Kelly confronts linda; steve confronts robert

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...and knotted a towel around her body. 

What to wear? She had two big things happening today: she would be addressing all the headquarters employees in the atrium and the rest of the company around the world by video conference, as their new CEO; and she would be firing their old CEO. Firing an employee – any employee, even one who had attempted to manipulate the stock price and defraud the company – was the worst part of being a leader, but she would be lying to herself if she denied that a part of her was relishing the confrontation with Linda. 

Kelly still found it hard to believe that Linda would try to pull something like this off. Short selling Pyrotech stock, then doing everything possible to delay or sabotage Athena in order to bring about a dramatic drop in the share price – then make millions in ill-gotten profits. Of course, the idea and the details would have come from Robert - she had no trouble believing he would think of this – but he couldn’t do it without Linda, as CEO, going along with it, and without her money as margin for the borrowed shares. Linda would have to approve his decisions not to give funding to Steve for Athena – or just let him run roughshod on Steve and everybody else. She suspected it galled Robert having to depend on Linda instead of having the authority and capital to do it on his own.

So, Linda had gone along. For all her faults, Kelly hadn’t thought her so driven by greed that she could be a co-conspirator in something that wasn’t just illegal and unethical but was cruel and harmful to so many people – to Pyrotech employees and all other shareholders. All consuming greed in a woman who was already wealthy. Kelly shook her head in disgust. 

But the other thing that was so surprising was the fact that Linda actually did something, actually decided to do something and then took action. Kelly shook her head again as she considered Linda’s uncharacteristic behaviour. 

Damn, Linda, she thought, I didn’t think you had it in you. 

Of the many ways that she and Linda had clashed, Kelly knew that one of the simmering resentments Linda held against her was their differing weights: Kelly was slender and fit – she worked out and had a healthy diet – and had some help from her genes; Linda was…plump. Kelly didn’t care one way or the other, but it was obvious that Linda did – obvious because every time they stood facing one another, Linda sized Kelly up and down and her envy and resentment were palpable. 

Pyrotech was a technology company and its employees – especially anyone in engineering and development – dressed casually. She was their new leader. As she patted her hair dry, she decided on her outfit: jeans and a white blouse to appear before the company’s employees - skinny jeans and a fitted blouse for her showdown with Linda that would come before. 

She selected clothes from her closet like choosing weapons for the delicate savagery of female competition. 

Kelly, seated behind the desk in the CEO’s office – her office – swiped through the #omfgpyrotech tweets and posts that began trending last night. The early disclosure – okay, the leak – she had given Gianni and a very few other industry journos was catching fire on social media. 

She looked up as Linda pushed open the door, walked in, and stopped short. Linda turned her palms up and made a scrunched up what the fuck? face.

“Good morning, Linda.” 

Kelly turned her attention back to her tablet and tapped to bring up the Government of Canada Justice Laws website. 

“I happened to be reading the Criminal Code - because, you know, I do that in the morning – and stumbled across something you might find interesting. Listen to this: Everyone who, by deceit, falsehood or other fraudulent means, whether or not it is a false pretence within the meaning of this Act, with intent to defraud, affects the public market price of stocks, shares, merchandise or anything that is offered for sale to the public is guilty of an indictable offence and liable to imprisonment for a term not exceeding fourteen years.”

Kelly looked up at Linda. Her palms were still turned up, but her face had slackened and was draining of colour. After a moment, her arms fell to her sides. She said nothing; she just stared at Kelly. 

“Wow, fourteen years,” Kelly said, shaking her head. “By the time you get out, you’ll be an old woman.”

Linda swallowed hard. “I have no idea what your talking about.”

“Of course, you do, Linda. Your name is on the articles of incorporation of every one of the hedge funds. And, I’m guessing it’s your money Robert used for margin.” 

Linda stood rigid. Her face was now reddening. Her jaw was clamped tight. 

Kelly placed her tablet on the desk and folded her hands. “Linda, we’ve seen it all, the incorporation certificates, the financial statements, the two and a half million shares sold short. All we need to do is wrap it with a pink ribbon and drop it off at the OSC, and you’ll be wearing an orange jumpsuit and making toilet paper doilies in the Grand Valley Institution for Women – and, hey, orange is very slimming.”

Linda’s knees buckled and for a moment Kelly thought she might collapse, but she steadied herself, and to her credit, Kelly thought, Linda was holding it together, no tears, no hysterics. 

