Glass Ceilings Read online

Page 8


  Why delay this meeting, he prompted himself, when it’s the real purpose of my trip over here.

  The head of Orix Corp, Guy Wallace, was one of the most powerful members of RCL’s board of directors, and Royce wanted—needed—to put his proposal to him as soon as possible.

  No point in shutting the cage once the bird has flown.

  Or in waiting too long to ask an important question....

  His face hardened as he stepped into the lift and punched the number for the ninth floor. He was smoothly carried aloft, thankfully without the annoyance of canned music issuing from crackly speakers. When the lift doors swished open, he walked purposefully into the presidium’s light-filled foyer, barely noticing the shiny trophies and framed awards on display above the polished reception counter.

  A young woman looked up from the desk and smiled at him.

  ‘Royce James,’ he announced without preamble, ‘here to see Guy Wallace.’

  She gazed into his eyes. ‘Yes, good to see you again, Mr James. Mr Wallace is expecting you, please go in.’

  Royce nodded, and she fluttered her eyelashes at him.

  There are advantages to being considered RCL’s most eligible bachelor, he mused absently, pushing open the door to Guy’s office.

  ‘Royce! Come on in, boy. How was the trip?’ Guy rose, beaming, and extended a hand in warm greeting.

  Royce strode over to him, grinning at the other man’s good-natured American drawl. ‘Good to see you again, Guy.’ They shook hands. ‘Yes, the flight was OK, but that trip’s not getting any shorter.’

  ‘Yeah, wish we could somethin’ ‘bout that, but even I don’t have that much power,’ Guy chortled. He sat and indicated a chair. ‘Have a seat. Can I getcha a coffee?’ At Royce’s refusal he added, ‘Somethin’ stronger maybe? Y’look done-in, if ya don’t mind me sayin’.’

  Royce smiled again and shook his head. ‘No, thanks. I’m fine. Just a bit weary from the flight.’

  ‘Well then, if I can’t get anything for ya, I guess we should get down to business. I know y’didn’t fly all the way over here to make small talk, and I can see you’re a man with a mission. So, what’s on y’mind?’

  Guy’s wide smile had settled into a measured expression, and his bluntness caused a stirring of unease in Royce’s belly, which he firmly ignored.

  ‘I’m over here to finalise research on the viability of the process extension project.’

  ‘Oh, right, that Bayer expansion proposal. Y’must be gettin’ close to finishin’ the feasibility study b’now?’

  ‘Yep, only a few small ends to tie up.’

  ‘So, ’bout ready to seek implementation approval from the board?’

  Royce nodded and Guy leaned back in his chair. He hadn’t been an executive for thirty-odd years without gaining some valuable insight into people’s behaviours. Although Royce had kept him informed on progress, Guy was curious he’d heard no mention of the project from anyone else. It was a pretty big deal, but it appeared that neither the other board members, nor RCL’s new CEO, had been kept in the loop.

  All this secrecy made Guy suspicious. In a contemplative gesture, he spread his fingers wide, bounced the tips together, and considered Royce over them.

  It was as good a moment as any for Royce to launch into his spiel. ‘The research has so far proven that implementation of this method will succeed in increasing overall plant productivity, while initial outlay will be ... manageable.’ Royce cleared his throat. ‘Long term benefits include workforce reductions, a healthier bottom line, and an enhanced industry profile both in Australia and abroad.’ He paused to look carefully at Guy, who nodded at him to continue.

  ‘Following commissioning of the liquor burner, production is expected to increase to the target level of eight and a half thousand tons per day. In addition, we predict significant changes in quality, through the reduction of coarse fraction and calcium in the product. Targets of less than twenty millimetres are expected.’ He paused for emphasis. ‘Less than twenty, Guy. Unheard of before now!’

  The other man rested his hands on the desk, but remained silent.

  Royce’s confidence began to flag. This wasn’t the response he’d hoped for, but he carried on. ‘And, according to our research, the improvements to efficiency, combined with increases in productivity and reductions in operating costs, will make RCL one of the best performing alumina producers in the world.’

  Guy still didn’t speak, but studied his colleague through narrowed eyes. Many a devious executive had squirmed under that frank gaze, but Royce was careful to maintain an air of confidence and equanimity.

