“Yeah, but all that really happened,” I said.
“Uh-uh. And you know where the idiot calls Watkins’s office from? Right from the links. Number came up on the secretary’s caller ID.” He shook his head, disgusted. “I just can’t defend that. Of course he denies it, but…Well, anyway, I’m inclined to give Allard another chance. He’s a true meat-eater. But I got something for you.”
“Tell me.”
“Who’s that guy from NEC that everyone likes?”
“You mean Jim Letasky? The guy who owns the SignNetwork account?”
“Yeah, him. I want to land SignNetwork. Sounds like the only way is to get Letasky on our team. Think you’re high-test enough to recruit him? Steal him away?”
“From NEC? He lives in Chicago, got a wife and kids, plus he probably already makes good money.”
“Sounds like you’re giving up before you even start,” Gordy said. “I thought you wanted Crawford’s job.”
“No, it’s just-that won’t be easy. But I’ll try.”
“Try? How about, ‘Done, Gordy’?”
“Done, Gordy,” I said.
I wasted no time trying to reach James Letasky. I found his office phone number on the NEC website, but I wanted to call him at home-the more discreet approach, I figured. Letasky’s home number was unlisted, unfortunately. So I waited until Gordy had gone out for a meeting, and I stopped by his secretary’s cubicle. She kept his massive database of names and contacts, and I thought she might know how to get hold of Letasky’s home phone.
“Jim Letasky?” Melanie said. “Sure. Easy.”
“You sound like you know the guy.”
She shook her head. She jutted out her lower lip as she tapped at her keyboard, lightning fast. “Here you go.”
“How’d you do that?”
“Magic.”
“You have all the NEC salesmen’s home phone numbers?”
“Naw. Kent’s been trying to recruit Letasky for years. I’m always sending his wife flowers.” She looked innocent. She had no idea that her boss was pretending he barely knew who Letasky was. “But Letasky’s unmovable. You want the name of her favorite florist? I have it here, too.”
“No thanks, Mel,” I said. “I’m not going to be sending flowers.”
16
After work, I drove to Willkie Auto Body to pick up my Acura. On the way, I listened some more to Old Blood and Guts. He was growling something about how “The only way to survive an ambush is to return fire immediately and run right through the enemy shooters, forcing your enemy to take cover.”
I left the Geo Metro at the body shop, to be picked up by Enterprise Rent-A-Car. Luckily I checked the trunk, where I’d almost left the bag of corporate self-help books.
There’s one upside to getting into a car accident: When you get your car back from the shop it looks brand-new. The Acura looked like I’d just driven it off the lot. When I popped the General into the CD player, he sounded even more commanding on my Acura’s surround-sound system.
Then I called Kurt Semko on the cell phone and told him I was maybe five miles from his house-he’d told me he rented a house in Holliston-and I had a present for him. He said, sure, come on, stop by.
I found it easily. He lived in a suburban development, in a small raised ranch, red brick, white clapboard, black shutters, like you’d see in every single suburb in America. It was very small, and it was well cared for, recently painted. What was I expecting, an old Quonset hut, maybe?
I parked in the driveway, which was jet-black and obviously recently sealed. I took the stack of books from the trunk and rang Kurt’s doorbell. I’d finished reading them, and besides, I thought Kurt needed them more than me.
He came to the door in a white T-shirt.
“Welcome to the Fortress of Solitude.” He opened the screen door for me. “I’m upgrading the electrical service.”
“You’re doing it yourself?”
He nodded. “It’s a rental, but I got tired of the circuit breakers tripping all the time. Hundred amps just doesn’t cut it. Plus the wiring’s old. So I’m putting in a four-hundred-amp service panel. Figured I’d get rid of the old aluminum branch circuit wiring while I’m at it.”
He noticed the stack of books in my arms. “Those for me?”
“Well, yeah,” I said.
He scanned the stack. “Dog Eat Dog: Surviving the Business World,” he read. “The Take No Prisoners Guide to the Corporation. What’s all this?”
“Some books I thought you might find useful,” I said, setting them down on the hall table. “Now that you’re working in the corporate world.”
“Team Secrets of the Navy SEALs: The Elite Military Force’s Leadership Principles for Business,” he said. He seemed amused. “Corporate Warrior. This is all military, chief. I don’t need to read about it. Seen enough.”
I felt like an idiot. Here was a guy who knew all this stuff from real-world experience, and I was giving him a bunch of books for corporate armchair warriors. Plus, what if he was one of those guys who never read books? “Yeah, but, see, they’re all about how to apply what you already know to a world you don’t.”
He nodded and said, “I see. Got it.”
“Check ’em out,” I said. “See what you think.”
“I will, chief. I will. I’m all about self-improvement.”
“Cool. Hey, so, listen. I need a favor.”
“Name it. Come on in. I’ll get you a drink. Show you some of my war trophies.”
His house was just as neat inside as it was outside. Clean and orderly and plain. Almost a temporary look to it. His refrigerator had nothing in it except bottles of Poland Spring water, Gatorade, and protein shakes. I wouldn’t be getting a Budweiser.
“Gatorade?”
“Water’s fine,” I said.
He tossed me a little bottle of water, took one for himself, and we went to his bare living room-a couch, a recliner, an old TV-and sat down.
I told him a little about the race for the divisional vice president job, how Gleason had blown off an important presentation at Bank of America and Trevor had lost the Pavilion deal. But Trevor was doing a demo at Fidelity on Monday, I said. That would seal the deal. He’d be back in Gordy’s good graces.
Then I told him about how Gordy wanted me to recruit Jim Letasky from NEC. “It’s sort of like ‘Bring me the broomstick of the Wicked Witch of the West,’” I said.
“How so?”
“An impossible assignment. He’s setting me up to fail. So he can give the promotion to Trevor.”
“Why’re you so sure you’re gonna fail?”
“Because I found out from Gordy’s secretary that Gordy’s tried a bunch of times before, and the guy lives in Chicago with his wife and kids, and he has no reason to move to Boston and start a new job with Entronics.”
“You senior enough to recruit the guy?”
“Technically, I guess. I’m a district manager. But I’ve met the guy, and we like each other.”
“Know him well?”
“No, that’s the thing. Not well at all. I’ve done the usual research, made a bunch of calls, but I haven’t come up with anything I can really sink my teeth into. You don’t happen to know anyone in NEC corporate security, do you?”
“Sorry.” He smiled. “Why, you want a backgrounder on him?”
“Is that even something you can do?”
“All you gotta know is where to look.”
“Think you could find out what his exact compensation package is at NEC?”
“Betcha I can do a lot more than that.”
“That would be awesome.”
“Give me a couple days. I’ll see what I can throw together. Actionable intelligence, we used to call it.”
“Thanks, man.”