Kelly had imagined she’d enjoy - truly relish - Linda’s reaction to the thought of going to prison, but Linda wouldn’t be going to prison – neither would Robert, for that matter, provided they co-operated – and seeing the horror in Linda’s eyes was unsettling, and letting her continue to contemplate it was becoming cruel. Besides, she would shortly receive another blow, almost as devastating. 

“Relax, Linda. The OSC won’t find out about this; you’re not going to jail – provided you don’t breathe one word about the mischief you and Robert have been up to. Having you two arrested would damage the company’s reputation beyond repair and we can’t afford to let that happen.”

Linda had been holding her breath, and now let it out in a sigh of relief.

Kelly looked hard at Linda. “Are we clear on this, Linda?”

Linda nodded, tight-lipped.

“You’re welcome.”

A combination of relief at being spared a jail sentence but bitter disappointment at being discovered and the dawning realization of what it meant to life as she knew it, restored Linda’s voice.

“So, now you’re going to be the CEO of Pyrotech,” Linda spat. 

Kelly nodded. “Yes, I am.”

“So, you finally get what you wanted, bitch.”

Kelly regarded Linda with genuine curiosity. She had always been an enigma, her expression normally impassive, unreadable. But now, Linda’s face was tight, her jaw clenched, the colour rising in her cheeks: in her expression it was clear to see that her world was falling down around her. 

“Linda, you know nothing about me. You don’t have the slightest idea what I want.”

“Bullshit. You want what I have. You want my title, my office, my power.” Her voice rose steadily as she itemized her professional panoply. 

Kelly had felt intimidation, frustration, insecurity, belittlement from Linda; at this moment she felt pity.

“Linda, I’ve never competed for leadership, in my entire career. I’ve accepted it, when it’s been offered to me, I’ve taken it on when no one seemed willing to do it, but in the presence of a strong leader, I’ve willingly followed.” Her voice held no venom. “I would have willingly followed you, Linda – if only you’d led.” 

Now, Linda showed her a familiar face – a face Kelly had seen the few times when she’d witnessed someone disagreeing with her or challenging her – however slightly. A storm cloud passed over her features and left an icy chill. But, now, exposed and powerless, Linda held no threat. With the luxury of holding all the cards, Kelly took a moment to reflect: Linda’s reaction to being challenged was only one of many aspects to her character that showed her complete unsuitability to leadership; a strong leader expected her lieutenants in the field to give her straight answers and unvarnished truth – however, unwelcome it might be. In the time she’d known Linda – in the time she’d been her lieutenant - Kelly had never seen Linda seek out - much less accept when it was offered – straight up, hard, difficult truth about what was going on in the business. She just didn’t want to hear it. 

“When I got the offer to work here, from you, Linda, two years ago, I was ecstatic. I couldn’t believe it. I was going to work for one of the coolest most innovative, creative companies ever. And it was being run by a woman. It wasn’t even like it was going to be work. It was going to be”–Kelly, raised her eyes to the ceiling as she remembered and summoned the feeling she’d had then–-“it was going to be fulfillment. Every day. The payoff for everything I’d worked toward in my career.” 

Kelly lowered her gaze, back to Linda. “And, when I got here, I discovered that the company was being run by a matched set of assholes.” 

She stared at Linda who stared back. 

“That’s right, Linda, you’re his passive-aggressive equivalent, but you’re just as much of an asshole as Robert. And I call you an ‘asshole’ – a term we usually reserve for men – because that’s exactly what you are, and to choose a more gender appropriate term, a feminine equivalent, a euphemism, would be patronizing and sexist. No, you’re an asshole, pure and simple.”

Linda looked at Kelly with contempt. “Lucky for you, you’ve got Steve – a man – to figure this shit out for you.” 

So, Linda had put two and two together about her and Steve. Kelly couldn’t care less. 

She had a sudden, powerful, uncharacteristic and almost irresistible urge to say, “Guess what, Linda? Last night I fucked Steve McGregor right here on this desk – my desk.” She checked herself but hearing it and imagining Linda’s face in her mind, added considerable savour to the moment. 

Kelly smiled. “Well, I do have Steve – and he’s a man alright. And he did a nice job of gathering the facts. But, I put it together. What do they call that thing that we have?” 

She stroked her chin and stared at the ceiling. 

“Women’s intuition! There you go. I just put my scatterbrained lady mind to work and concluded that you and Robert Bokitis – and let’s be fair, Linda, the evil genius in this is Robert, not you – the two of you assholes were doing a halfway adequate job of trying to tank the company – and profit from the devastating loss that would have been borne by all the rest of us. Too bad how that worked out for you.”

