Chapter 44: Atlanta

I took the early morning flight to Atlanta that Tara worked. We’d gone to the airport separately, since she had duties to attend well before the passenger boarding started. She was able to flip me into a first-class seat, and she doted on me during the short flight. We were able to kiss goodbye. She’d been an integral and sexual part of my weekend.

An hour after landing, Phil Rothman greeted me and invited me into his stark office. I liked Phil immediately, and, of course, I looked for signs of a tremor or other symptom of ALS, but there were none.

“I can still control them,” he said. “I know you looked. They’re there. I feel them from inside – a tic, a spasm, or I reach for something and my hand shakes in an abnormal way. I’m on meds that help a little. The genetic tests don’t lie, and I’ve had dozens of them, and they all agree. So do the different specialists. Enough about me, let’s talk about you and this business.”

Phil was in his early to mid-forties, had short dark hair, and was a tall almost gangly man. He actually looked in good shape. He also had an intensity about him. He was able to instantly zoom his focus in on you and hold it there.

I said, “As I told you on the phone, I had several talks with Kim Stanley.”

“A good friend,” Phil said as we stood in his office. “She told me you were one of her lovers, along with your father.” He was laughing.

I shrugged. “I do love her. She’s moved in, at least partially, with my dad. We do hook-up occasionally.”

“You got a look at our offices walking through to my office, but not the Command Center. Come and let me show you the hub of what we do, then we can talk.”

A short distance from Phil’s office, he opened a door into a huge room with high ceilings. In some ways, it looked like a NASA control room. One part had several large electronic maps of the world, crisscrossed with lines of different colors and widths. Numbers all over the screen updated every few seconds. In a few places there were blinking yellow signals to focus somebody’s attention on the area. I guessed that they might also be red lights for real disasters.

Phil said, “That’s the Internet backbone on the left, and our clients’ backbone on the right. It’s real time. If a link goes down, we know it, and can instantly tell how it’ll affect our network customers. Rerouting is done automatically, so no problem most of the time. We can also see the capacity of those links and the traffic volume.”

In another part of the room was a larger map that was less geographic and more symbolic. Phil explained, “This is also a customer-centric map. The colors and numbers on the various links tell us who’s who, and how their network traffic is fairing.”

One link suddenly started to blink yellow and then went to red. A chime went off in the room. Two of the staff at terminals in front of the display were talking and pointing. Various online activities were done by one of the men, and suddenly the blinking red link, went to solid green.

Phil said, “I guess they lost one of their major connection hubs for that business. I’d guess a router failure of some kind. They by-passed it. One of the men is calling the contact in the company as they also run diagnostics. They’ll have it sorted out in a few minutes. In the meantime, no data lost and full communications restored.

“You specialize in security. If that event was caused by a security breach, virus, or some other malicious technology attack, we’ll know that and start to cope with it. The staff involved with that side of things are down the hall in their offices.”

We went back to Phil’s office. In the process, I got introduced to two men, a woman, and then Phil’s admin assistant, a slender woman named Jean Muir. I made note of Jean because she had eyes that seemed to sparkle with mischief. The rest of her was pretty easy on the eyes, too, including her four-inch black patent leather heels she was wearing.

Phil commented after we were well into his office. “Jean is gem, but it has taken all my resolve not to come on to her. She’s a fabulous AA.”

“How long have you had her in that role?”

“Five years. She knows the business as well as I do.” Jean must have worked someplace else, because I guessed her age to be around thirty.

“Then as I accept this post, I want her right here in the executive suite. As you fade away, she’s the one that’ll really be running the company and not me.” I chuckled, but there was more truth to that than I cared to think about.

Phil took me to lunch at a nearby eatery. He ran through the men and women that were direct reports to him – basically half of the other fifty people in the company. I knew enough about span of control to know that situation was going to change. A span of one-to-twenty-five would drive me crazy. I could see four to six, but no more.

The other thing I worried about was the compensation plan, or rather the lack of one. Everyone in the company got some kind of bonus based on company performance. That was good. The rest in terms of promotions and raises seemed based on Phil’s capricious thoughts twice a year.

