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Authors: Ray N. Kuili

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He shrugged, not even trying to hide his frustration. “It ’s your choice after all. But let ’s try to respect our own rules in the future and avoid these kind s of games. Otherwise, soon we ’ll have a bookie ’s here rather than a leadership class.”

“Oh, that’d be cool, ” Paul said cheerfully . “Great idea! Open a bookie’s and I ’ll place a bet on myself.”

“And lose,” Stella added sweetly.

“Hey!” Chris raised his hand in a warning. “Now, that really is against the rules.”

“Why?” Stella questioned .

“Because it comes too close to a personal attack.”

“A personal attack? Where did you see a personal attack?”

“She’s right, ” Paul confirmed. “My level of tolerance is super high when it comes to remarks from a beautiful lady. Don ’t worry about me getting hurt. My skin is very thick.”

Stella gave him a curt smile and continued before Chris could say a word , “This is not a personal attack. This is simple logic. When I vote for someone who bets on himself, I ’m giving him my own money without getting anything in return. So what ’s in it for me? I want to vote for a leader who at least cares about me a little .”

“Good luck with that, ” said Robert. “Just don ’t go to real elections with th o se expectations.”

“I won’t, ” Stella reassured him. “But now I ’d like to clarify one point.”

“We’re late, you know, ” Chris said bitterly.

“This won’t take long. And trust me, it ’s better to spend a few minutes on this now than hours of fighting down the road. It seems that , despite all our debates yesterday , we didn ’t cover one particular key point.”

Chris let out a nearly inaudible sigh.

“Give it a break, will you, ” Stella said irritably. “This is critical. We all realize that the only thing each of us cares about here is his or her own interests—”

“Why would you say something like that ?” Kevin asked her reproachfully. “I ’m not so sure I ’d agree with that.”

Stella spared him a brief glance and repeated, “We all know that the only thing each one of us here cares about is his or her own interests.”

She paused for a long moment .

“Caring about anything else under these circumstances would be naive at best. We all know this. So let ’s spare the rhetoric. There ’s just one thing every one of us wants now—to be elected the leader. To win . This is obvious , and I ’m not going waste my time arguing about it . I never argue with hypocrites. Each one of us has worked hard to get here. Each one of us understands the importance of winning here. Each one of us is ready to play hardball to win. I know I am.

“But!” she raised her finger, “there ’s a line I won ’t cross. And crossing that line is something I wouldn’t recommend to anyone in this room.”

“You’re making it so complicated, ” Brandon said.

“If anything, I ’m simplifying it. It will get complicated if we skip this discussion now. So let ’s not cross that line. Let ’s not bet openly on ourselves.”

“Can you clarify?” said Michael.

“I’d be delighted to .” The charming smile didn ’t leave Stella ’s face for a moment, but her tone remained serious.

“I don’t care how precisely people are going to follow the rules we ’ve come up with. If someone wants to use his pool skills to weaken the competition , so be it. Especially if someone else is willing to give it a try. After all, I win —no matter who loses that pool game. I don ’t care how truthful today ’s presentations will be. I wouldn ’t even care if somebody decides to dance the can-can instead of presenting. As far as I ’m concerned, it ’s all right to do practically anything, even promise to pay everyone a thousand bucks as a return.

“But we should not play dirty. You all know what I mean. No dirty tricks. No backstabbing. No monkey business. We ’re going to play fair, no matter how cheesy that may sound.”

She broke off.

“Not sure I understand why you even bothered to talk about that , ” Alex said after a somewhat tense silence. “We ’re all too smart to cross that kind of line.”

“I’m glad to hear that.”

And Stella leaned back, having glanced quickly at Michael.

“That is unless Chris manages to set up a bookie ’s and Paul places a bet on himself, ” Alan added.

“To tell you the truth, I wouldn ’t mind getting a thousand bucks as a return, ” Paul informed everyone dreamingly, his eyes rolling towards the ceiling. “Anyone care to make me an offer? I promise I won ’t refuse. Ah . . . pity . . .”

