bragged. “My son works for IBM. He’s really smart and I taught him everything he knows.”
One day, a buck slip with a memo attached arrived at Chuck’s desk with an interesting message:
IBM is opening a branch in Australia and is looking for fast track career-oriented men and women to jump-start IBM Australia. We need customer engineers, salesmen, managers, and system programmers. Contact Human Resources for more information.
IBM needed people to train new programmers for the Australian offices. The pay was much more than he currently made, so Chuck filled out the necessary paperwork.
Within the week, his manager called him to his office. “Chuck, you requested a transfer last week and I received the notice this morning. Pack your bags. You’re going to Australia.”
Chuck was speechless. “I—I don’t know what to say.”
His manager gave him a brilliant smile. “You don’t need to say anything. This is a great opportunity for you, and I know you’ll do an excellent job.”
Still stunned, Chuck managed to choke out a few words. “I didn’t think it would go through.”
His boss stuck out his hand. “Well, your application has been accepted, and you’ve got two weeks to check in with your new supervisor. Congratulations. We’re going to miss you.”
Chuck regained his composure, straightened, and shook his hand. “Thank you, sir. I’ve enjoyed working for you.”
He sold everything he couldn’t take on the plane and left for Sydney, Australia exactly ten days from that meeting.
Flying into Sydney, Chuck found himself strongly attracted by the aerial view of the famous opera house. He found an apartment near the office and immersed himself in his work. In a few short years, he had trained enough eager programmers to ensure proper service for IBM accounts in Sydney and transferred to Brisbane.
“O’Malley?” coworkers would say. “You can depend on him. He’s a dedicated and loyal IBMer. In fact, he borders on genius and uses his creativity to better the company. You can tell he loves it here.”
Chuck loved his work, but little did they know that he longed to break out of the corporate world. He dreamed and schemed between projects. If I could find a way out of here, I would leave in a New York minute. It boils down to money. I can’t leave and still enjoy this income. He reconciled himself to the fact that he probably would stay right where he was and never get out of IBM.
He decided to take night classes at the local university for a diversion. Desiring something foreign to programming and computers, he chose geology. He thought studying rocks would get him out into the countryside and force him to see more of Australia than the cities and tourist traps. He was right. He found himself out in the Australian bush… and he loved it. Then he met George.
***
The Malibu Club events coordinator followed Lana Lane around the newest facility on Malibu Beach.
“Mrs. Lane, you have exquisite taste. This is the most exclusive venue in the area.”
Lana Lane’s nose went up. “Even so, it will be necessary to make a few small changes in the décor for the Save the Orchids benefit. The drapes need to be changed out from these royal blue linens to forest-green silks with imprints of palm trees and hanging vines. See my assistant for details.”
The events coordinator made a note on her clipboard. “Yes, Mrs. Lane, we’ll get right on it.” Then she tried to make a point. “The blue linen was just installed.”
Lana ignored the remark. “The royal blue carpet will never do and must be replaced with the hunter green speckled with tiny orchids that I chose last week. Now take me to the kitchen. I want to speak to the staff.”
“Please, follow me through this door.” They walked into a sparkling commercial stainless kitchen. The coordinator raised her voice so the workers in the room could hear. “Please gather around. This is Mrs. Lawrence Lane from Lane Unlimited. She would like to have a word with you about the upcoming Save the Orchids benefit.”
Lana looked into the confused faces of the kitchen staff as they gathered around her little group. She fairly bristled as she spoke. “I chose this facility as the venue for the annual Save the Orchids banquet. I intend to make the evening a spectacular event, even by Hollywood standards. I know each one of you wants to make it a success, too.”
The coordinator spoke up. “You know we have a reputation above all other venues.”
Lana stepped in front of her and continued speaking to the kitchen staff. “I want everyone to know my desires for this benefit. These are my assistants. If you have any questions after my directions, please speak to them. First, every dish on the buffet tables must be decorated with an orchid, and there must be many varieties visible throughout the rooms.”
Everyone nodded in agreement while the events coordinator furiously scribbled notes, trying to keep up with Lana’s instructions.
Lana continued. “The main buffet table centerpiece consists of a giant ice sculpture of the rarest orchid to date, the centennial orchid. Scholars believe this orchid last bloomed in 1910. I’m excited at the prospect of seeing this beautiful plant portrayed in ice. The width of the bloom exceeds three feet; it is the brightest pink ever seen in a flowering plant. The ice sculpture will be done by the winner of the ice sculpture competition held in Aspen, Colorado, last year; I want all of you to be extremely cautious as you work around it.”
“Yes, yes.” The event coordinator nodded. “Every precaution will be taken to protect the ice sculptures and other plants your people bring.”
Lana looked down at the coordinator. “Work with both of my assistants.” She motioned to the women standing behind her. “I’m confident the Malibu Club staff can pull together and make this the best event of the year.”
Both assistants stood behind Lana, nodding and smiling. So much planning and detail went into this charity event that Lana needed two assistants. Each assistant had an assistant of their own. The immense pressure on the primary assistants showed in their eyes. Lana never said it, but all of them knew if anything went wrong on the night of the benefit, it very well could mean death to their careers.
Lana turned to her assistants. “Make sure the staff and servers all understand the level of perfection I expect.”
Lana ignored one of the kitchen staff whispering to her colleague with a thick Hispanic accent, “Lana Lane has no problem blackballing an employee who doesn’t perform as expected. I feel sorry for her assistants. What she expects takes superhero power.”
“I know,” the coworker answered. “The good side to working for Lana Lane is that the project promises a big, creative, and exciting experience with no limit to expense. L. L. Lane Unlimited pays exorbitant salaries, and with success comes the praises of the Lane family; then you’re set for life.”
Lana left the kitchen and walked back into the oversized foyer to sit in a red overstuffed chair. “Over here.” She motioned to her assistants. “Let me give you a picture of my expectations.”
The coordinator and assistants joined Lana in the small conversation grouping near the fireplace. Each of them pulled out their notepads.
“The evening begins with the arrival of celebrities, stepping on a wide red carpet from their limousines. After entering, checking coats, bags, and whatever, the guests drift into the foyer bar. Champagne, wine, mixed drinks, and hors d’oeuvres, served by waiters in specially designed jungle print tuxedos, will give guests time to mingle before dinner.”
“Excuse me, Mrs. Lane,” one of the assistants interrupted. “I wonder about the jungle print tuxes. Have those been ordered?”
Lana snapped tersely, “Well, that’s what you’re supposed to know. There had better be jungle print tuxes. Understand?”
“Yes, Mrs. Lane.”
Lana’s