So far, Linda had had to deal with the impact of having their plot exposed, which meant they wouldn’t be able to follow through on the short sale. Kelly presumed Linda was likely thinking that they would have to unwind their shorts: they would have to buy Pyrotech stock at around yesterday’s price of $9.79 and then return the shares to the brokers they’d borrowed them from so essentially, they wouldn’t make a penny – or lose a penny. 

But Linda didn’t have the slightest idea that Tyler’s simulator and Steve’s covert plan – he had called it “Trojan Horse” - with Chuck’s programmers, had actually brought the Athena product to its spectacular completion. It would be Pyrotech’s best product launch ever. 

So, Linda would be thinking that when Athena launched without it’s hottest features and not fully tested, she would just have to watch the stock price tumble and all the trouble she and Robert had taken to drive the stock price down would be for nothing because they couldn’t exploit it for their gain. 

But, she would think, at least it wouldn’t have cost her anything…

Kelly couldn’t help smiling. 

“Do you know what’s funny in all this, Linda?” 

Linda said nothing. 

“What’s funny, is that while you and Robert were concocting your little intrigue, to multiply your wealth by sabotaging this company – this storied company with thousands of people showing up every day and giving it their best – Steve and his team were hard at it, never giving up, figuring out a way to make Athena happen – on schedule.” 

She paused. “And guess what? They figured it out.” 

She paused again to let it sink in. Linda’s brow furrowed. 

“That’s right Linda. Athena will launch. Next week – the first week of September. Fully tested and with every single feature from the original design integrated and working beautifully. And it’s going to blow the competition away. And the stock will reach record highs. In fact, someone leaked it to the press last night”—she put her finger on her chin—“oops, and the stock has been going crazy in after-hours trading.” 

Kelly saw what looked like panic in Linda’s face – an expression she’d never seen before, and said, “Hey, let’s check BNN.” 

She hit the spacebar on her laptop and the screen lit up with the BNN web site already clicked through to Pyrotechnique’s stock chart.

“Wow, look at that.” 

Kelly turned the laptop around, so Linda could see it. “The stock’s at $12.56. Let’s see, it’s 9:15, the market opens in 15 minutes. I’ll bet the stock goes up like a rocket.” 

The colour had drained from Linda’s face. 

“So, if I’d shorted – I don’t know, let’s say – two million shares at – let’s say – 10 dollars. Man, I’d be looking for almost 5 million dollars, fast, to cover my position, before it got worse.” 

She stared coldly at Linda. “And make no mistake about it, Linda, it’s going to get a lot worse.”

Linda looked from Kelly to the screen. She stood slumped, with her arms hanging limply at her sides, her stomach lax, and protruding over the waist of her skirt. 

Linda would lose much of her remaining fortune covering the short positions. Her personal wealth had been far, far higher several years ago, in Pyrotech’s heyday, but, even with the stock price as low as it had been for the last few years, Kelly figured Linda must still have been worth millions. So why risk everything to do this?

“Linda, I have to ask. Why? Didn’t you have enough?”

Linda looked at Kelly with raw hatred and snorted. “Enough? What’s that?” 

Kelly stood. She picked up an empty cardboard box from the credenza and as she passed Linda on her way to the door, she held it out to her. Linda took it absently. At the door, Kelly turned. 

“Linda?” 

Linda, half turned to look at Kelly. 

“Get your stuff together, Linda. Take as much time as you need. But, be out of this office, and out of the building, by 10:00 am. Bitch.”

The office door swept open and Robert strode in – then stopped short when he saw Steve sitting behind his desk, resting his feet on the desktop, reading his tablet and smiling.

“Get your fucking feet off my desk.”

Steve looked up from his tablet to regard Robert with a pleasant expression.

“Well, if my feet were on your desk, Robert, I would take them off. But, we’ll come back to that. Hey, have you seen the stock price? It’s on fire. It was up 20% in after hours trading, and the market opens”—he looked at his watch--“in about ten minutes. You know what I think? I think it’s going to take off like a fucking rocket.”

Robert stood perfectly still but panic widened and animated his eyes.

“Why do you suppose that is, Robert?” 

Without letting Robert answer, Steve said, “I bet I know why.” 

He put his feet on the floor and lifted a manila folder to reveal a working Athena prototype. “I bet it’s because of this.” 

He picked up the Athena prototype and put his feet back on the desk. 

“Hey, look at this.” 