Chris knocked on the table and cleared his throat.

“Thank you, Stella , for sharing your interesting perspective with us . I ’m glad we ’ve talked this over . Now let ’s move on. We have a draw to finish. Joan—”

“I think Stella touched upon a very important subject, ” Michael said, softly interrupting him. “Does anyone disagree with what she ’s said?”

Chris was stunned.

“What are you talking about? Let it go. Why don ’t we also agree not to set this house on fire? Of course everyone agrees with what she ’s just said. Isn ’t that obvious?”

“Is it?” Michael asked thoughtfully.

“What kind of a question is that ?” Kevin reacted , appalled . “We ’re not out of our minds ; we wouldn’t play those kind s of games. I deal with enough backstabbing at work.”

Michael studied the faces.

“Okay. Seems that everyone is in agreement. Let ’s move on then.”

Chris shook his head in slight frustration.

“I agree that was an interesting discussion, but let ’s try to stay focused. Otherwise we won ’t be done with this draw before lunch time .”

He shook his head again and turned back to the flipchart.

“Fine, we skip Alex. Who ’s next?”

Joan, with barely noticeable irritation, looked sideways at Stella and drew the next piece of paper from the bowl.

“Brandon,” she announced.

 

 

“When it comes to my past, there ’s one thing you can be sure of, ” Alan began. “There ’s nothing unusual about it.”

He opened his hands with a winning smile.

“It’s the unremarkable past of an unremarkable A-grader. Of course, I could tell you where I was born, who my parents were, at what age I went to kindergarten, names of my friends at preschool and the names of the boys I fought with, the name of my first -grade teacher, the subjects I liked the most, and the name of the town where we moved when I was twelve. But something tells me that this information would only exemplify how ordinary my bio is. Plus, to be honest, I don ’t remember the names of my preschool friends , nor do I have any recollection of my first—grade teacher ’s name or even what she looked like .

“Truth be told, I do remember the name of my last teacher , along with the fact that I had a thing for her. Back then I was under the impression that this striking young woman was attracted to me beyond the usual teacher-student relationship ; however , speaking about this today would be nothing but a miserable attempt to stir some cheap interest. So I ’m not about to bore you with all the tedious details and milestones of my path to this room ; instead I’ll entertain you with a few select episodes from my past. These episodes are directly related to the subject of our course and, at the same time, won ’t lull you off to sleep. Come to think of it, ” he pondered for a second, “I ’ll even ignore the chronological order.”

He’s good, Stella thought, looking at the slender figure dressed as usual in light colors. He ’s really good, you have to give him that. He knows how to talk to people. His speech is so crisp, so clear, so witty and charming, and it benefits so much from his fresh smile, which seems much more natural than Chris’s flashy but unquestionably artificial smile . You ’d think that , of all the people in this room, Alan would not be able to score too high in this particular exercise. Everyone around is likely to have more stories to tell than this boy. You wouldn ’t expect him to tell anything comparable to the kind of stories Rob and Brandon are likely to present. And what do you know, he ’s using this obvious shortcoming to his advantage!

Instead of trying to impress us, he stands up and says, “I don ’t have much to tell, I ’m boring, I ’m average . . . Don ’t expect a lot from me.” And next, he turns this message upside down. True, I haven ’t been around as long as you have (hey, it ’s because I ’m young in case you haven ’t noticed), but to tell you the truth, I do have stories to share. And you ’re going to listen to me, and you ’re going to relate to my stories, and you ’re going to laugh with me. And you ’re going to realize that I ’m a first-rate leader despite —or perhaps because of—my young age .

And he’s all business now. It ’s hard to believe that this is the same guy who was proclaiming last night, “I ’m not ambitious. I just want the world to drop dead at the sight of my awesomeness, that ’s all.” Although he probably meant it.

