Money For Nothing

by Dom Price

  “Look mate. You don’t need to worry about them. Worry about you. If you put your best foot forward and do what you are good at, you’ll be fine. And kids parties can sometimes be fun you know.”

  Tony had matured gracefully, and Dave was glad to have him as a mate and as a brother in law, but for sessions like this, Dave couldn’t trust his advice. When they’d married and had their first two children, Dave was secretly sad. Tony had lost some of his edge or his spark. There was no doubt whatsoever that he made a brilliant husband to Dave’s sister Anne, and an amazing father to the children, but he was just so….safe. It was hard for Dave, and he struggled to reconcile the information before him. Two people who smiled so much and seemed so full of joy, yet they’d given up so much and compromised what seemed to be a back catalogue of fun experiences, for what? Dirty nappies, arguments about money and demands for more of everything. Just seeing them together sapped Dave’s inner strength, and reminded him that without doubt, he was better off alone. The path to partnership would be fraught with obstacles, tests and demands on every part of his psyche, and he didn’t need a bird getting in the way and jeopardizing that.

  “So how are you doing on the lady front then? Any progress of extending the Marsdon family tree?”

  “HA! As if I‘ve got time for a distraction like that? Don’t worry mate. I’ve got options. I am just choosing not to exercise them right now.”

  This wasn’t technically true. Throughout his early 20’s, Dave had experienced some sporadic dalliances with a variety of girls, all with the longevity of yesterdays newspaper. It wasn’t that they were all hideous or anything. When he did dip his tow into the world of the opposite sex, Dave prided himself on his standards. Unfortunately, lack of match practice often meant that his standards and his ability weren’t correlated, and many nights out fishing would end up with him returning to the bachelor pad with just his rod in his hand.

  Across the city, a parallel conversation was taking place between some of Dave’s colleagues.

  “I wonder what it’s like in his world?”

  “Lonely probably! I think it’s a town with a population of one.”

  “Yeah, but he is doing well for himself eh? He’s got the pad, the car, the money and has to be a dead cert for the promotion? I’d even put a tenner on him if my missus hadn’t banned me from betting!”

  “Oh perrrlease! I can’t tell you the number of times I’ve wanted to take the chip off his shoulder and shove it up his arse!”

  “Oh, come on guys, he isn’t that bad. Maybe he got dropped on his head as a child or something. Look, he means well enough, and I genuinely feel for him. He might be successful, but he hasn’t got anyone to share it with. I wouldn’t trade places with him, would you?”

  Nobody responded, and the brief silence was interrupted by the waiter coming along to take their order. Whilst Dave’s attributes annoyed them and polarized them, they all knew that they wouldn’t trade their lives for his. At the same time, each of them had a good amount of respect for any guy who could fast track as quickly as he had. At the tender age of 27, he was all lined up with his ducks in the metaphoric row, and ready for a promotion to partner at CEC Services, despite being 4 years younger than his nearest compatriot. Some wanted his panache. Most wanted his client interaction skills and sharp business mind. A few wanted his car and music collection. None of them wanted his single mindedness or loneliness.

  Tony didn’t want anything from Dave. Tony stood proud at 5ft8 and 10 stone 3, making him the average height and average weight. In fact, Tony epitomised average in every way. His favourite word was maybe. He was outstandingly mediocre and excelled at being run of the mill. Dave often thought that if you looked up ‘default’ or ‘normal’ in the dictionary, that you’d see a picture of Tony doing not very much. Still, it was great for Dave to have Tony in his life. He personified safe.

  “So you don’t want a woman ever then?”

  Dave took a long swig of his beer. “Tony, lives are like journeys and journeys travel along a path. My path hasn’t got room for a woman right now. You know if I wanted to, I could. Now isn’t the right time.”

  “Well don’t wait too long. By the age of 27 the average guy has got himself a lady.”

  “Ah Tony. The average never wins.”

  “True, but the average never comes last either. You don’t wanna wait ‘til all the good ones are gone. Or worse, one that’s already had her fair share of journeys before you get your hands on her.”