  Guy took his time to speak, considering his words carefully. ‘Yeah, the initial results look encouragin’.’ He rubbed his chin and frowned. ‘But this new process comes with risks. For a start, there’s no benchmark, we’d be inventin’ the wheel here. We’d have to shut down production while the new equipment is installed, and what if the new process doesn’t work straight off? What if there are bugs that take time to work through? And in the meantime, production’s in a holdin’ pattern. Dangerous waters, those.’

  Royce leaned forward in his chair. ‘Of course, innovation can be risky, but so can a lack of progress. It’s true no other alumina refinery has implemented this yet, but that doesn’t mean it won’t work. All it means is that we have the chance to be a world leader in the field. Surely that’s preferable to being too scared to dip a toe in the water in case it gets bitten off?’

  He grabbed a small book he’d noticed on the coffee table and waved it at Guy. ‘The cheese is moving Guy, and the RCL mice need to follow it.’ He dropped the book again, leaned over to rest his elbows on his knees, and clasped his hands together. He stared at the floor for a second, before taking a deep breath and fixing Guy with an intense gaze. ‘Look, I know this will work to our benefit, if we have the balls to grab the opportunity.’

  Guy gave a slow nod of his head. ‘I admire ya confidence, Royce.’

  Royce sat very still, wondering what was coming next.

  Guy regarded him closely. ‘But, tell me, if y’so sure about all this, why hasn’t your CEO been spruikin’ about it?’ His eyes remained fixed on Royce’s face. ‘Seems to me like she might’a been left outta the loop.’ He paused but continued eyeing Royce shrewdly. ‘If you’re wantin’ to obtain project approval—and I could be wrong, but it sure sounds to me like that’s what you’re leadin’ tod—the request has to come from her, you know that.’

  Royce swallowed. He’d known this would come up. Guy was no fool. Now all he could do was hope he’d read the situation right.

  ‘Guy, look, I—we—need approval for this now. To be a leader in the field, we have to move on this innovation as soon as we can, “quickly get to gung-ho” if you believe the corporate blurb. You know as well as I do how easily technical information leaks to our competition.’

  ‘Y’haven’t answered my question.’

  Royce opened his mouth but the words caught on the lining of his throat. Suddenly the intercom on Guy’s desk buzzed and he flicked the switch.

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘Sorry to disturb you, Mr Wallace, but I have that call you were expecting, on line one.’

  ‘’Scuse me will ya, Royce?’

  ‘Of course.’ Royce got to his feet, welcoming the break to gather his thoughts, and went out to the foyer. He stood in front of the large windows, but wasn’t admiring the view.

  What’s wrong with me? He scuffed the carpet with the toe of his shoe, deep in thought. Why can’t I just come out with it? It’s not that hard to say, “She won’t understand any of this and will only hold up proceedings”.

  This is the perfect opportunity to prove they made the wrong choice of CEO. If I can get Guy’s endorsement, the board won’t want to jeopardise the advantages of fast-tracking my project for the sake of protocol, I’m sure of that. As long as I can deliver on my promises, they won’t care whose head I’ve gone over.

  He scowled. They might
have passed me over for the job, but I shouldn’t have to explain and justify every move I make, to someone who’s still wet behind the ears. I know what’s right for the company, and the success of this project will be ample proof of that.

  He cast aside the guilt corroding his resolve.

  We’re all pawns on the chess board with the board of directors calling the play. But, unlike me, she, and he purposefully avoided Verity’s name, is at their mercy, while I know how to beat them at their own game.

  ‘Mr James, Mr Wallace is off the phone now.’

  ‘Thanks.’ Royce strode into the office and resumed his seat. Before Guy could speak, he jumped in with, ‘Guy, how well do you know my ... CEO?’ It still rankled to refer to the title that should have been his.

  A sudden memory flashed into his mind, of Ella, her golden hair tousled from sleep, smiling proudly at him and saying in her velvety-soft voice, ‘Stop agonising, my love, you’ll get there. You’ll be CEO one day, just wait and see.’ The hole she’d left in his heart still ached. He blinked hard, and frowned.

  Don’t go there. No weakness, remember? Work is all I have now. I can’t lose sight of that.

