Can Am Story

by Oliver Rill

  When I reached Californian or Can Am on the 6th floor, I sent Aristo into my office, then said hello to Matt.

  “How’d it go?” he asked eagerly before I could get a word out. I had wanted to ask him about his date had gone, too.

  “There was applause, but I also got the proverbial ‘clip ‘round the ear’.”

  “Why?”

  “Because we didn’t include an economic forecast. We have to submit one now. How are the slots going?”

  “We’ve got slots everywhere. We just need six more at LAX.”

  “And what’s happening with that?”

  “You have to meet Alan Lorenzi. He has given you all the free slots that he had.”

  “Make an appointment with him – as soon as you can, free up the time in my diary. Right now, send Mark to my office. And then sit down and work on the figures for the forecast. I’m going to need them by this evening. Sorry, Matt, but we are under a bit of pressure here today.”

  I closed the door behind me, sat down and looked at Aristo.

  “You are going to have to give me an answer to a difficult question, ‘Risto. I know that you don’t usually make definite plans, but right now I need that.”

  “Are you going down on one knee?” He joked.

  “Something similar. I can get you a green card. BUT and it’s a big but. You have to be working here. You have to work here between September and May at least. Every year. Probably more like September to June. If you would rather keep it at a fortnight’s holiday, or maybe three or four weeks, then that’s ok, we won’t do the green card. It is expensive and it’s a lot of work for JB Homes to do the application. Think about it. If you do want the green card, then we will go for it, but there’s no going back on the decision.” Aristo leaned back, a thoughtful expression on his face.

  “And what would the job entail?”

  “To start with I need you to look after the offices at Venice, obviously with or without a green card. Then we’ll see what you fancy. We’ve got a load of jobs in the pipeline, we’re setting up new work stations, … there’s just a whole load of stuff to do and you could have your finger in a lot of pies, then decide which one you want to stick with at a later date.”

  “It’s not really that simple.”

  “What? You want to spend the rest of your days standing around on the main dirt track through Sifnos waiting for someone to come in and buy a T-shirt from you? Or do you want to take your future into your own hands, be an important part of a big company and, thanks to your boss and best friend, have loads of holiday during the summer months?”

  “My family …”

  “If I remember correctly, it was your Mom who said anywhere is better than Greece!”

  “And where would I live?”

  “You will have a salary and you could find an apartment that suits you, of course.”

  “Can I sleep on it?”

  “Sure, just as long as you know that I really want you here and something big is coming off here. It’s your chance!”

  Mark knocked and I told Aristo he could go over to Venice or go home or go to the tennis courts if he wanted. I was going to be busy for a while, but we’d see each other this evening around the pool.

  I presented Mark with the new Can Am, logo, brand, and aims and told him he could start selling again, including the new routes. I let him know which of the routes we were flying and from which dates, went over the prices and the sales points. Mark was hopping with excitement. I smiled at him. His passion for the job was evident and infectious.

  Doug popped in and passed us a USB stick. We shouldn’t say anything, but that might be useful for tomorrow. We opened it up and my heart sang. There was no way Matt and I could have produced these figures and presented them in such a professional format. Doug had saved our lives. One thing became very clear. We needed a Doug for Can Am and quickly!

  I asked Matt if he wanted to go eat, but his no was friendly and firm. That felt like yet another slap in the face on this beautiful day. First the presentation, then Aristo’s cool reception of my offer and now even my assistant didn’t want to have lunch with me.

  I got in the Jaguar and took my luck at the airport administration. I hadn’t rung beforehand to make an appointment. Strangely enough, Lorenzi was able to see me and we got on like a house on fire. Alan was a nice guy. What he didn’t know about LAX wasn’t worth knowing. Small and wiry, he had jet-black hair and in contrast to that, bright intelligent looking blue eyes. A Celt. His smile had you feeling the pull of your own lips into an answering one as you interacted with ease with this eternal student. Alan explained that he had slots free in theory, but they belonged to other airlines who just weren’t using them at the moment. He could put pressure on them to either give them up or use them, but American Airlines were one of the big companies, that he didn’t want to upset. I pulled my BlackBerry out and called Chambers. I told him that if he didn’t give the slots up for me, then he could kiss goodbye to our agreement with the Boeings. It wouldn’t look good on the balance sheet and he would give his investors a headache. I could hear how pissed off he was and gave him the times of the slots that I wanted. I told him I was sitting in Lorenzi’s office and that a fax would be enough then I would owe him one. Half an hour later Lorenzi had his fax with six slots previously owned by American Airlines, destined for Can Am use. We didn’t have to pay a penny!

  “Alan, I’m going to invite you to dinner. If you need anything from me at all, let me know. Ok?”

  Back in the office I let everyone know the good news and ran over to the technical department to tell Steve to give me firm dates when the new planes would be ready, so that I can get the new flights advertised and sell tickets.

  Amanda stomped into the office, she looked hassled and harassed. She did congratulate on our news, but the telephone was ringing off the hook and there were constantly emails and inquiries about the vacancies. I asked her if there were anyone in the applications who looked as if they might be good at PR. She shook her head.