  Dave was thinking of an adequate response but couldn’t. Their lives were too different. Dave was juggling multiple glasses, some half full, some half empty and some in desperate need of attention. Tony didn’t have any glasses. He much preferred plastic as it was much more reliable with the kids. And his plastic was neither half full nor half empty. Dave decided that a half truth would resolve this topic for now.

  “There was someone the other week. An interest. But I didn’t pursue it. Let’s just say that if I wanted to, I could. Another beer?”

  “I don’t mind. I’ll have one if you are.” That was the most decisive Tony had been all year.

  ***

  Chapter Signed, Sealed and Sung

  ***

  “It’s all about getting PPT right. People, Process and Technology.”

  Dave thumped his fist into his open hand with each word to emphasise his point. “Once we align their DNA and recalibrate output measures to monitor real success, then we can maximise the rate of change by empowering the end users and using Helicopter Management for minimal intrusion. There are just too many interdependencies to do it any other way.”

  The entire boardroom was smiling and nodding with confidence, yet not one person knew exactly what Dave was talking about. For someone as evangelical as Dave, the content didn’t matter. It was believable and everyone in the room wanted to buy it. Whatever it was.

  The client had been won over with his snazzy presentation and his model for change that he was going to use to rejuvenate one of the fledgling business units. The PPT Model that Dave had wowed them with utilised his “Rule of 3” and further enforced his belief in keeping things in 3’s. What made the victory sweeter was that Dave had won the work against competition from a rival firm.

  Dave’s PowerPoint presentation, designed by Laura, had also maintained the Rule of 3 principles, and had 3 concentric connected circles in the style of Olympic rings, showing People, Process and Technology and their overlaps. “Good girl” he thought to himself as he rounded off the presentation.

  The euphoria on this win wasn’t in the client, the effort or the reputation that came with it. Dave was focused on the end goal, and a high profile win like this was sure to be on the final pillars in his path to partnership. Getting the amazing news late on a Thursday meant that all the normal people had left the office, with only Dave and his PA Laura, still keeping the chairs warm. With the end in sight, and wanting someone to share his news with, Dave suggested a quick celebratory drink with Laura, and they were soon parked up on bar stools in the local wine bar, accompanied by a decent bottle of the best fizzy. Dave loved splashing out when someone else was paying.

  This was a slightly foreign situation for Dave. His interactions with Laura were normally earlier in the day and centred around a strong coffee rather than France’s finest Champagne. To be as consistently successful at business as Dave was, he was a firm believer in routine and structure. On the mornings where he didn’t convince himself of the need for a lie-in, he’d meet his PA at 6.30am, in Café Bella. Laura Jones was an accomplished assistant, but she’d not been picked for her ability. Recruited by Dave’s previous boss who’d since moved on, Laura was aesthetically amazing, and many of the guys in the office would admire her at every opportunity. Dave’s appreciation was mainly professional, as “Luscious Laura” as she was referred to around the water cooler, would arrive every morning and give Dave his briefing. With the same precision, style and perfection that she clearly got dressed wit
h, she’d take Dave through his daily schedule of meeting, the deadlines he needed to be aware of, bios of any people he might be meeting and an update on where he was up to on his targets.

  “You’ve got Steve Hughes at 10am, and you’ve met him before. You’ve got £100,000 in your target for him, and we’ve done nothing to date.”

  “Yeah, no worries. What else?”

  “You are due to meet Peter McKay in a few weeks for some business development opportunities, so I’ll pull you his bio off the system. Here is a bio for Mary Steele from Image Technologies. They are about to go through a large merger, and she is the likely new Chief Operating Officer, and you’ve got her for lunch at 12.30. The table is booked at your usual and under your name.”

  “Perfect. Looks like I am good to go!”

  “Oh, and it’s your father’s birthday next week. I’ve put a card in your office that I need you to fill in. His birthday meal clashes with your US conference call. Should I cancel it?”

  “Cancel it…hmmmm. Do you think he would be offended?”

