The Consultant

THE CONSULTANT  

BENTLEY LITTLE  

Cemetery Dance Publications 

Baltimore, MD 

2015 

Copyright © 2015 by Bently Little

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the publisher, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review.

Cemetery Dance Publications

132-B Industry Lane, Unit #7

Forest Hill, MD 21050

http://www.cemeterydance.com

The characters and events in this book are fictitious.

Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

ISBN-13: 978-158767-543-0

Front Cover Artwork © 2015 by Elder Lemon Design

Digital Design by Dan Hocker

For the Konefsky family: Bob, David and especially Natalie, who knows all about the horrors of the modern workplace.
 

ONE  

It was his own fault. If Craig Horne hadn’t checked his email immediately after waking up, if he’d simply left his work at work, the way Angie was always nagging him to do, he wouldn’t have even known about the staff meeting. He would have showered, shaved and eaten a leisurely breakfast with his family, discovering only when he arrived at the office shortly after eight that he’d missed a meeting. Later in the morning, someone would have caught him up on what had been discussed.  

But he
had
checked his email, and the message that greeted him when he signed on was: “Senior Staff Meeting at 7:30.” So he hurriedly showered and dressed, downed a quick cup of coffee under Angie’s hostile, disapproving gaze, and sped out the door.  

Leaving early made a huge difference in the amount of traffic on the freeway, and with his commute clocking in at a half-hour rather than the usual forty-five minutes, Craig arrived at work with twenty minutes to spare. He probably
could
have wolfed down a quick breakfast before leaving home, he thought as he took the elevator up to the sixth floor, but he wouldn’t let Angie know that or he’d never hear the end of it.  

He got off the elevator, walking down the hallway to his office and saying good morning to Lupe, his secretary, who had obviously just arrived and was standing behind her desk, taking a croissant out of a bakery bag. She smiled back at him. “You’re in early.”  

“Staff meeting,” he said, and found himself wondering what was going to be discussed. It was unusual for Matthews to call a meeting on such short notice, and even more unusual for the CEO not to specify an agenda.  

Craig sat down behind his desk, turned on his computer and accessed the sales figures for their newest software. He’d been sent the numbers several days ago but had avoided looking at them, as he was pretty sure he knew how they were going to lay out. He was disappointed but not surprised to learn that he’d been right; the new business package, OfficeManager, was not merely underperforming; it was a bona fide flop.  

Was this what they were going to be discussing in the meeting? Sales figures? It was more than possible, and, just in case, he printed out a few graphs showing overall market trends that he could use should he need to play defense.  

The buzzer on his phone console sounded, the red light flashed, and he glanced over at the clock. It was almost time for the meeting. Gathering up his materials, he walked out and told Lupe to hold down the fort until he returned.  

He took the elevator down to the first floor and saw Phil Allen in the hallway on the way to the conference room. “You have any idea what this is about?” Craig asked.  

“Damage control,” Phil replied, shifting his briefcase from one hand to the other. Craig’s confusion must have registered on his face, because his friend suddenly stopped walking and said, “Oh my God. You don’t know.”  

“Know what?”  

Phil motioned him over to the side of the hallway, next to the wall. There was no one around, but he leaned in and kept his voice low. “A.I.’s called off the merger. It’s front page in the
Journal
today. They’re not even willing to make a bid. Word on the street is that our stock’s going to start dropping as soon as the bell rings. Anderson’s already taken a golden parachute and bailed. Don’t be surprised if some of the other names follow suit.”  

Craig’s heart was racing. “What happened?”  

“No one knows. Or no one’s talking. Their independent auditors gave us a clean bill of health just last week, but some sort of discrepancy must have shown up because A.I.’s out.”  

“You thinking layoffs?”  

“I don’t know what to think. You don’t have anything to worry about, though. Your department’s on the creative end. If heads are going to roll, it’s going to be in Finance. They’re the ones who pursued this strategy.”  

“Yeah, but OfficeManager tanked. I just looked at the numbers five minutes ago.”  

“And
Zombie Air Force
is still number one in games. Trust me, you’re safe. If anyone gets the blame for OfficeManager, it’s Sales. We always take the fall. Besides, I don’t think this has anything to do with individual products. There’s no merger. Anderson’s gone. The company’s in freefall.
That’s
what the meeting’s about.”  

Vice-presidents, department heads, division heads, managers and supervisors were on their way down the hall, and Craig and Phil cut short their conversation in order to get good seats in the theater-like conference room. Matthews was already standing at the front, by the podium, and the fact that the wall behind the CEO was bare, with neither charts nor PowerPoint screens in evidence, meant that this was definitely something unusual. Glancing over at Phil, Craig saw an expression of repressed worry that mirrored his own anxiety exactly. Matthews was meeting no one’s eyes, keeping his gaze focused on either the podium before him or the clock on the wall. Not a good sign.  

A stickler for punctuality, the CEO always started meetings precisely on time, and this morning was no exception. Some people had not yet arrived and several were still not seated when he announced, “Let’s begin.”  

For the next twenty minutes, they were subjected to a withering assessment of the company’s performance over the past year, culminating in the confirmation that, yes, as reported in
The Wall Street Journal
, Automated Interface was no longer interested in merging with CompWare. CFO Hugh Anderson and Senior Vice President Russell Cibriano, architects of the merger strategy, had fallen on their swords and voluntarily left the company, but that would cause as many problems as it was going to solve.  

