"No," she had to admit.
"A completely different world. You have to know how things are done to be effective. Particularly in China."
"And you have?"
"Lived in Shanghai for three years."
Mercy bit her lips together. Damn. He actually had an advantage on her. "Yet for some reason, they hesitated on giving you the job outright. I wonder why?"
She could feel him bristling and looking over at her; she felt his stare at the back of her head.
A light knock on the open door got both of their attention. "Let's meet in my office," Mr. Holland said. "Five minutes."
Mercy nodded and smiled. Now she would find out what her tasks were and she could get on with it, instead of sitting here sniping at Mr. I'm-too-cool-for-school. She was definitely going to try her absolute best, which she always did, but especially for the benefit of rubbing dirt in Lukas' face.
Turning back, she looked briefly over at her rival, and he at her. Game on, she thought.
Notebook in hand, she went in search of the bathroom before this meeting. Mr. Holland's meeting style was still to be determined, but she got the distinct feeling that leaving the room at any point would only give Lukas an opportunity to dis her. He seemed the type. Dirty.
When she returned, Lukas was already sitting on one of the metal and white leather chairs inside Mr. Holland's office. She smiled as she took her seat.
"So, this is going to be a really busy project," Mr. Holland started. "Mercy, I want you to gauge, record and analyze customer requirements. The system we're going to provide them will naturally be custom designed for them, so we need to know exactly what we are designing. And Lukas, you need to determine all the technical requirements of the system. Hence, you two need to work together."
Mercy swallowed through her serene smile. Well that just made the job ten times harder.
"Everything we have for the existing systems and processes will be provided, so I want a base functionality report by the end of the week. Got it?"
"Of course," Mercy said.
"Not a problem," Lukas said with such assurance it seemed nothing fazed him.
"We're meeting the client for dinner in two days' time, so have some understanding in case he asks you questions, but it's a dinner, not the time to drill him with questions. It's more a 'speak when spoken to' thing. Got it?"
Mercy nodded and they were dismissed. So Mr. Holland ran meetings like a military drill sergeant. Not necessarily a bad thing—better than sitting for hours with someone who liked the sound of their own voice. Somehow she suspected her desk was right next to one of those.
Now she had her task and she could start planning her workload. She would have to go see the clients, of course, to see what they do, how they do it and what they need. Where she could be spectacular would be in designing a product that far outpaced the current functionality, and for that she needed Lukas. But not yet. First she needed to create a wish list, and she wasn't going to be limited by what had been done in the past. True innovation came from looking at the impossible and questioning whether it truly was.
This was exciting. The whole project unfurled in her mind, and there was so much to do now. Firstly, she would talk to the people in the company that knew the client, the history and what they truly wanted. What they truly wanted and what they said they wanted were sometimes different things. Being able to see that was what made her good at her job.
Lukas didn't have a chance. He was stuck with having to provide to her vision. And obviously, she wasn't going to leave her future entirely in his hands—being that he had a very clear incentive in her failing.
Grabbing her notebook from her desk, she set off to talk to people. The salespeople would be a good place to start. They’d sold the project to the client, so it was important to know exactly what they’d sold, and what the client thought they were buying.
Lukas was sitting at his computer with his arms crossed. "Unable to think how to proceed?" she asked.
He gave her a dirty look. "I find careful consideration makes the implementation easy."
"You need something to implement first, or are you expecting me to do your work for you?"
"I doubt you could," he replied coolly. So stupidly confident with his own abilities. Mercy knew the type. Whether he actually had anything behind the bluster remained to be seen. She certainly wasn’t going to cover his ass in any way.
Marching out of the room, she went in search of the salespeople. Maybe she'd invite them to lunch to get to know them better. Honey was always more effective than vinegar, so the adage went, and it had always proven true in her book.
3
OVER THE WEEK, Mercy had learnt that restaurants that looked like a non-stop health violation served some truly fantastic food. Following her local colleagues, she ended up going to places she would never in a million years choose herself. The plates and cutlery were the worst possible quality, her aluminum fork would bend if she put the tiniest bit of pressure on it. The food, though, was fantastic. Chinese food here was nothing like what she got at home. They were worlds apart, and both had their merits.
Back at her desk, her thoughts and musing had taken over the entire whiteboard in her office. Another person had come to join her and Lukas, but they were very quiet and uninterested in interaction. Not that she and Lukas were interacting that much, other than dirty looks and the continuing jibes at each other.
What Lukas did, she had no idea. His desk was always spotless. Not so much as a pen on it when he left it in the evenings. There was no evidence of him doing any actual work other than the fact that he was there.
Each day, her brainstorming, as evidenced by the whiteboard, had grown larger and deeper. A picture was starting to form. It wasn't there yet, but enough for her to feel there was something there—something unformed, but important.