He proceeded to do a demonstration of Athena’s features, describing them, tapping and swiping and turning it around so Robert could see the screen. About halfway through the demonstration, he had covered all the minor features he had said in the last MC, would be ready. Then, he carried on: showing every single one of the advanced features – the incredible, game changing features, never imagined by anyone outside the Athena project room, the magic that would profoundly change Pyrotech’s fortunes – and that the executive team believed would never be ready for launch – which were working beautifully, right in front of Robert’s incredulous and horrified eyes. 

Robert, pale and now trembling, said hoarsely, “How? You sneaky bastard. You did all this behind our backs. You didn’t report any of this to the Management Committee. And, you didn’t have enough headcount. Where did you get the budget? How did you do the testing? How—“

“Robert, Robert, Robert. None of that matters.” 

Again, Steve put his feet down, placed the Athena prototype on the desk and reached for the manila folder. 

“But, I’ll tell you something that does matter.” 

He flipped open the folder and picked up the first page.

“Cyclops Hedge Fund Limited; directors Robert Bokitis and Linda Hines; shareholders Robert Bokitis and Linda Hines; a seal of the Registrar of Companies, Cayman Islands. 

“Let’s see…assets - cash of $273,240; liabilities $273,240 in 27,000 shares of Pyrotechnique.”

He dropped the page on the desk, in plain sight. 

“Robert, you’ve been a bad boy.” 

Through pursed lips, Robert said, “Judy, that little cunt.”

Steve felt heat rising to his face but stayed calm. 

“Actually, Robert, Judy had nothing to do with it. She barely even looked at your articles of incorporation. She saw your name and, fine person that she is, she brought them to you. She had no idea what they were.”

It was Steve’s turn to purse his lips. “You fired her for nothing, you stupid, stupid cocksucker.” 

Robert hadn’t breathed for almost a minute and drew in a deep breath. “Then how— “ 

“Well, Robert, leaving these in the photocopier took stupid to a whole new level, but you dodged that bullet. However…” 

He pulled the USB thumb drive out of his pocket. “You see, Robert, photocopiers, like women, have long memories. I downloaded the photocopiers memory onto this to make sure there was no Athena documentation in it – and look what I found.” 

He tapped the open folder on the desk with his finger tips.

“Fuck,” Robert said.

“Fuck indeed.” 

Robert stared venomously at Steve. “So, now what. You hand that file over to the OSC, the RCMP?”

“Well, Robert, as tempting as that is, I’m not going to do that. This is the luckiest day of your miserable, sorry ass life.”

Robert’s shoulders sagged from relief, but his expression was puzzled.

“No, Robert, as much as I’d love to see you in an orange jumpsuit, I’m going to hang onto this. The scandal would be way too damaging to Pyrotech, and the excellent work of so many good people, good hard-working, honest people, would ruined.”

Steve’s face brightened. “Hey, I just thought of something. Do you enjoy irony? I do. How’s this for irony: if I did give this wet steaming turd to the OSC, the negative publicity would cause the stock price to take a tumble and you’d be able to make all those millions of dollars – but you can’t buy very much happiness when you’re sitting in a 10x12 jail cell.” 

He started to laugh. 

Robert looked wretched. 

“Hey, here’s some more irony. I could probably give you and Linda the money to cover the loss - and I wouldn’t even feel it.” 

The truth was, that Steve would feel it – a little – but he wanted to rub in the fact that he was wealthy, and Robert desperately wanted to be.

“Imagine, the guy you shit on at every opportunity, could save your dumb sorry asses.” 

Robert’s shoulders hunched, and his body shrank obsequiously. “Steve, please, you don’t understand. Those—those shorted stocks, I don’t know if Linda has enough – and I can’t possibly cover them. I’m fucked.” 

“Robert, that would be fascinating—if only I gave a shit.”

Robert tried to restore his posture but could only straighten up about halfway; the horror of what was happening weighed too heavily on him.

Steve sat and looked at Robert agreeably. 

“But cheer up, Robert. You’ll have to put every penny of your savings into covering the losses, but your sugar mommy can probably just about cover it, with a measly million or so left over for her. But you - you’ll have diddly-squat.”

Steve waited a moment for that to sink in. Robert earned an executive salary; he was a middle-class working stiff who had probably managed to accumulate some savings – not nearly enough to be free of the necessity of working for a living – but all of it, would have to be thrown at the rapidly expanding debt he and Linda owed the brokers they’d borrowed the Pyrotech shares from. He would have less than he had before he started following the end of the rainbow to it’s pot of gold; he would have nothing. 

When Steve was sure that Robert had fully comprehended his situation, he continued. 

“You get to walk away from this without criminal prosecution, Robert, but on two conditions.”