I was to be cast as having accepted the job as the Chief Operating Officer or COO of the growing company. I graciously accepted his offer of a $50,000 signing bonus, and an annual base of $250,000. I’d also be eligible for up to half my salary as a bonus based on company performance, prorated from that day – my start date. I figured that I’d adjust that up or down later when I was more in charge. I was even thinking of having an ‘outside’ compensation committee. I wondered whether Kim had told Phil that I’d turned down her signing bonus.

In the afternoon, as expected, I met two of Phil’s right-hand staff. Phil made no secret that I was a personal friend of Kim Stanley, and that that fact could only bode well for Cyber Solutions in terms of our growth and long-term profitability. His excuse to hire me as COO seemed to pass muster with the two men.

Andrea Smart was the head of Network Solutions and had held that post for two years. She had coke bottle glasses and wore jeans and hiking boots. She achieved her goal of being one of the boys.

Ron Carter was the head of what was called Network Compatibility. He had trouble describing to me the scope of his work vis-à-vis the others in the company. I suspected he was jack-of-all-trades, and a genuine problem solver. He also had graduated from college early and been a classic nerd.

I talked to Ron and Andrea the rest of the afternoon in a conference room just outside Phil’s office. Jean brought us colas and made sure we were all right.

Phil came into the conference room just after five o’clock and suggested that we wrap up for the day. I was to stay over at a motel near the office. Phil handed me a paper that told me that Bill Howard would meet me in the hotel lobby the next morning for breakfast at eight a.m. Then I’d meet with some of the others in the company over the next two days. This was what he’d outlined to me on the phone, so it sounded right.

We broke up for the day. I headed out to my rental car and drove to the motel that they’d arranged for me – an upscale La Quinta inn. They’d gotten me what the hotel called a housekeeping suite – basically a small living room with a TV and sofa, and a bedroom with ensuite bath.

I called home and checked in with Crystal and Carol, and then Elynn, Cory, and Heather. I also sent an ‘I love you’ text to Tara who was out in the Seattle area by then.

I just gotten off the phone when there was a knock on my door. I wasn’t expecting anybody, so I opened the door full of curiosity.

Jean Muir stood in front of me with a smile and sexy pose that jaunted one hip back towards the elevator.

“Jean, hello.”

“You, kind sir, are coming with me to dinner. No arguments. The places near here are fast food. I, on the other hand, have real food hand-crafted for your palate.” She laughed at her silliness and then sashayed past me into the room. “Come on, no jacket required. Get your room key and let’s go. I’ll drive. It’s not that far. I’ll bring you back after dinner.”

I was surprised, almost shocked at Jean’s behavior. I got my iPhone, Wallet, and room key, and followed her. I’ll have you back here for tomorrow, so don’t worry.

Jean took me to an apartment complex about two miles from the motel I’d been at. Even in rush hour and hitting the lights wrong, the drive only took ten minutes.

As we drove, I learned about Jean: born in D.C., Army brat, thirty-one, and loved computers and networking but didn’t have the education or experience to be a techy. So, she got an admin job for a company where she might learn things and get to help. She told me she was good on all counts.

Jean’s apartment was just what I expected for a single woman her age, maybe even a little nicer: two bedrooms, two baths, living room, dining and kitchen area, and reserved parking near her door. The whole complex was secure with all sorts of camera and a patrolling campus cop.

The aroma hit me as I walked in the door. “Wow! What’s that?”

Jean said, “If it worked correctly, that is our dinner. Go sit down, while I check on things.” Jean had apparently raced home at lunch and set up a slow-cooker with a roast with vegetables.

My surprise came when she brought me a glass of white wine. “I’m guessing that you’re a white wine drinker.”

“Yes, but on what basis?”

“You matured as a nerd. All nerds drink white wine.” She laughed and then sipped her own drink.

We ate almost immediately, which was fine with me. I was hungry, plus the aromas had made any priorities I had move food to the top of the list. I was starting to get the feeling that Jean had another list.

Over dinner, I learned that Jean had done all the research on me. They’d gotten a recommendation and some information from Kim Stanley, but not much more. The rest was in their court. I felt good about that. My being solicited was based on their own work on not on Kim’s insistence.