  “I meant the conference call…”

  “Oh yes, that. Erm, yes, I mean no. I’ll join the call from the dinner don’t worry. I’m a man, I can multi task!”

  “No comment. As for all your performance statistics, you are tracking about 21% ahead of targets to date.”

  “Done and done. Can you order some CEC Cufflinks off the corporate website and charge them to the department account? You should treat yourself to an early finish today.”

  Laura hadn’t even managed to pull together a list of things she’d do with her early finish, when defeat was snatched from the jaws of victory.

  “And I’m serious about the early finish. Once this afternoon’s team meeting has finished and you’ve sent me through the notes, you should head off for an early mark.” The fact was that by the time all that was done, it would be well past home time.

  Dave was particularly happy with how his inter-personal skills had developed, since a surprisingly low score in a recent 360degree appraisal, and he was proud that he was treating and rewarding Laura for her hard word, giving himself a little invisible pat on the back for a job well done, and situation well handled.

  Dave knew a little of Laura’s personal situation, only from what he’d heard from others. He didn’t like to blur the boundaries of professionalism, and really wasn’t comfortable talking about touchy feely stuff with his colleagues. Work was for work. Lush had gone through a recent separation from her childhood sweetheart who she’d married straight out of college. What impressed Dave was the fact that these personal issues didn’t affect her work, even if people did claim that she was sensitive and brittle. Dave treated her the same way regardless, and he believed that she appreciated that.

  In the wine bar the drink was far superior to the conversation, which was one way. As the fizzy flowed, the veil of professionalism dropped, and before you could say “hang on, but she is your PA”, they were in a cab back to Dave’s. There had been no time to think about strategy or tactics, let alone repercussions and impact. Dave was high on the success of a deal that would see him get his title and achieve his short term goal, and for Laura, the months of loneliness after her separation could be mended in her drunken mind, by spending the night with someone who attracts so much success.

  Having dealt with his credit card bills and associated admin for a few years now, Laura had an expectation of the palaciousness of the bachelor pad, but even she was in awe of its neatness, the magnitude of its internal library and the mind boggling array of flashing lights coming from the futuristic selection of boy’s toys. Dave pointed towards the bedroom.

  “Why don’t you go and make yourself comfortable” he suggested, with a gentleness that Laura hadn’t seen before. She respected him for everything that he’d achieved and admired his drive and determination, but she was fascinated to see that someone so focused could relax and show some humanistic feelings.

  “Or am I just drunk and on the rebound?” she thought as she stumbled towards the bedroom and removed everything but her underwear and relaxed on the faux silk sheets. She avoided being impressed, as she knew that he’d got them in the sale from an online store. She didn’t move too much, for fear of creating static.

  In the bathroom, Dave was flossing and checking his crown jewels to make sure everything was in order. In the back of his mind, a key phrase was whirling around. It was something that he’d read in one of his business self help books.

  “The best assets are used regular, maintained to perfection and serviced as if imperative to the company’s success.”

  Looking down, he wasn’t massively impressed with his maintenance schedule and the servicing had been infrequent at best, but he rationalised this as being OK. This wasn’t exactly a blue chip client, so he considered this as just getting his eye in. He also knew that most businesses opted for a soft launch on new businesses before opening for real. Dave was hoping that tonight he could manage a hard launch.

  On his way to the bedroom, Dave knew that the selection of music was essential for the mood and his chances of conversion. Strolling confidently to the voice activated system, he made his selection.

  “On. (pause) Main bedroom…(pause)…chilled soul classics...play”

  Despite his early disaster with music, Dave had amassed a collection that would be the envy of most, and prided himself on picking the right music to set the mood and vibe, just as a sommelier would pick a wine to match the food.

  But as he walked off from the state of the art stereo system with a smug grin on his face, lightening struck again, and music once again became his downfall, but this time it was his technology that let him down.

  Taking a last glance in the mirror before he went to conquer his prey, he chuckled to himself and celebrated his victory.