Yes, he’s good. There ’s one peculiarity in his behavior today though. Why is he glancing so often at Joan? At times it looks as if his speech is intended for her ears only. This is a mistake. People will take a note of this. Although he ’s not the only one whose eyes gaze too often in the direction of the blonde hair /blue eyes combo. Paul is in the same camp. Okay, all the men here glance at her every now and then, but these two are much more active than they were yesterday. Makes you wonder why . . .

“ . . .Imagine this, ” Alan was saying , mean while, “I ’m at my first meeting ever with clients who are real important. There are three of them—real enterprise -level folks. Representing our company are our director, a couple of general managers, and a few other big shots. And of course, yours truly, proud and eager. We all meet at some super luxury athletic club, proceed into their restaurant, sit down, order some ridiculously expensive food and start a lofty business conversation. This meeting being so important, we expect the arrival of our VP. He ’s late but, being a VP, he can afford to be . I ’m keeping a low profile, being the least important person at the table, but whenever an opportunity presents itself, I open my mouth and say something shrewd and insightful. Everything goes without a hitch : the clients are happy, our big shots are happy, my director is happy, eve ryone seems to appreciate my comments, so I ’m happy too.

“Finally our VP arrives. What a great timing, I ’m thinking, I ’ve just spent the last fifteen minutes honing my image and becoming a respectful member of this gathering, so now it ’s show time, baby! He walks in and everyone stands up for the usual handshakes and greetings . He knows everyone on our side, save for me, and has never met the clients. So he shakes hands with everyone, listens to introductions, repeats his own name every time . . . n ice to meet you . . . terrific to meet you . . .” Alan squeezed an imaginary hand, “Nice to meet you . . . Finally he meets all the client reps, shakes hands with me, listens to my name and , exactly in the same tone , repeats his , ‘Nice to meet you.’ And then this crazy thought hits me . . .” Alan quieted for a moment, “He probably took me for one of them! And, being fast and sm art, I immediately inform him that I work for our company, not for theirs. He gives me this extremely lengthy look, trying to internalize this revelation , and then says , ‘Despite that fact, it is still nice to meet you.’ And all those bastards giggle and snort.”

Stella chuckled with the rest of the room. Another well -measured portion of self-irony. Look at me : I ’m not perfect, I make mistakes, I ’m down to earth . . . Self-irony is a very powerful tool, if, of course, you don ’t get carried away and end up turn ing yourself into a clown. I wonder , does he know where to draw the line?

He knew. One more story depicted him in a funny light and this time made his listeners laugh. But then funny stories somehow transformed smoothly into stories of a different kind, in which, instead of making blunders , he was making sound decisions and handling tough situations. And these decisions were anything but trivial, and the situations were anything but simple and at times were even ethically challenging. And he was assuming responsibility and wasn ’t afraid of dangerous consequences and fought fearlessly for his people, and sometimes even suffered the wrath of his management for his tendency to explore un beaten paths.

Not only did he know where to draw the line, but he also knew very well where to draw the next one. At some point the dramatic stories faded away , replaced by further stories. In these stories , he was making mistakes but later they somehow miraculously turned into victories.

He knew a lot, and when he didn ’t know something, his gut instinct helped him . So when his speech was over, they all applauded —although had anyone asked them an hour ago whether he would get such a reaction, they would only have snort ed in response. And he glanced again at Joan and headed for his seat—slender, offensively young and extremely confident. As for Joan , she smiled a mysterious smile, which he did not find mysterious at all.

Their generosity, however, had its limits. Stella, who was next in line, did not get any applause, although , after hearing their reaction to Alan ’s speech , she had been keeping her hopes high. At first everything was going well—the story of a not-so-popular schoolgirl was getting their attention, just as planned. She covered the incident at a Miami summer camp (she had to skip the juiciest parts), told them how her entire class had boycotted a lesson at her instigation , and mentioned her face-off with the school principal. The part about her a ikido studies even sparked some approving murmur s from her audience, and she had the impression that , for the first time , Robert was looking at her with some interest. But somewhere in the middle of her speech something went wrong.

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