Chapter 64: It All Comes To A Head

July 31, 1996, Chicago, Illinois

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” I asked.

“Where else could we meet and talk privately? And openly? Without any witnesses?”

“Even so, I’m not comfortable doing that because of our history AND because of the current situation. Would you object to Deborah being there? Eve would be OK as well, but I’d much rather have Deborah.”

“I suppose.”

“She knows our history, Julia. I told her everything because she needed to know.”

“Excuse me?!” Julia objected.

“She’s my attorney, even though she works for NIKA. The fact that you and I had a relationship before you started dating Dave is material. Jamie knows for the same reason. Can you imagine if that had somehow come out in court filings when we had the trouble with Kaitlin or Mikela? We’d have lost, big time, because they’d point to a pattern. The actual facts wouldn’t mean a damned thing.”

“Who else knows?”

“My wives, of course.”

“You bastard!” Julia exclaimed angrily.

And that response made it clear I couldn’t tell her that Elyse and Bethany knew as well. She was already upset enough as it was.

I shrugged, “Maybe so. But Dave knows and has known since before he married you.”

“Oh, for the love of ... how?!”

“He asked me directly, Julia. Did you expect me to lie to him? And being evasive was a non-starter for obvious reasons. I take it from your response that you didn’t know until just this moment that he knew.”

“This is way more messed up than I imagined. Have Deborah there, I guess.”

“OK. We’ll meet you at the NIKA apartment for lunch. I’ll order myself and pick it up on the way so nobody knows.”

I left Julia’s office and went upstairs to let Deborah know we had a lunch meeting outside the office and asked her to review some personnel files as well as my notes on certain events.

Three hours later, Julia, Deborah, and I were sitting at the table in the NIKA loft apartment, eating Chinese food.

“It’s your dime, Julia,” I said.

“Dave told me he’s thinking about quitting.”

I nodded, “OK.”

“OK?! OK?! What the heck has gotten into you, Steve? How can you just sit there, eating your sweet-and-sour soup and say ‘OK’ to that?”

“It’s not unexpected,” I replied. “And what would you like me to do? Throw a hissy fit? Get down on my knees and beg him to stay at the cost of giving up what I believe to be the «kami» of NIKA Consulting? And this isn’t new, if you think about it. You know where it started, or at least where it became public.”

“Maddie.”

“Yes. Deborah, did you read her file as I asked?”

“I honestly can’t believe a spat between you and Dave over ‘participation’ trophies has led to this,” she said, shaking her head.

“And yet, my point was proved decisively,” I replied. “But it’s become way more than that. Dave’s worldview clashes directly with mine, and as I said, with the «kami» of NIKA. He’s not a good cultural fit at this point. That said, he does his job exceedingly well in terms of delivering quality software on schedule. ‘Manage your team’ does not imply, and it never has, that you can freely go against the culture of the company and not be called to account.”

“All this because of Cindi’s drinking problem?” Julia asked.

“You know it’s not that simple, Julia. Tell me, now, without Dave in the room - do you agree with Brenda and Tasha or Dave?”

Julia didn’t hesitate, which didn’t surprise me, “Brenda and Tasha.”

“I’m going to be blunt here,” I said. “Don’t EVER equivocate in that way again. If you and Dave have issues, they have to stay at home, not in the office. I never regretted hiring you two in the positions you’re in, but this entire situation has made me question myself.”

“I’m not sure I even recognize you at this point,” Julia said. “This isn’t the Steve I knew.”

“We all change,” I said. “And you’d know if you and Dave hadn’t decided to cut off nearly all our close contacts. Coming to parties and Guys’ Night isn’t the same. It’s a philosophical problem that I should have addressed years ago. Dave believes you can’t be close friends with people you work closely with; I believe you can’t work closely with someone without being friends. It’s ALL about relationships. Every bit of it.

“When I talked to Cindi about her problems, I told her that all of this, and by ‘this’ I meant NIKA, was bullshit, and that the only thing which matters in the long run is what kind of person you are, and that’s shown by how you treat others. And I said I’d close NIKA down before I stopped caring about people who are important to me. Those relationships are who we are, Julia. NIKA is absolutely NOTHING without its people.

“Oh, sure, we have lots of intellectual property and services to sell, but so what? So do plenty of other firms! We’re different because of our people! It’s our reason for being! If it weren’t, I’d slash costs to the bone, milk the software for everything I could, and do my best to sell the company to some investor group and retire with a pile of cash. That is NOT what I want to do. And, as I said, not doing that means all those relationships I spoke of in the meeting HAVE to be the way they are.

“The bottom line here, and I’m not pulling any punches, is that Dave is flat out wrong, at least with regard to NIKA. There are plenty of companies out there which follow his attitude. I’m not going to be one of them. That’s when I shut it down and go find something else to do because I would HATE coming to work every day. NIKA is special, and I’ll be damned if I’m going to let the Maddies of this world wreck it. I’ll be doubly-damned if I let someone like Dave wreck it.”