  “You’ve only just got the ad out online this lunchtime. Why would we already have applicants?”

  She was right of course. I pulled out the student’s details again. Rebecca had marketing and business studies and she hadn’t done too badly in the drawing test either. I called her up and asked her if she was available right now.

  She breezed into the office within an hour. I sat her opposite Amanda (which, of course, upset Amanda further)

  “If you don’t like it, Amanda, you can work in the corridor. I’ve only got these rooms at the moment and we are all going to have to squeeze for a while.” I explained the concept of the airline to Rebecca, what stage we were at and what we wanted to do. I asked her to take all the inquiries, log into my calendar and to bombard me with questions if she had to.

  She looked at me with her round, fresh skinned face and with an infectious laugh showing just a glimpse of her perfect white teeth, asked for two days to develop a strategy, brief me on what I may or may not say in public and to get a press release out. I felt myself melting under her red haired, green-eyed influence.

  Back to Matt. Somehow I felt that I had been snubbed by him.

  “Are we running tonight?” I carefully felt my way.

  “Oh I’m sorry, I can’t tonight. Something has come up. Unless you need me in the office?” He was really going overboard with the cold shoulder! I didn’t trust myself to reply but went into my office without a word and focused on that infernal menu from LSG to hide how miserable I felt.

  I drove home later and took a couple of applications with me that came in during the afternoon. As I drove through the traffic, I reflected. The student had been the highlight of the afternoon and, well yes, my presentation did sort of hit the floor with a bump, but I was relieved that it was out of the way. Then there was the situation with my assistant. I could only blame myself for that. I had wanted him to go out with a girl. Why had I let it get so far? It wasn’t as if I was too naive to know
what was going to happen. Now we had to work with this stupid atmosphere between us.

  Aristo was sprawled by the pool with a beer, chilling.

  “Hey how are you doing?” I greeted him.

  “I got to meet Gavin. He’s ok. Does he really do our washing?” I dropped the folders on the table next to Aristo’s sun bed and sat on the edge of it.

  “Of course, that’s what he’s here for.”

  “And he’s even cooked for us. Something with rice and chicken. You have to taste it, it’s great! I think I’m going to stay here. Pool, car, tennis full bed and board … What’s not to like?”

  “Was that a firm decision or a fanciful moment?” I asked.

  “90 percent sure. Yes.”

  “We’re flying to Francisco the week after next. That will be the first flight of our newly fitted out and painted new acquisitions.”

  “Really, cool. Are we doing something particular there?”

  “I think we could probably have a look around the town.”

  “Is Matt coming?”

  “I don’t know. It’ll be weekend. He can if he wants.”

  “Oli, if you are hungry I’ll heat some of this food up. Then you can get on with your stuff there.”

  At nine the next morning I woke Aristo and we had breakfast. Then he drove to the Venice offices and I returned to my office. Matt was already there and I gave him two piles of folders. One he had to arrange interviews with and another pile of ‘thank you, but no thank you’ letters.

  “How long should each interview take?” He asked. I was itching to ask what he had gotten up to yesterday, but I bit the question back.

  “About 30 minutes. There are 40, so it’s going to have to be quick. Best block off all this week.”

  Later Rebecca and I sat in my office and went through her press release. We discussed what I was allowed to say in public and what not.

  “You have to be real careful. They will try to put words in your mouth and trick you into saying what you shouldn’t. Stick to those sentences there,” she said, giving me a list of sentences. “It’s maybe best if you learn them off by heart. Really. Learn them by heart as you did in school. Reporters are like sharks. They’ll ask you where you come from, how much you earn, if you are married or in a relationship, your background, and if you go off script by so much as a hairbreadth, or can’t think of an answer, they will make one up. And it won’t be one you like. Not you, and the customers even less.”

  I had the paranoid feeling that press interviews were more of a battle ground or ‘the hunter and the hunted’ situation than an opportunity to smile nicely and promote the airline. Suddenly I didn’t’ feel so confident.

  When Rebecca and I were done, I called Matt into the office.

  “Sit down. How are things with you?”

  “Good, thanks. Did you go running yesterday?” He smiled.

  “No, I was busy with the applications and sat by the pool to read them, had something to eat, drank a beer with ‘Risto and then swam for a while.”

  “You should swim after running. But you are going running today, aren’t you?” I had hoped that he was going to use the pronoun in the plural and that ‘we’ were going running instead of the second person singular, ‘you’ but I hoped in vain.

  “Yeah, I’ll go running maybe. Maybe ‘Risto will join me.”

  “It’s more fun with two of you!” He rejoined with more energy than was necessary, which only emphasized the snub. I decided not to ask about yesterday, nor about tonight.

  “Matt could you see if we could book the conference hall for an hour? And then I want to see if the economic forecast is ready for Ad.”

  “Oliver the forecast is ready and I have sent it to you by email already. There are two versions. Open them up and we’ll have a look at them together.” Matt came around the desk and stood behind me, leaning over my shoulder to see the screen. I felt the warmth of his body and breathed in his subtle perfume. Help me Lord!

