Chapter 1

"The file you sent us today," Kyle said into his telephone handset, "has nineteen columns. The one you sent yesterday had seventeen."

You asked us to add two new columns, came the reply.

"No -- I asked if it was POSSIBLE to add two new columns. I didn't ask you to add them. Did you receive a change order from me?"

No...

" ... Or, a confirmation email?"

No ... Do you want us to remove them?

"It's Friday. We need the file in production on Monday. Which is riskier? Pulling them out or leaving them in?"

At this point, it would be riskier to pull them out.

"Then, leave them in. Jim -- no more file changes without a written change order. Understand?"

Understood, Kyle..

Kyle hung up the phone. He saw Jerry, his intern, heading toward the machine room with a burrito in his hand. "No food in the machine room," Kyle called to him.

Jerry set the burrito onto a paper plate on his desk. "Was that the bank?" he asked.

"Yes -- it's Friday for chrissake and they're changing the file layout. Now I gotta change the import filter to skip these two new columns." Kyle began typing on his keyboard.

Jerry stepped into the machine room and returned a moment later. "The F.E. wants to see you."

"Now what?" Kyle muttered. He scanned his badge for entry into the back room containing the servers and printers and headed for the new high-capacity printer. Kyle spoke to the field engineer servicing the machine. "You wanted to see me?"

"Look..." The F.E. pointed to a stack of paper.

"The printing is on the back," Kyle remarked.

"Yeah -- the reason the forms are jamming is too much curl." He held up a stack of blank statement forms. "See -- they cup downward."

"Are you saying the forms were printed on the wrong side of the paper?"

"That's what it looks like."

"Can you show me the specifications for curl?" Kyle asked.

The field engineer began flipping through a manual. "Here," he said and handed it to Kyle.

"Feed jams may be due to a number of causes ... excessive curl..." Kyle regarded the F.E. "This is no help. It doesn't say WHAT constitutes excessive curl."

"We know it when we see it," the F.E. replied.

Kyle returned to his desk, picked up his phone and punched in an extension. "Freddie -- it's Kyle. We have a problem with the paper for the new statements."

What kind of problem?

"You need to see it -- I can't do it justice over the phone."

I'll be right down.

Kyle hung up the phone. "We're never going to be able to print statements on Monday -- not at this rate," he remarked to his intern. "The bank keeps changing the file layout and now the statements are printed on the wrong side of the paper."

A slightly-built man in middle age approached Kyle's desk. He had a narrow face, close-set eyes; a long, thin nose and a pencil-thin moustache, which gave him a rat-like appearance. Accompanying him was a young woman in a black skirt and matching jacket, tall, black boots, black-rimmed eyeglasses and a white blouse with a scarf at her neck like a cravat. Her brunette hair was pulled back tightly and formed a severe-looking bun.

Kyle looked up. "Hi Freddie ... Lisa."

"What's the problem with the paper?" Lisa asked.

"Follow me..." Kyle led them into the machine room and confronted the field engineer. "Tell them what you told me."

The F.E. held up a stack of pages. "It jams unless we print them on the backs."

"We can't print statements on the backs of the forms," Lisa snapped.

"We can't print them on the front, either," Kyle replied. "Show her."

The F.E. flipped the input stack right-side up. He started the print job. A half-dozen pages fed and then the printer shut down with a feed jam alarm. "We can't get more than five or six pages through without it jamming."

Kyle regarded Lisa. "When you ordered the paper, did you bother to specify which way it should curl?"

"I've never heard of a spec for curl," she retorted.

"Did you tell your supplier what printer we're using?"

"Yes -- Hyperprint 2330," she replied. "They have a half-dozen customers using the same printer."

"Well -- you saw the problem, first-hand. Lisa -- either you screwed up ... or your supplier screwed up ... which means either way you screwed up." Kyle let out an exasperated sigh. "If you have a project that involves technology, PLEASE involve us early on so we can avoid problems like this. Okay?"

Lisa folded her arms. "Yes, Kyle," she replied petulantly.

"How fast can we get forms printed on the right side of the paper?" Kyle asked.

"Not by Monday."

"And, who's going to eat the cost of pulping twenty pallets of useless forms?"

"Kyle," Freddie interrupted, "come up with a couple of backup plans."

"I'm thinking about it," Kyle replied. He followed Freddie and Lisa out of the machine room.

Lisa began to head for the corridor when she abruptly turned around. "Kyle," she called to him, "you are not going to hang this on me. If you try -- you won't get away with it. Remember that -- you won't!" She stalked toward the corridor.

Jerry let out a low whistle. "I've never seen her that agitated," he remarked.

"Kirk wants these new statements in the mail on Monday. There's no way it's going to happen." Kyle sat at his desk. "Is it in bad taste to enjoy some schadenfreude?" he asked. "I have a new term for Lisa."

"What's that?" Jerry asked.

"You know what MILF stands for?"

"Of course I do," his intern replied.

"Lisa is a BILF."

"Yeah -- Bitch I'd like to..."

" ... Fire!" Kyle replied.

"Not something else?" Jerry asked. "She's hot. I'd hit that. Don't you think she's hot?"