  ‘Verity Parker?’ Guy’s smile took on a slightly predatory slant. ‘Well, from all accounts, she’s the kinda lady I’d be onto like stink on a monkey, if I were young and single! But don’t go mentionin’ that to Miz Wallace, now.’ He winked and looked on in amusement as Royce shifted uncomfortably in his seat. ‘Oh, ya mean professionally-speakin’? Well, I know she’s tryin’ her damnedest to keep her head above water, and there’re plenty of sharks snappin’ at her pretty heels.’ He raised an enquiring eyebrow at Royce. ‘But from what I understand, she’s intelligent, capable, and quick on the uptake. Would ya agree with that summation?’

  Royce flinched inwardly.

  Damn, that doesn’t help my cause.

  But his nimble mind recovered quickly. ‘Well, yes, but do you realise how long it would take to explain the new process to her, considering her lack of experience in this specialised field? And then to convince her the advantages outweigh the risks? In the meantime, we might lose an opportunity to get ahead of the opposition, and delay realising the projected benefits.’ He hoped he wasn’t sounding desperate.

  Guy empathised with what Royce was trying to do. He’d been an ambitious young pup himself, once, and knew the pain of being passed over for a job assumed to be his for the taking. He also understood why, ever since the accident, Royce’s career had been so important to him. Yes, he could easily imagine how difficult it would be for Royce to simply lie down and accept the situation. But there was no ignoring the fact this was a blatant attempt to cut Verity out of the chain of command. If it was successful, Guy foresaw it leading to more subversion, followed by corporate dysfunction and the ultimate destabilisation of the CEO’s authority.

  Although aware some thought otherwise, he knew the selection panel hadn’t appointed Verity to the position only to see her fail. He eyed Royce intently. Allowing him to bypass his CEO on this would set a precedent that could ultimately damage the company. Guy sighed and frowned. He was sure Royce would realise that too, when the dust had settled.

  Decision, made.

  ‘I don’t reckon you’re givin’ your CEO enough credit, Royce. What makes y’think it would take more time to convince her than you’ve spent with me today? ’Though I guess I’ve had regular updates from the onset, which I don’t believe she’s had the benefit of?’

  Royce squirmed.

  Guy swallowed a half smile. He was pleased to see that underneath all the corporate armour, the man was still human. He went on, ‘But I’m sure if ya explained it to her like y’have to me, she’d comprehend it soon enough.’ A mute stare greeted him, so he continued, ‘Now, although I still have a few reservations, I’ll support this project.’

  Royce breathed a sigh of relief, but it was short-lived.

  ‘But what y’want from me today, Royce, we both know, I can’t give ya. Not right now. I’m behind y’on this, but if ya want the green light for this project, ya gotta go through the normal channels.’

  Royce’s heart sank, but he still wasn’t prepared to give in. ‘Oh hell, Guy, can’t the proposal be put to the board via a round-robin? We could get approval faster that way, and cut all the crap.’ He was sure the other members would pass the notion if it had Guy’s endorsement.

  ‘Look, I think I know how y’feel, but ya gotta accept it sometime, boy. She’s ya CEO, y’answer to her and she represents y’on the board. Ya gotta take this proposal to her and convince her to put it forward. Hell’s bells, son, the executive committee meeting is only a week or so away. That means y’got time to sell the plan to her, and then it’s only a short wait for the board’s response. We’re not talkin’ decades here.’

  Royce exhaled slowly. He knew he was beaten. He had five days to give his report to Verity and convince her to table the proposal at the EC meeting. He knew he could do it; he just didn’t want to have to defer to her like that.

  ‘Y’know, Royce, that ’lil lady didn’t shaft ya. She simply took advantage of an opportunity that came her way. Ya should give her credit for havin’ the gumption to throw her bonnet in the arena in the first place. In her shoes, ya would’a done exactly the same without a second thought.’

  Royce stared at him but didn’t comment.

  Guy sat forward and said in a gentler tone. ‘Look, we all know y’were the obvious choice for the CEO job, and nobody’s sayin’ ya wouldn’a handled it brilliantly. But all’s fair in love and war, remember?’

  Something akin to angst flashed across Royce’s face, and Guy knew he’d said enough.

