4. The Meeting Ran Late

4

The Meeting Ran Late

NICOLE LAMB

At six-ten, Nicole stood on a curved-back chair and clinked a spoon against her thick pint glass, yelling, “Okay! Hey! Can I have your attention, please?”

Fifty or so of Sidewinder Golf’s employees had taken over the back room of the bar. Wait staff roved between the tables, delivering appetizer baskets and burgers to people spouting, “This is bullshit!” and “So that’s how Joe Flanagan wants to do it, huh? Just an email out of the dark, no notice?” and “I’ve already got my resume out to three different companies,” and “I’ve got a party this weekend where I’m going to network like a bat out of Hell.”

The new guy, Kingston Moore, had found a seat over with the rest of the salespeople he’d met that afternoon after she’d finished the tour. Gia Terranova was hanging on his shoulder, holding her beer out for him to tap in response to whatever she’d toasted.

Whatever.

Nicole clinked the spoon harder against her pint glass. “Hey! One moment of your time please!”

Everyone simmered down and turned, shuffling their chair legs on the cement floor.

Nicole had planned ahead of time with her lab people and some admin friends to commandeer the big, round table in the middle of the room. Thus, she was now, spatially speaking, the center of attention.

Even Kingston Moore had turned away from Gia and the other sales crew and was watching her, his gaze as sharp and unyielding as when she’d been putting on a show with the swords.

“Thank you for coming tonight,” she called out, uncomfortable as heckers with taking over the room. Everyone else was dithering about what they, in the singular sense of they, were going to do as an individual.

And since no one else had stepped up, Nicole would take over and lead.

She continued, “As we all found out in a darned email this morning, a venture capital firm named Last Chance, Inc. bought Sidewinder Golf for an undisclosed sum and considerations, whatever the heck that means.”

The jeers and cheers felt supportive, so she went on. “In the words of Benjamin Franklin, ‘If we don’t hang together, we will surely hang separately.”

Laughter.

Good.

“So, whatever happens the next few days or weeks, we can influence the outcome. We can make sure that we’re all on the same page when we talk to this evil VC firm, and we can hang together!”

With raucous laughter and a smattering of applause, Nicole climbed off her chair while Arvind steadied the back, but Kingston Moore was holding onto the back when she looked up.

“That was quite a speech you gave,” he said, smiling.

His smile was really something to behold: charming crinkles surrounding his blue eyes, white teeth showing, seemingly on the verge of a genuine laugh.

“Yeah, well, people were freaking out today,” she said, her shoes finally resting firmly on the slightly sticky bar floor. “You almost walked in to find an empty front desk and no one in HR to do your paperwork, let alone anyone in the lab to work on the new designs.”

“New designs?” he asked, leaning in.

Nicole continued, “And so I organized this get-together to keep everyone from literally walking out of the company today. I don’t know how long I can hold Sidewinder together. The fact that we haven’t heard jack-shoot from our new VC overlords is messing with people’s heads.”

Kingston looked upward at the wagon-wheel chandeliers hanging above the chattering, noshing crowd. “Good point.”

“These Last Chance folks are some dumb evil venture capitalists?—”

“Evil venture capitalists, you say?”

“Yes. Evil. And dumb. They should know that the most qualified people will bolt first, leaving their new acquisition short-handed and with a drawer full of the dullest knives.”

“That is an excellent point,” Kingston said.

“Yeah, well, I figure they’ve got until tomorrow at noon to get their act together and start communicating before there’s a mass exodus.”

Kingston nodded, then said, “I’ll have to watch for that email while I’m on the plane back East tomorrow morning.”

Gravity dragged at Nicole’s shoulders and pressed on her neck, and fighting it to move her feet felt too difficult to contemplate. “Oh. I didn’t know your stay would be so short.”

His gaze found her eyes again. “I’ll be back soon.”

Sure, but not much. “Most of the remote sales guys only come into the office once a quarter or so.”

His soft smile was slow, and he held her gaze the whole time. “I’m not most guys.”