“Jesus, Steve,” Julia said, shaking her head. “He was your best friend!”

“Was. And stopped being my best friend because HE wanted to, not because I wanted to! Look, I get the differences in opinion on child-rearing. I see the same thing from Pete and Melanie, but Pete is still a close friend. Yes, he’s got that whole ‘lone lawman’ bullshit swagger, but I think the government issues that when they give you a Marshal’s star, so I cut him some slack. Karl and Ginny are similar, but Karl is still a close friend. And so was Nick, God rest his soul. Dave is the ONE person who decided he couldn’t be a close friend.

“I realize now, with 20/20 hindsight, I should have been more forceful in expressing my opinion to him when he first said he wanted to draw back because he felt we were too close to be co-workers. Perhaps if I’d said something then, or made the same points I’ve made in the past few weeks, things might have been different; but then again, they might not have. In the end, though, I think events and circumstances bear me out, not him. There are people at NIKA who will take a bullet for me, willingly, but who wouldn’t lift a finger to help Dave. That should tell you everything you need to know right there.”

“It’s different being a boss,” Julia protested.

“Is it?” I asked with an arched eyebrow. “We were way smaller six years ago when you finally were able to pull the ripcord and bail out of the CEO chair, but how did YOU operate?”

“But we WERE smaller and that meant the relationships were far more important. Now we have five main offices and people in New York, Boston, San Francisco, and Los Angeles. It’s different.”

“I know. And that’s what I’m trying to sort out. But the one thing I won’t accept is that NIKA becomes just another corporation! Do you know how serious I am about that? I’m actually thinking of divesting the consulting practice!”

“What?!” Julia gasped.

“You heard me. If NIKA is unwieldy or is at risk of losing its culture, I’m going to find the cause of the disease and cut it out. Maybe it’s just a matter of forming a holding company and making Charlie CEO of whatever we’d call the spun-off consulting practice. We already use NIKA Legal Systems and NIKA Medical Systems for marketing purposes, so there are plenty of options. But my point is, NIKA is a philosophy, not a corporation. And if we can’t stay true to the philosophy in our current form, then I’ll find a way to change things so we can.”

“Why haven’t I heard any of this?” she asked.

“Because you don’t spend any time with me, except in the Monday morning operations meeting or other formal meetings; that’s why. And neither does Dave. It’s by your choice, Julia. Everyone else does. You two don’t. Dave’s philosophy no longer matches NIKA’s, and is sufficiently divergent that, to be frank, he doesn’t fit in. I don’t know what you think because we don’t talk the way we used to, and that’s because Dave objected.”

Julia shook her head slowly, “This is going to get ugly.”

“Possibly, but I think all of us are smart enough to put our heads together and find a solution.”

“That means you have an idea,” Julia said with a slight smile.

“I do.”

“Wait a sec!” Deborah protested. “How the heck did you discern that, Julia?”

“I know the man,” she said, with a bigger smile. “And have for fourteen years or so. When he rants the way he just did, but then says we can fix it, it means he needed to blow off steam before he proposed the solution. And usually, the solution is the right one.”

Deborah shook her head, “This is my first-ever adult job, and I swear, I will NEVER encounter anything like this in the future! I’m sure of it!”

“Steve is unique,” Julia said. “He positively hates being CEO, but he’s very good at it. But he has a dirty little secret. He DOESN’T actually hate it; he loves it, especially when he’s up against someone like Dante.”

“Unreal. So, Boss, what’s your solution?”

“I think Dave should get his Master’s and PhD, and teach at IIT until he’s ready, if he is, to come back to NIKA. He can take on a lecturer’s role while he works on the Master’s. With his experience, it’s a slam dunk. And NIKA could pay for the education.”

“Wait a sec!” Deborah protested. “You just spent ten minutes ranting about him! And THAT is the solution you propose? One that lets him come back?”

Julia laughed, “You have a lot to learn about Steve, Deborah. Did you read the files on Jefferson Greene and Mikela Kovaç? And do you know about Callie Shepherd?”

“The first two, yes. The third one, no.”

“I think that might only be in Steve’s private notes.”

“It is,” I said. “I’ll make them available to you this afternoon.”

“Steve, did you already talk to someone about this?” Julia asked, her eyebrow arched.

“Me? Would I possibly have spoken to Doctor Bauer and Doctor Driesson about this?”

“Yes, you would have!”

“If Dave calls Doctor Bauer, he’ll have a lecturer’s position in the Fall. He’ll be automatically accepted into the Master’s program at that point. That gives him faculty rates for tuition, which we will cover, as I said. In addition, he’ll be eligible for his full bonus for this year, even though he won’t complete it.”

“But why?” Deborah asked.

“Because,” I replied, “among other things, Dave is burned out. Do you agree, Julia?”

She nodded, “I suspected that was the case when he began obsessing about the newbies and about them burning out. Projection, I think Doctor Bethany would call it.”