  “Me and Mrs Jones...in the bedroom?” Dave was muttering to himself in amazement that he’d managed to get such an attractive lady into his bedroom, and impressed that she’d fallen for him with a jumble of work related stories.

  By the time he entered the bedroom with a healthy stride and one hand on his belt buckle, Laura was putting her skirt back on, showing signs of tears and giving him a death stare that wouldn’t have been out of place in a divorce court. As Dave stood still, she brushed passed him angrily and ploughed towards to the door.

  “I’ll call my own cab, don’t worry.”

  Dave was still motionless, stunned and struggling to understand what he’d done wrong. Tonight had looked pretty much as good a dead cert as you could get.

  “Maybe she was turned off by the black satin sheets?” he thought to himself, instantly dismissing that. They had been purchased a few months previous and were used sparingly for if Dave ever had anyone over. To an inexperienced bachelor, faux black silk sheets, styled in alternate black stripes like a fresh Wembley turf on FA Cup final day, Dave knew that these sheets had the potential to convert a maybe to a definite, but had they converted a definite to a maybe. Possibly?

  It was significantly more likely that she’d felt out of her depth. “Probably thought I was too good for her.”

  As he sat on the edge of the soft sheets, a tad bemused, he leaned down to remove his shoes. It was in this moment, as Dave lifted his weary and confused head, kicking off his shoes, that it hit him again. The screen on the music display gave him the answer to his conundrum. Billy Paul and “Me and Mrs Jones”, had just had a similar affect on Mrs Jones, as The Divynals had had on Veronica Cartwright. Dave shook his head in defeat, and reclined on the bed, with a wry smile. Soon he’d be a partner, and with the status, the office, the business cards and the pay rise, would come the ladies. Like the bands made their way to Woodstock in their droves, the aspiring women of the world would flock to Dave once he reached his pinnacle. A man of his calibre should not have to do any chasing. He just had to make sure that music didn’t get in the way again.

  ***

  Chapter Moving Goal Posts

  *
**

  “Of course I want this and I’ve aligned all my personal strategies to dove tail with the department strategy, whilst incorporating a few stretch targets that focus on my core competencies and provide true value add.”

  In line with his planning around the Rule of 3, Dave had set himself and agreed three targets with his boss, Big Nick. Nick was the stalwart of CEC services, and had been with them from his formative years. Nick had happily climbed the echelons of society as a younger man, using his father’s impeccable wealth to enjoy an education at some of England’s finest establishments. Whilst he hadn’t been overly successful in the academic stakes, Nick had maintained some extremely useful relationships from his time at Oxford and Cambridge. It was these contacts which enabled Nick to survive in the business world and riled Dave who was cut from a very different cloth. Dave secretly believed that Nick had been a snake in a former life.

  Suffering with SMS (Small Man Syndrome), Big Nick had notable issues with anyone above 5ft, so was most at ease either when picking up his youngest child from nursery or at the midgets circus. He also had issues walking past food without breaking into a sweat, but that never affected their working relationship. But to Dave, Big Nick represented a whole spectrum of issues and opportunities, which needed to be carefully navigated.

  On his good days, Nick was a definite ally of Dave’s and spoke very highly of his success, achievements and constant client praise. Almost an advocate, if advocates could slide and slither around the office. On his bad days though, Nick was a definite barrier to Dave’s success, so he tried where possible to keep him in the loop with as much as possible, whilst keeping him at a distance as much as possible; a decision and mission statement that took some severe management and delicate handling.

  Nick had taken Dave under his wing when he first moved down to the London office of CEC 3 years earlier, after a brief stint at CEC Manchester. Their working together had brought mutual benefit as Nick shared his wisdom, techniques and years of consulting experience, and Dave’s commitment to success had resulted in Nick having a dedicated and motivated protégé. In recent years however, Dave had stepped from Nick’s coat tails and started writing his own headlines. Nick was from a different school of thought and wasn’t a massive fan of all Dave’s tactics. He saw him as brash and controversial in his approach, but whilst it brought in the money, Nick was willing to turn a blind eye.