  ‘C’mon Royce, enough talk about work. How’s about ya come with me for a hit or two on the golf course tomorrow afternoon? It’s been mighty fine weather recently, and I haven’t had a chance to try out my new wood yet. I’ve a hankerin’ to look over the course at Tall Oaks ’cos the social club’s plannin’ to hold an Ambrose competition there. Naturally, I’d like to have a practice hit, just to familiarise myself with the course, y’realise,’ he winked, ‘and make sure I’m in the runnin’ for that spiffy trophy. And I hear tell the clubhouse is the home of the “biggest and best ever” porterhouse steak. We could have dinner there, after the game. What d’ya say, champ?’

  Royce shrugged off his disappointment, and did his best to smile. ‘Sounds great, Guy. What say we meet on the course at five-thirty?’

  ‘I’ll be there with bells on, m’friend.’ As both men rose to their feet, Guy added, ‘And I’ve got one last pithy sayin’ for ya ... when a door closes, a window opens.’

  ‘Yeah, someone already told me that.’

  Guy chortled and thumped Royce on the shoulder. ‘Always glad to know a boy who listens to his elders!’

  Outside, Guy’s secretary was in the middle of a whispered conversation on the telephone. When she saw Royce emerge from Guy’s office, she quickly changed the subject until he was out of earshot.

  ‘It’s OK, Kerry, he’s gone. Now, as I was saying, the button just happened to be pressed on the intercom,’ and she gave a wicked giggle, ‘so I overheard....’

  When Royce arrived at the golf course the following afternoon, he wasn’t surprised or pleased to find two other Orix executives joining their game. He knew both men, and liked neither of them. Peter Connell was technical manager for Orix Corp and a director on the RCL board. His side-kick, Walter Lewis, was head of Orix’s commercial department. Both men were universally unpopular, and consensus was that Lewis held a PhD, with honours, in the art of crawling. At their somewhat strained pre-game drinks in the club’s bar, overlooking the eighteenth green, Royce wondered what had induced Guy to invite the other two to join the game. As it turned out, they’d invited themselves.

  When the four men had collected their buggies and were heading for the first tee, Guy nudged him saying, ‘What d’ya say, Royce? Should we play off the blue or the gold tees?’

  ‘Your choice
Guy, you’re the golf nut,’ Royce smiled.

  Guy slapped him on the back. ‘OK, gold it is. So, hole number one is three hundred ’n eighty-three yards, with a slight dog-leg to the left. Hmm, think I’ll use my ‘Big Bertha’ number one wood for this shot. Y’might wanna consider a similar weapon. If I remember rightly, the angle on this hole should suit your natural hook.’

  Royce grinned and bent over his bag to choose a club.

  ‘So, Royce, how’s life in Oz with your new CEO?’ The sneer in Peter Connell’s voice made the hairs tingle on Royce’s neck.

  ‘Fine.’ His abrupt reply only seemed to amuse Connell further, and he dug an elbow into Lewis’ ribs.

  All eyes were on Royce as he prepared to take his tee shot.

  ‘Watch yourself with that wood, now. It’s a man’s club and won’t take kindly to anyone that hits like a girl,’ Lewis sniggered loudly.

  Royce ignored him. With a crack, he launched the ball down the fairway, which, as predicted, veered slightly left.

  Guy gave a long whistle. ‘Damn it boy, there was some aggro in that!’

  Connell couldn’t hide his disappointment at what had been a fine first shot. He scowled when Royce threw a victorious grin over his shoulder, saying, ‘You’re up next, Peter.’

  The game was only half over and Royce was already wondering how much more he could stand of the snide remarks by Connell and Lewis. Although they were sometimes only voicing sentiments he himself had felt, Royce resented their interest in him and his female boss. And he felt twinges of disloyalty for standing by while his CEO was bad-mouthed. He could feel his tolerance stretching to breaking point, and was glad when Guy came over to stand beside him.

  ‘So, what’s ya strategy for this hole? She’s another long one, ’though not as long as that number six. Man, I thought I was never gonna make it to that hole. Let’s see,’ and Guy glanced at the course map in his hand, ‘this one’s three hundred and eighty-nine yards, fairly straight but with a left twist at the end. Another that should suit y’nicely.’