The meeting was breaking up in Alvin's office and the mood turned jovial. It had been a good forecast meeting. All divisions were in "sync" so there was confidence among them. Although the meeting was held in the CEO's office, Frank had chaired it. It was the first such meeting with him as the new CFO. Although Frank was new to the job, he was known to those around the table. He had been recently promoted from his former position as Corporate Controller. To most of the brass it had been a welcome elevation. Frank had spent years at the company earning their respect.
The crowd of VP's started to shuffle from the office. From his chair behind the large walnut desk Alvin called out, "Frank, would you stay behind a few minutes?"
Frank turned and took a chair in front of the desk as the office emptied. When they were alone Alvin rose, walked to the door and closed it. "Have one with me, Frank?"
"Well, Al, I would, but it's a little early for me." Frank answered.
"I'd appreciate it if you would, anyway. I think I recall that you're a Scotch man. It'll be bourbon for me."
The older man lifted the panel on a hidden wet-bar in an office alcove. In a minute he returned with two tumblers filled with three fingers each.
"Cheers!' Alvin broke the silence.
Frank lifted his glass and took a healthy sip. "That's good Scotch, Al."
Al sat behind his desk, head bowed, staring into the amber lubricant.
Frank broke the silence. "I think the forecast is fine, Al. The 10-Q will be on Wall Street at month's end. The conference call with the investment bankers will go well."
Alvin raised his head to look at Frank. "That's not why I wanted to talk with you. I know all that will be fine."
Alvin continued, "With your installation tonight as CFO, I want to clear the air. I was against your appointment, but the Board overrode me. It was nothing personal. I thought we needed a bigger name to help push through the stock offering next month. You're here now, and we'll work together."
"I will not let you or the Board down; and the stock offering will go fine." Frank answered.
"I know that, Frank." Alvin answered. "You see, what I really want to say to you is that the Board was right and I was wrong. It's hard to admit it, but now I'm glad you were chosen. I've been watching you. You are right for the job."
The promotion had been a surprise to some. "Controller-types" were not usually considered for the top finance job. It usually goes to a Wall Street guy from outside the company. The Board had taken a long time, but finally decided. Now Frank was in the corner office next to Alvin's. He had taken over the duties a few weeks ago, but tonight would be the formal installation at a management dinner party at Alvin's estate. The Board members were already arriving at the airport.
With the admission, Frank's estimation of Alvin increased. In his view, it took a big person to do what Al had just done. Frank had arrived at Western Chemicals a dozen years ago at about the same time as Alvin. The older man arrived as President. Frank had been part of the outside auditing firm that helped split the new company away from its parent. He was thirty then. From deep in the bowels of the finance organization, he had moved up the food chain to the position that he just won. Frank was short and stocky, five-eight, if he let his hair grow. He looked like he was still playing fullback for his college football team. He could be a bulldog, when required. Many said that when Frank "'had a tiger by the tail', it would be just a matter of time before a striped rug appeared in Frank's den". He had decided at the start that he would forego the office politics games and let his work speak for itself. By not playing the game he had won it. He had made no enemies and became a leader by example. When a tough assignment came up, Frank's name did, too. He earned a string of promotions.
Alvin changed the subject, "Well, are you and the little lady ready for the big gala at the house tonight?' Alvin went on, his face now crinkled with impending mirth, "We'll have a band. I'll bet you'll want to dance a few slow ones with Trudy. That must always be ... interesting." Alvin laughed at his own joke.
Frank did not speak out loud, but to himself he sighed. "That joke was only slightly funny the first two hundred times I heard it. I can't believe that I'm a senior officer in one of the largest corporations in the world and I have to sit here and listen to lewd jokes about my wife."
The joke was about the obvious disparity in height between Frank and his wife, Trudy. While Frank scraped five-eight, Trudy towered at six-two. The slow-dance image was of Frank's face in Trudy's cleavage as they paced around the dance floor. It was a fallacy. With a difference of six inches, Frank's eyes were at Trudy's chin or a little lower if she wore heels. At any rate, Trudy and Frank managed fine, and there were advantages to having a tall wife that less fortunate men could not understand.
Alvin saw Frank's distant look. "You probably hear that one all the time. I'm sorry. Actually, I like Trudy. She and Gloria should get together more. They'd probably hit it off!" Al glanced back to the picture framed behind him on his credenza to emphasize the reference.
"Not really!" Frank thought, but again, kept his silence. Gloria had that trophy wife aura. It was Gloria's job to look good all the times. She had a standing weekly appointment at an exclusive salon. No one knew her actual hair color or her age-even Gloria may have forgotten them. She had a personal trainer that would visit her in the mini-gym at the estate and help her work on her tummy and derriere; afterward they would crush cellulite away from her thighs with a rolling pin. She would luncheon at the club, then attend a Board meeting at her 'charity du jour'. After such a hard day she would relax on the veranda by sipping iced tea and vodka as she watched the muscular gardeners tend to the grounds. She served as 'fashion coordinator for all formal social gatherings. Gloria had an entourage of other executive wives. They all had the same routine, but Gloria did it best and the others wanted to learn from the Grand Mistress.
Frank downed the rest of his drink. "Al, I have to clear a few things off my desk before I go home. Thanks for the drink. Thanks for your confidence, you won't be sorry. See you tonight."
The two shook hands as they parted.
Frank was walking to his car in the company lot a while later. He saw Al waiting for his driver. Frank could have a driver, too, but hated the pretension of it.
The corporate office was near the center of the city. Frank lived in a suburb some miles out of town. Traffic was heavy. During the drive home he had a chance to think about his conversation with Al earlier that afternoon. He was happy that it had taken place. He had not known of Al's opposition, but it didn't bother him now that the air was clear. He had wondered why the Board had taken so long to select a new CFO. It had been difficult to be a candidate and function as Controller at the same time. The delay had given the obvious signal that there was serious opposition. He had considered withdrawing briefly, but decided to hang tough.