The initial meeting with the client had gone well. Introductions made at a dinner in a nearby restaurant. Mostly, she and Lukas were just sitting quietly while Mr. Holland and the client talked. Mr. Lee, his name was, and it had felt a little like the children should be silent while the grownups talked.
Mercy had smiled whenever attention came her way. Otherwise, she would take small slices of her chocolate cake on the tiny dessert spoon. Lukas, boring as he was, didn't do dessert. It probably didn't melt in his mouth. Mr. Congenial, he was not, and she had spent a good proportion of the meeting wondering if it did him a disservice with the customer.
Today, though, after lunch, it was time for the end of the week progress report, where all the people on the project would present where they were with their workstreams. Mercy was going to put up a picture of her brainstorming activities, and discuss some of the avenues she had been exploring.
That meeting was an hour away, and right now she sat with her colleagues in a restaurant that she wasn't sure had been properly cleaned in years. At least she wasn't sitting in the street, because one of the streets nearby her hotel turned into one long restaurant at night.
Jetlag and hard work had made her forego any kind of nocturnal exploration. Hopefully tomorrow. Being that this was a month-long job interview, she wasn't taking much of a weekend off. Maybe later, when she felt she had more of a grasp on things.
Nervousness was starting to set in about this meeting. It would be the first time she'd present to the team, and the first time they would really hear from her on anything—other than asking questions, which she had done relentlessly. There could be some people who were by now quite annoyed with her constant pestering, but it had to be done for her to understand the client and their requirements.
Next week, she would be going to see Mr. Lee's team in China, where she could then focus in on things the people within her company couldn't answer.
Everyone finished, they were starting to walk back to the office. The local team members gossiped about things she had no idea about, so she often found herself sidelined during many of their discussions and observations—and they discuss
ed everything.
Taking a moment back at her desk, she reviewed her presentation, noted down the things she couldn't forget and tried to imagine exactly what she wanted out of this meeting. Primarily, Mr. Holland's approval. At this point, there wasn't anything else she specifically wanted.
Then it was time to go. Her presentation was on the server and ready. Everything was ready. Others were having their turn before her, but she was too nervous to seriously listen. Nerves weren't normally her thing, but it was the first real interaction with the team, job-wise.
Lukas went up and he introduced a detailed survey of the existing systems, how they interlinked and what legacy systems were in play. There were schematics, network diagrams and bullet points of details.
She on the other hand only had one slide—her brainstorming.
"Right," she said as she stood up. "So I've been looking at the customer requirements ahead of actually meeting with the customer next week." With a smile, she looked around the room at the attentive faces looking back at her. "And I have done some exploration. Both of business objectives, functions and uses. And there are a couple of areas I think warrant further exploration."
Mercy went on, indicating to different areas of her brainstorm map. Finishing with, "Any questions?"
There was silence for a moment. It was hard to read people's faces.
"So all you did all week was throw some words up on the whiteboard?" Lukas asked.
Seriously, why was he talking? This had nothing to do with him. "Not words," she said through gritted teeth. "Concepts."
"Concepts," he repeated with an unimpressed voice. He made it sound like an enormous amount of work didn't go into getting the distinction and clarification that she had put up there. Sure, it looked messy, but it was a complex topic.
"It is important to break down the complexity of the topic."
"Looks more like a wholesale regurgitation."
Unfortunately, no one was coming to her rescue and Mercy felt a little betrayed. "Obviously, things aren't quite as black and white on the strategic level."
An audible snort came from Lukas and Mercy could have just about murdered him. What business was it of his to come in and voice his opinion about something he knew nothing about? An enormous amount of work had gone into creating this map, while he could just pull off some old schematics and it was all revealed to him. Most of his presentation was just copies of other people's work. Completely not on the same level.
"So next week," she said, turning her attention back to Mr. Holland, who wasn't giving her much encouragement in his stoic expression, "I need to push the client a little toward the core benefits they seek out of the system. What it is they really need and for what purposes."
There was silence for a moment, and Mercy had no idea how people were reacting. Finally Mr. Holland said, "report back next Friday. Ming, in my room in ten." That was all he said, then he got up and left.
Mercy felt disappointment bite into her, for the fact that no one had come to the defense of her process. This was necessary and valuable. They were idiots if they didn't see that.
Lukas seemed pleased as he left the room, along with everyone else.
It wasn't as if Mr. Holland had shot her down, or shared any negative views. The negativity had exclusively come from Lukas. What an utter dick.
Grabbing her notebook, she returned to the desk, where he was already seated at his computer. She was too angry to speak to him, but hoped he'd come to realize that he'd just shown his own lack of understanding of complex processes.
Dick.
Unfortunately, they would have to travel together next week. At no point was she going to make it easy for him. They would work in completely separate streams, and in the end, he would have nothing to present because he wouldn't know what she was proposing. If he weren't an idiot, he'd see that he needed her stuff to actually propose something. How would it look if whatever solution he presented didn't match what she was doing? She wouldn't put it past him.