  “Ok. The first figures are very similar to that that Doug produced. See here, underneath, Doug has planned for further expansion. And here is his average revenue per client. There he added five percent as an increase, but we’re assuming 20 percent.”

  “What does his expansion look like?”

  “Doug assumed a total of 40 planes by the end of 2017.”

  “Good, Chambers has more than a thousand planes. 40 is nothing compared to that.”

  “So you reckon that 40 is realistic? Ok, I will just make a few amendments. It won’t take five minutes. Or do you want more than that. Doug was quite careful in his assumptions.”

  “Leave it at 40 for now but keep our revenue per guest at 20 percent!”

  I sent the figures to Ad and got a call from him five minutes later.

  “That’s what I was looking for yesterday. The prognosis looks quite good, even if it is a bit optimistic. Think about this: The press is really hot at the moment. You will never get such great publicity so cheaply again unless of course you do a streak at the Superbowl next year!”

  Over the next few days I had a press marathon in the office each day from nine a.m. to ten at night and was chairing the interviews for applicants as well. Rebecca often accompanied me to the press meetings, and she arranged the press flight to San Francisco too. It was all very strenuous and tense. I was just as nervous before each interview as I was for the presentation I had done for Ad. I was terrified of saying the wrong thing. That was probably the reason I kept to the instructions that Rebecca had pounded into me so unwaveringly. The mellow evenings that Matt and I used to spend together, were now a thing of the past as he slipped further and further away from me. Even though he remained polite and friendly his attitude seemed distant.

  Unusually it was nearly midday as I woke up on Saturday. I had obviously needed the rest. Aristo was lounging next to the pool and asked if we were going to run over to the Venice offices. I could look at the progress they had made and then we could go for a run on the beach or play ball. At any rate, he was going to drive. That would be a nightmare for me, I was the original back seat driver and very nervous, but hey! What wouldn’t I do for my little brother?

  The upper floor was almost finished. The layout had been remodeled, the walls painted, electrics in, and the bathrooms were updated. On the floors below there was still construction going on. Walls were half built and the ceiling was open in places with wires hanging down.

  “It’ll be finished by Friday at the latest!”

  “Aristo, you have done a fantastic job! Have you organized the move yet? Do you want to ring Debbie for the décor?” Aristo shrugged.

  “Do you need me to do that too? Yeah, ok. I’ll look into it on Monday.”

  “You’d best call her right now. She needs a lot of notice. You can do the rest on Monday.”

  Aristo and I ran down to the beach and jogged for a good half hour. I would never have thought it, but I enjoyed it and somehow, after the tense week I had had, I needed it. It definitely made me feel a whole load better. I still couldn’t imagine running a whole marathon, or even a whole hour, but 30 minutes got all those endorphins moving!

  After, Aristo suggested a drink with the guys who were working on the Venice offices, but I didn’t fancy it. I still felt exhausted, so I told Aristo to go ahead and I would just go home, shower, watch a film then collapse into bed.

  “I’m not your mother, but you’d better take a cab. I’ll give you some money for it. Buy the guys a drink or pizza or something and give me the receipt.”

  Aristo left, waving a cheery goodbye and I slobbed out on the couch with water, juice, a plate of prawns with Gavin’s home-made sauce and some vegetable sticks keeping me company on the side table. I put a film on and wondered whether I was going to make the end of it. I did hold out though, I even started a second and got half way through before my eyes drooped.

  Shortly before two I was startled awake by the doorbell. I hurried to the door, but it wasn’t Aristo, as I had expected, wi
thout his key, it was Matt.

  “I don’t care what you think of me. I resign!” He cried, swaying slightly on the doorstep. He had had a fair skin full I would say.

  “Matt, come in and sit down first and have a glass of water.”

  “No. I don’t want to sit down.” He swayed into the room and I wasn’t sure what I should do. “Oli, you have hurt me so much, you know. Have you any idea how much? I trusted you and you just kept giving me the cold shoulder. Do you know how much that hurts?”

  “Matt, calm down and sit down first and we’ll talk about it.” I ran into the kitchen and fetched him a bottle of water. “Here, drink that. Now tell me, what on earth is the matter?”

  “What’s the matter? You have been treating me like a piece of shit all week. Ever since your ass-licking Greek arrived, I’ve just been air to you. Just more and more work and ‘Matt do this and Matt get that’.” He did at least drink the water. Then slammed down the bottle with a flourish removed his T-shirt. “You want this, huh? Have a good look, Oli!”

  “Matt, please. Can’t we talk about this calmly?” I moved towards him carefully, but he drew back.

  “Is he better than me?”

  “You know that we’re only friends! What is all this? Sit down and get dressed!”

  “You get me dressed if you can’t bear the sight of me!”

  “Don’t be like that, Matt. Let’s talk, ok?” Now I went up to him, took his hand and led him to the sofa firmly. I sat next to him.

  “I have really missed having you about, Matt.” He looked at me through beery eyes, his thoughts crowding out of his mouth.

  “You treated me like a servant all week. And I slept with five women. Five! Get it? I am not gay!”

  “Okay Matt. I get it. You aren’t gay.”