Kyle chortled. "I wonder if she treats her men the way she treats her subordinates," he mused. "I can see it now... 'You're not done yet!'... 'Is that the best you can do?' I'll bet she can emasculate a guy at thirty paces with a single lash of her tongue."

"Of course," Jerry continued, "ALL the women Kirk hires are hotties -- and he makes them wear skirts. I couldn't believe the girls who work in this office. I still can't."

"Kirk has a roving eye. Do you know Julie -- head of customer reps?" Kyle asked.

"Is she that tall blonde who's built like a brick silo?"

"Yeah -- she used to be a model. One day she came in wearing a short skirt. She dropped a pen and bent over to pick it up. Kirk nearly fell out of his chair..." Kyle's phone rang and he picked it up. "Hello ... hi, Freddie."

Kyle -- what are our options?

"Well -- that printer has the ability to combine a static background with variable data. Maybe I can scan one of the forms and set it up electronically. We'll lose the four-color printing."

Kirk won't like the looks of that.

"If it's that or no statements..."

Mock something up that we can look at, Freddie replied. We're having a meeting at one to discuss our options. Blue room.

"One P.M., Blue room ... I'll get started on it."

Kyle hung up the phone. "What's the Blue room?" Jerry asked.

"That's the conference room where they installed the permanent rotating blade," Kyle replied. "And, the shit is about to hit it." He took a blank statement, scanned it and brought the image up on his screen. "Let's see ... it needs to be monochrome..." He adjusted the image. "Yep -- this will look like crap, all right..."

The printer engineer stepped out of the machine room. "Kyle," he said. "I wanna show you something."

Kyle headed back to the machine room to see the printer filling its output tray with statements printed on the front. "What the..."

"We've gone through a whole box without a jam," the F.E. announced.

"What changed?"

"This printer has a field bulletin for upgrading the pickup pad."

"I know," Kyle replied. "Someone was in the other day changing it."

"He put the new one in upside-down," the F.E. replied with a grin.

"Wonderful," Kyle remarked. He picked up a stack of printed forms and headed for his desk.

Kyle sat in a conference room, his gazed fixed on the blue carpet. At the other end of the table sat Lisa, clenching her jaw and avoiding eye contact. Into the room strode a tall, powerful-looking man in his mid sixties with silver hair. Kirk Gregory was a man with presence. With him were Freddie and a middle-aged woman in tow. "Hi, Kirk," Kyle said, " ... Freddie ... Cory..."

Kirk glowered at Kyle and at Lisa. "What's this about a problem with paper?" he asked.

"I've been in touch with our distributor," Lisa replied. "He's never heard of this kind of a problem..."

Kirk's gaze shifted to Kyle. "Well?"

"There is no problem with the paper," Kyle replied and placed the stack of printed statements on the table.

"I thought you said..." Freddie began.

"That's what the field engineer told me. It turned out the problem was a mis-applied field upgrade to the printer." He looked toward Lisa. "Lisa -- I want to apologize. I said some things without knowing the whole story and I'm sorry. And, if anything I said implied you were somehow negligent or responsible ... I regret it."

Lisa's face relaxed and a half-smile crossed her lips.

"So -- are we on track for Monday?" Kirk asked.

"We are on track," Kyle replied.

"Remember -- it'll be your balls on the anvil if we're not."

"We'll be ready, Kirk," Kyle said.

"Good..." Kirk pounded his fist on Kyle's shoulder. "Good work." He turned to Lisa. "Great job on the artwork for the new look, Lisa." Kirk and his entourage swept out of the conference room.

Kyle began to stand. "Kyle -- wait," Lisa said. He sat back in his chair. "I appreciate what you said. I know it's hard to admit you're wrong, especially in front of Kirk and Freddie. It was a classy thing you did, Kyle. My opinion of you went up a notch."

"It was the right thing to do," Kyle replied. "We all catch enough shit for mistakes we honestly make. It's not fair to catch it for one you didn't."

"I appreciate it anyway. What needs to be done, yet?"

"Right now it's a matter of fine-tuning the print layout to the forms."

"Can I help?" she asked.

"I don't think so, Lisa ... Well -- these are the forms you designed. I suppose you should have some input into the final layout."

Kyle pushed piles of paper to the side of a work table and set out a pair of paper plates, some plastic knives and forks and a couple cans of Coca Cola. He heard the buzzer and opened the door. Lisa stepped in carrying a flat pizza box.

"Normally food is prohibited in the machine room," he said. "I'm making an exception so we can get these layouts finalized and get outta here."

"I am so hungry," she replied. "I was so agitated before that meeting with Kirk I couldn't eat lunch. Carrying this up from the lobby is making my stomach growl."

Kyle flipped open the box and placed a slice of pizza onto a plate and handed it to Lisa. He took a slice for himself. "I pinched some plates, napkins, soda and flatware from the break room," Kyle said. "I'm hungry, too and it does smell good."

Lisa took a bite. "Mmm ... This is really going to hit the spot."

"Of course after a day like today," he remarked, "rather than a Coke I'd rather it be a tall, frosty one."

"Or, maybe a bottle of Chianti," she added.