* * *
Damn it, what the hell’s happening in my life all of a sudden? For two months now I haven’t been able to rid myself of the suspicion that Gabor’s trying to keep me down. And I only got wind of the fact that apparently I’m not even going to be involved in the closing of an important contract, by pure coincidence.
About three months ago, Gabor had been having problems with his private laptop. It had crashed. Instead of informing someone from first-level support, he’d summoned me, the head of the IT department.
It had been a malfunction in the energy saving mode, a minor issue, which had turned off the monitor.
I’d only caught sight of the open email for a few seconds before Gabor quickly closed it. But it was long enough for me to suspect something was going on that I wasn’t meant to know about.
The sender of the email, HvR, had been cryptic, and the subject line had read Phoenix completion.
There hadn’t been much content:
Munich central station, October 18th. 1:10 PM. More details to follow.
Contractual basis: At least 100. Confirmation expected by September 15th.
October 18th. My birthday.
At first I had jokingly asked Gabor if “Phoenix” was the code name for my birthday present. But from his reaction I could clearly see how uncomfortable it was for him that I’d seen this strange email. There could only be one reason for that: Gabor wanted to keep me out of this deal, and there could be no doubt that it was a deal—in fact, with a contractual basis of a hundred stations it was the biggest one G.E.E. had landed yet.
Usually I’m always there when contracts like this are concluded, because every large project presents new demands on the IT department as well. But, this time, I hadn’t been informed.
* * *
The phone rings, the door opens almost simultaneously, and a man leaves Gabor’s office. He’s old, over eighty for sure. His white, still fairly full hair is meticulously parted, his dark suit perfectly tailored. Bespoke. A cane made out of dark wood is hanging from his crooked right arm.
The man’s eyes sweep over me briefly with the same amount of attention you would accord to a flowerpot standing in front of a wall somewhere.
He nods at Gabor’s secretary, giving a hint of a bow; then he’s already past me and leaving the waiting area.
I look over at Frau Schultheiss, who’s just putting down the phone handset. “You can go in now.”
Seconds later, I enter the enormous office.
There’s an immense floor-to-ceiling window, offering a wonderful view of the woods nearby. Six black leather chairs grouped around a dark wood table form the centerpiece of the room.
Gabor is sitting behind his large, modern desk, smiling at me openly as I approach him. His open laptop is in front of him. “Erik, nice to see you.” He gets up and walks around the desk toward me. That’s unusual. My sense of unease is getting stronger.
“Please, have a seat.” He gestures toward the furniture in the middle of the room. I opt for the chair closest to me.
Gabor crosses his legs and looks at me. In a friendly, but contemplative way. It seems like he’s considering how he should start the conversation.
Just as the silence is beginning to get uncomfortable, he sits up straight and sets his forearms on the desk. “Erik, you know that part of my philosophy is that my coworkers are more than just employees. Their well-being is very close to my heart. It’s not entirely selfless of me, of course, as I know people who are content are more efficient and, most of all, more productive than people with problems.”
There’s that contemplative look again. Four seconds, five … I don’t know how I’m supposed to react, so I simply nod. Is this the part where he drops the bombshell?
“I’m going to come out with it, Erik. Our colleague Morbach called this morning from the airport in London. He was very concerned about an incident at your house yesterday evening.”
So that’s it. Bernhard. How dare he discuss my private affairs with Gabor? This has nothing to do with the company. I have to pull myself together to stifle my anger.
“Oh, that.” I act in a pointedly casual way, even though I’d like nothing more than to jump to my feet. “My significant other, Jo, she was a bit confused yesterday evening. Nothing serious. She’s feeling better already.”
Gabor remains silent. Then he says, “I’m happy to hear that; that puts my mind at ease a bit. It sounded completely different on the phone this morning, though. Morbach said your girlfriend was trying to run away from you, wearing only her bathrobe. He said she didn’t recognize you at all.”
Bernhard, you fucking asshole. “Like I said, Jo was a bit disoriented yesterday. But it’s already worn off. She’s back home now, recovering.”
“All right. But still.” Gabor leans forward even farther, like he’s wanting to tell me a secret. “You’re one of the leaders here in my company. It’s important to me that you’re well in your private life, too. If there’s any way I can help, please do let me know. No matter what type of problem it is.”
“Yes, I will, thank you very much. But I think we’ll manage.”
That look again. “What would you say to a few days’ vacation? Take some time, take care of everything at home and recuperate. Isn’t it your birthday soon? So having some time off work would be well-timed, right.… What do you think?”
“Oh yes, my birthday.” I can’t bite back the comment. “Well, there’ll be a couple reasons to celebrate, right? Though maybe not for me…”
That needed to be said. Because somehow, I have the creeping suspicion he wants me completely out of the picture so I don’t see the contract being concluded at all, and now he’s seizing the first available opportunity. He probably wants to use the time to prepare my severance and appoint my replacement.
“Herr Thieben.” Gabor is now adopting a fatherly tone. “I can tell you’re under a lot of stress. I mean, you don’t usually react like this. You know what? I’ll just give you a week off. With full pay.”
“Thank you, that’s very generous. But I don’t think it’s necessary. I enjoy my work, it’s good for me. I’m going to end up getting frustrated if I just sit around the house all day.”
“All right then, Erik.” Gabor gets up and straightens his tie. I get up too. “I haven’t met your significant other, but do give her my regards. And if you need any help—my door is always open.”
“Thank you,” I say, gripping his hand. Then I start making my way back downstairs. A vacation. If Gabor thinks it’ll be that easy to sideline me, he’s dead wrong.