But she also refused to stay silent. He'd had a go at her competence and that couldn't be stood for. "Perhaps in the future, if you don't understand what it takes to analyze complex issues, maybe you are better off not divulging it," she said tartly. Turning around and looking at him wasn't something she could bring herself to do.
"Is that so?" was all he said.
"Kind of showed your lack of understanding," she went on, feeling better. A point had been scored. Unfortunately, she didn't know if his lack of understanding was given any credence by others. He could still have done her harm. "Innovation and inspiration don't come from rehashing old paradigms."
Another point. And the fact that he had no comeback showed she'd scored. You want to dish it out, you have to take it.
Whatever damage he'd done, she would disprove it next week, when this seemingly messy brainstorming started to take on more meaning. No one appreciated the beginning of the process. As for him, though, considering that he needed to come up with technical requirements, inspiration was probably not on the cards.
4
WITH A SIGH, LUKAS put down the plastic cup of coffee on the table between him and Mercy. They hadn't spoken since they'd gotten on the train and they were currently speeding through the landscape of Southern China. It was gray outside and they passed through some grim-looking industrial cities.
The tight set to her lips and the diverted eyes more than told him she was angry with him. It was a look he'd gotten from women before—fairly regularly. Often, they simply couldn't handle the truth.
As opposed to what she'd stated, her presentation on Friday went over the most logical things. But to her it was gold. Considering what she put up there, she had no choice but to be on the offensive. All she'd managed to do was restate the current situation.
Taking a sip of his coffee, he watched her as she read her paper. She was wearing a tight navy suit jacket and a white shirt underneath. The cup back on the table, he drummed on the edge with his fingers.
"What did you do over the weekend?" he asked. At no point had he seen her, but then she could be staying at a different hotel. With corporate booking, though, it was unlikely.
She didn't bother looking up. "Walked around for a bit, then worked."
"I never work on the weekend. I find the idea offensive."
Finally, she looked up. "Like I said, the more work in the preparation, the better the outcome."
"Who told you that?" Perhaps he was arguing with her just to relieve the boredom of being stuck on this train.
"The people that matter," was her non-committal answer.
Lighting flashed in the distance and he turned his attention to the large train window. If he got this job, he was going to do this journey a hundred times.
The conversation died and Lukas was bored. "You ever competed for a job before?"
"No," she finally said.
"Me, either."
"Like I said, they obviously have some concerns about you."
"Do you continuously cover the same points over and over again. You're like a broken record. You don't like me—I get it. Try some new conversation."
With a tightening mouth, she drew her paper higher so it covered her face. "Mr. Holland is really not going to be impressed if you refuse to work with me. It will end your time here and you'll be shipped home, probably before the month is up," he said.
"Some allowances must be made for refusing to work with offensive colleagues."
"Nope. Can't handle an offensive colleague, then how will you handle a difficult customer?"
Finally, she folded the paper and put it down on the table. "I've never had a problem working with offensive people. I just do so when necessary. You have nothing to offer, so why bother? Why is there something pertinent about what you are doing that I need to know about? From what I saw on Friday, not really."
She really could be bitchy when she wanted to. Lukas smiled and leaned back a little deeper into his chair, straightening his legs under the
table.
The burst of another train passing pushed the train slightly and he couldn't help the adrenalin that filtered into his blood at the sudden disturbance.
"Why do you think you were picked for this?" he asked.
"Because I'm very good at what I do."
"So you have no idea."
"Is that what I just said? I'm getting some chips or something," she said, getting her wallet out of her purse and getting up to walk down the train toward the cafeteria car. Her purse was sitting open, but Lukas wasn’t going to rifle through it. Apparently, she obviously trusted him enough to guard her purse.
Biting his lips together, he looked out the window again. It was going to be a really long day. They'd set off right before dawn and would return after dusk. His companion was grumpy now, so he expected her to get worse by the time they boarded this train back.
Returning, she placed a cup of tea on the table, along with a small bag of chips. It was an unfamiliar brand with Chinese characters on it. Pulling it open, she took one chip in her mouth and considered the flavor. It must have met with approval because she took another, crunching down on it.
"Are you considering dumping some boyfriend to move here?" he asked.
"None of your business."
"Sounds like a no to me." She gave him a face, then returned her attention to her chip packet, crunching noisily as if she relished inflicting the destruction. So Mercedes Wright was single. She didn't look like the type who would dump a boyfriend for sheer ambition, but you never knew.
"How long have you been with the company?" he continued.
"Two years. You?"
"Four." The answer didn't please her. "Spent two years in engineering, then the last two in sales."
"So you're an engineer by trade," she said.
"I studied technology."
"You look like the type who would study technology."
"What does that mean?"
"You just have that look."
"As opposed to a commerce student?" he fired back.
Seduction in a Suit: An Office Romance Collection Page 100