I nodded, “Possibly, yes, but also a way to try to make the point without making it personal. Look, we all know Cindi is a real bitch when it comes to setting, and sticking to, aggressive deadlines. But that’s her job. I pay her a queen’s ransom to do that! The rest of us push back to keep the pot simmering, but not boiling over. If there’s fault here, it lies with me for not noticing that the pot had not only boiled over, but had boiled dry.”

“Me, too,” Julia said. “But I was afraid to say anything to you. I guess I was worried about how you would react, and I think the way you reacted about Brenda’s team only reinforced that.”

“Noted,” I said. “I’ll work on that, but honestly, sometimes we do have to push that hard. This is one of those cases. But you know what? Dave hasn’t taken advantage of the benefits we added, including taking a sabbatical. Neither have you, for that matter. And before you protest, I want to see a request from you for sometime next year for at least two months off to do SOMETHING. Go work with the Orthodox Christian Mission Center, if you want; I’ll sign that approval form without reservation. If you burn out, we’re screwed even worse than we are with the Dave situation.”

“Were you going to tell him?” Julia asked.

I shook my head, “Not unless he came to me, or, as happened, you came to me. I had to wait to let the two of you figure out that there WAS a problem. I pressed you both to see it, you harder than Dave, but at that point, I had to wait. Now that we’ve talked, you’ll talk to him and the two of you decide what to do. And, when the time comes, if it comes, he’ll have his old job back. He’ll know if and when the time is right to ask.”

“So it’s that simple?” Deborah asked. “He just tells you he’s ready to come back and that’s it? BOOM! He’s back?”

Julia laughed softly, “This is your first introduction to Steve’s way of dealing with people in a crisis. He knows Dave well enough that Dave won’t ask to come back unless he can fulfill the role Steve wants him to fill. To put it in a general way, Steve sets the expectation, and counts on the person not to want to disappoint him. It works with his kids, too.”

“Who takes his spot if he moves on, Julia?” I asked.

“I KNEW you were going to ask that,” she replied, shaking her head. “Will you give me a few days to think about it?”

“And discuss it with Dave?” I grinned.

“Of course.”

“I feel like I’m missing something,” Deborah said. “What’s going to change just by Dave going into academia?”

“It’s not about where Dave goes,” I said. “The entire point of this exercise boils down to one thing, and one thing only. Julia?”

“Steve and Dave can be friends again,” she said happily.

August 1, 1996, Jefferson County, Illinois

I stepped out of the hired Town Car and walked towards the entrance of Big Muddy River Correctional Center in downstate Jefferson County, Illinois. I’d considered driving, but when I calculated the trip at nearly five hours each way, I’d asked Samantha for a lift. She’d provided the Gulfstream, at no charge, because I was going to see her dad.

“I need two forms of ID, please,” the guard said as I came to the window.

I handed over my driver’s license and passport and waited while they were checked, then compared to the visitor’s list.

“Vehicle information?”

“It’s a hired car. Here’s the contract.”

I slid the folded papers through the slot in the window. It had been a pain to get them, as the company usually didn’t bother with contracts, just credit card reservations. Eventually, we’d come up with a plan, which I’d verified with Melanie, and I hoped it passed muster.

“Where’s the driver?” the guard asked.

“Sitting in the car in the parking lot.”

“One moment.”

He picked up a phone and called someone who I assumed was a supervisor, explained the situation, and appeared to receive a positive answer. He hung up and slid the contract back to me, but kept the ID. He next slid a document to me.

“Read this, sign it, and date it. The top part is rules. If you violate them, you’ll be asked to leave. The second part lists things which are considered criminal activity. If you violate any of those, you will immediately be arrested and charged. You need to initial each line in both sections.”

I accepted the form and quickly read through it, then read through it a second time more slowly. There was nothing that surprised me or concerned me, so I signed it, dated it, initialed each line, and slid it back. The guard compared my ‘signature’, which was really my initials, with BOTH pieces of ID, then slid them back to me.

“When the buzzer sounds, open the door, step through, and wait. Once the first door closes, a second buzzer will sound. Open the door in front of you, and step through. You’ll be met by a guard who will search you.”

I nodded and moved over to the door. The buzzer sounded, and I pulled open the VERY heavy metal door, stepped in, and allowed it to shut behind me. I heard loud clicks as the locks reengaged and waited for the buzzer to sound again, then stepped through the second door.

“Sir, please step to your right and wait,” a guard said.

I did as instructed and he came over to me with a small basket. I put my ID, my rings, my watch, and the Lucy nickel into it. He set it aside, then picked up a wand, which he swiped around me, getting the usual squeal from my belt buckle, but nothing else. He put the wand down, then frisked me by hand. Finding nothing, he returned the items which I’d put in the basket.

“I’m going to escort you to the visitor’s room. Sit on your side of the table. Do not make ANY physical contact with the prisoner. Do not whisper. Do not make any hand signals, gestures, or attempt any secret communication. Understood?”