Robert stared at him, listening.

“One: I never want to see your fucking face ever again. If you see me coming toward you, run don’t walk, as far away as fast as you can.”

Robert stood, waiting for the second condition.

“Two: if you ever fucking breath a word of this to anyone, if you even think too hard about it, I’ll be on you like ugly on a warthog; I will turn this over to the OSC and they’ll chew you up and shit you out. I will see you in prison, regardless of what happens to Pyrotech.”

The two men stared at each other. Steve had Robert by the ball sack and they both knew it.

Curiosity got the better of Steve. “Robert, I have to ask. If you’d gotten away with it…then what?”

Robert looked at Steve for a long moment. “Then, I could tell the whole wide world to fuck right off. Then, I’d never have to deal with anyone, ever again.”

Steve hadn’t thought much, or much cared, about what it was that motivated Robert to act like he did, or what could have driven him to take the monumental risk he’d taken with the stock price manipulation. But, with those few bitter words, he couldn’t help but wonder about the path that had brought Robert here, to stand in front of him, his life in ruins; what life of pain and rejection and disappointment had produced the sad, misanthrope that stood before him, ashen-faced, utterly defeated, now not even able to endure his loneliness and sought-after isolation, in financial comfort. Steve was surprised to feel something like empathy. 

Robert was now painfully aware of how profoundly his life circumstances had changed, and there was nothing he could do about it. His customary arrogance and nastiness were all he had left to hold on to.

He sneered at Steve. “I didn’t think you had the intelligence to figure it out.”

Steve smiled. “Oh, I didn’t figure it out; Kelly did.”

Robert nodded, and sneered again. “Of course. You’re fucking her.”

In one fluid motion – his moment of empathy passed and forgotten - Steve was out of the chair, around the desk and shoving Robert, hard, into the wall, gripping the lapels of his jacket in his fists. 

“If you ever speak disrespectfully about Kelly Chan, ever again, I’ll rip your fucking head off and kick it down the street.”

Robert reached up awkwardly and grabbed the collar of Steve’s jacket in one of his hands. The two men were flushed, teeth bared, breathing heavily into each other’s faces.

“Take your fucking hands off me, or I’ll call Security.”

Steve released Robert and stood back suddenly. He took a deep breath and calmed himself.

“That’s a great idea, Robert. Let’s do that.”

He looked towards the door and called out, “Security!”

The door swung open, and Jason’s massive frame filled the doorway. 

“Yes, sir. What do you need?” 

From the smile on his face, it was obvious he had been delightfully anticipating his cue, from just outside the door.

“Jason, Mr. Bokitis is leaving the building. Could you please help him find the door?”

“With pleasure, Mr. McGregor.” 

In a few long strides, Jason reached Robert, towering over him, and grabbed a handful of Robert’s collar and yanked him up. 

“This way, sir.”

Teetering on his toes, Robert sputtered, “Take your goddam hands off me. Do you know who I am? I’m the Vice-President of Finance of this company!”

Jason gave him a piteous look. “And I’m the Vice-President of I-Don’t-Give-a-Shit-What-Your-Job-Title-Is. This way, sir.” 

Jason started to haul Robert toward the door. 

“Oh, hold up for a minute, Jason.” He called out, “Lourdes!”

Lourdes, who like Jason, had clearly been standing just outside the door, walked blithely into the office. She wasn’t wearing her smock today but had on a light gray, silk sheath dress with a thin black leather belt closed with a silver clasp, and a black summer weight wool blazer, sleeves pulled to three-quarter length on her forearms, heels, and a pink Peruvian opal choker. She carried a cardboard box. 

“Robert, Lourdes was good enough to come in early to gather up your personal belongings to save you the trouble.”

“It was no trouble, sir,” Lourdes said, smiling sweetly. 

She heaved the cardboard box at Robert with a force that startled all three men. Instinctively, Robert reached out to catch it. The unmistakable, crunching, tinkling sound of broken glass was audible from inside the box as he bobbled it, and finally got hold of it. 

Smiling pleasantly at Robert, she said, “If you need help transporting your package, senor, I would be happy to offer you the use of my mule.” 

Robert’s mouth opened and closed. Steve nodded at Jason, and still holding Robert by the collar, Jason dragged him, stumbling, out the door.

Steve turned to Lourdes. “So, Lourdes, how’s your day going.”

“I would be willing to bet, much better than Senor Robert’s.”

Steve looked thoughtful. “This is the first shitty day of many shitty days to come for him.”

But he wondered if Robert Bokitis had ever had a truly happy day.