you apparently did while riding the elevator from the thirty-third floor to minus one.”
“I didn’t use a calculator. I did it in my head.”
His eyebrows shoot up high. He definitely thinks I’m out of my mind.
And since I much prefer to be perceived as a freak (something I’d grown accustomed to in school) rather than as a person missing a few folds under her skull, I add with a smile, “Tell me any two complex numbers above one hundred thousand.”
“Pardon?”
“You don’t believe me that I calculated the annual turnover correctly in four minutes, without using Excel.
So please propose any two numbers and I’ll give you the result of their addition.
If I make a mistake, you have the right to dismiss me.
If, on the other hand, the result is correct, you will apologize to me, give me a discretionary bonus for the month, and do something about that broken air conditioner above my desk, which is supposedly in working order. ”
The expression on Jan’s face—priceless. He looks as if he has just realized that he has hired a madwoman. He keeps staring at me. He thinks. Either he’s going to throw me the hell out of the car right now, or…
He reaches into his pants pocket for his phone, types something on the screen, and while I can’t read any emotion from his face, I’m sure he’s just sending a text message to the head of the HR department with instructions to prepare a termination notice for Maria Gabara.
I’m feeling a hot flash coming. Well, it’s game over. And why did you stick your neck out, you moron? What for?
“Seven hundred and eight thousand nine hundred and twenty-one plus eight hundred and thirty-nine thousand and ninety-six.” Jan’s voice rings out unexpectedly.
My jaw drops because, damn, he surprised me. But not so much that my mind doesn’t automatically switch to a logical track. My brain sends a signal in a split second—a string of numbers appears before my eyes, which I utter in one exhale:
“One million five hundred forty-eight thousand seventeen.”
Jan squints.
“Add three hundred and twenty-seven thousand four hundred and fifty-three.” He throws the number at me, his thumbs moving efficiently across the phone screen.
I smile under my breath.
“One million eight hundred and seventy-five thousand four hundred and seventy,” I answer without hesitation.
Engler glances at the display, at me, then types something on the phone, pronouncing more numbers:
“Add three million nine hundred seventy-three thousand nine hundred sixty-eight.”
Oh, you doubting Thomas. I roll my eyes and answer without letting my breath out, “Five million eight hundred and forty-nine thousand four hundred and thirty-eight.” I tilt my head and look at the boss.
“We can drag this out to googol. I don’t mind, but by any chance were you in a hurry to see a customer? ”
Jan raises his eyes from the phone. He has the Excel #ARG!
written all over his face. I can see from him that he can’t rationally explain what’s going on.
Hahaha. That got him hooked. This is the first time I’ve seen such a look on his face.
And I’ll be damned, that look is worth the five million I got from adding up in the last minute.
He puts his cell phone in the holder on the windshield, glances in the rear-view mirror, releases the brake, switches off the hazard lights, turns on the blinker, starts the car and, after driving some twenty meters, makes a U-turn in the middle of the road.
“Yyyy… Did you forget something from the office?”
Instead of responding, he utters a voice command to connect with the customer.
Over a Bluetooth connection, a male voice sounds in the speakers,
“Good morning. We’re just getting ready for the meeting and…”
“The meeting is not necessary,” Jan says with perfect control of his voice.
“An inspection from the OCCP is unwarranted. Your accountant should review the turnover for the year preceding the merger once more and correspond with the Authority accordingly. The result did not exceed fifty million euros.”
“Are you sure?” You can hear the surprise in the caller’s voice.
“I am sure.” Jan’s firm reply makes me feel butterflies in my stomach.
“Okay, we’ll check it out right away.”
Jan hangs up.
I look at his reserved expression and feel as damn appreciated as ever. I may have given him irrefutable proof that my mathematical calculation skills are above average, but after all, he didn’t have to blindly believe that I had calculated Spendimex’s turnover correctly. And yet, he believed.
Silence falls in the car. I have no idea what I should say now. I think I’m shocked that Jan canceled the meeting and…
“You are free to go.” The car stops.
I feel clobbered. Wait a minute. Is he firing me? Or was it a question about whether I’m free? I swallow my saliva as my mouth dries up.
“Excuse me?”
“You have finished your work for today.” Jan points with his head to the windshield. I follow his gaze and realize that we are in front of my apartment building.
Wow! How the hell does he know my address?
What do you mean from where, you smartie? From your file. You are, after all, his subordinate, prompts my logic.
Which I am, but that doesn’t explain the fact that Jan has brought me near the house itself; on top of that, he gives me the rest of the day off, when I usually leave work at six in the evening at the earliest.