“At this juncture, the most important thing we need to do is reinforce public and industry confidence in the company. To that end, we have decided to hire a management consulting firm in order to get our internal house in order. BFG Associates come highly recommended, and they have a phenomenal track record, with work in both the private and public sectors. They’ll be conducting a study of the entire company, top to bottom, and will have access to everything and everyone for as long as they require. Each of your departments and divisions will be given a briefing regarding the specifics as they relate to your work unit, but, basically, BFG has been tasked with studying the company, analyzing the data and making recommendations as to how we can consolidate staff, streamline practices and procedures, do everything we need to in order to stay viable in today’s competitive market.” 

Consolidate staff?
 

Craig looked at Phil as a murmur of worry passed through the conference room.  

“This is not to say that we’ll automatically implement their recommendations,” Matthews emphasized. “Their report is only a starting point. But we hope to use it as a blueprint for a reinvigorated CompWare, a roadmap for our continued future. Now, if there are any questions, I’ll be happy to answer as many as I can.”  

There were. And Matthews’s answers were as vague and generic as his speech had been. Craig left the meeting knowing only that consultants had been hired to study ways to cut costs and increase profits—most likely by laying people off. It was a depressing turn of events and not one he could have predicted upon waking this morning, but at least he’d gone to the meeting and Matthews had seen him. That might count for something when it came down to the wire. Van Do and Josh Halberstram hadn’t shown up at all, probably hadn’t checked their email before coming to work, and that was the type of thing the CEO might take into account when heads started to roll.  

“Interesting meeting?” Lupe asked when he returned.  

Craig decided to give her a heads up, though he knew Matthews expected everyone to keep a lid on what had been discussed until an official announcement was made. “The merger didn’t go through. Anderson and Cibriano are out, and it looks like there might be layoffs.”  

Lupe’s normally easygoing expression grew serious.  

“He didn’t tell us much beyond that, but a consultant’s been hired, and they’re going to be doing some sort of study before deciding what to do next.”  

She glanced around to make sure no one else was nearby. “What do you think…?”  

He shrugged. “Phil assures me we’re safe. I hope he’s right, but we’d both better be on our best behavior, just in case.”  

Lupe nodded. “Do you need me to do anything? I could—”  

“Save it,” he told her. “We’ll just continue on as is for now. We might have to come up with a strategy once the consultants get here, but we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.”  

“I don’t have that much seniority,” Lupe said worriedly.  

“As long as I’m here, you’re here,” Craig assured her.  

But that didn’t ease her concerns as much as he thought it would, and as he walked into his office, he wondered if there was something she knew that he didn’t.  

TWO  

“They’ve already made their decisions,” Angie said. “Who’s going to be laid off, what departments are going to be consolidated: they’ve already decided. The only reason they’re bringing in consultants is to justify what they’re going to do and provide themselves with cover.” She shook her head. “Is there a bigger scam on the planet than the consultant business?”  

She was making dinner, heating up bottled spaghetti sauce in one pot while pasta boiled in another, and Craig was sitting at the kitchen table, nursing a beer. “I’m not sure about that,” he said. “You didn’t hear Matthews talk. I honestly think they’re floundering. I think they’re looking for someone to give them answers.”  

“That’s even worse.”  

Dylan came in from the living room, perturbed. “Daddy! You said you were coming out! I’ve been waiting forever!” Craig smiled as his son walked up and grabbed his hand, trying to pull him out of the chair. “You need to read to me!”  

Giving Angie an amused look, Craig stood, leaving his beer on the table and following the boy out to the living room. On the couch, in the spot where he usually sat, Dylan had placed the
Goosebumps
book they were reading. Craig knew that his son was competing with a girl named Karen in his class for the most amount of hours read each week, so the two of them read the book aloud, alternating chapters, until Angie told them to wash their hands for dinner.  

They read some more after they finished eating, filled out the nightly reading log, then brushed their teeth together. Dylan put on his pajamas, then Angie read him a story and tucked him in bed.  

Later, after the dishes were done and Dylan was asleep, they discussed what they’d do if Craig lost his job. Determined that their son not grow up in daycare and that there always be a parent at home, Angie had quit her full-time nursing position at St. Jude’s and gotten a weekend job at an Urgent Care affiliated with the hospital before Dylan had even been born. So she was with him on weekdays, while Craig took care of him on weekends. Which meant that Craig was the primary breadwinner, and there was no way they could survive without his income.  

“I don’t think it’ll come to that,” he told her.  

“You don’t know.”  

She was right. In his mind, he went through their monthly expenses, mentally calculating how much they spent and what they could do without. The biggest chunk of change went to the mortgage, although if he were suddenly unemployed, they’d also have to worry about health insurance since they were insured through his work and her part-time job didn’t come with benefits.
That
would be a major expense, and while they had some savings in the bank, he doubted that they could survive for even another year unless he quickly found a position somewhere else.  

But he didn’t say any of that to Angie.  

“We’ll be fine,” he said dismissively. “Now be quiet. I’m trying to watch this show.”