VELOCITY - DEE JACOB [123]
On the appointed day late in January, Amy arrived at the Winner corporate offices in Manhattan only to discover that Nigel’s Crystal Ball had already taken place – so far as everyone else was concerned. The other presidents had made their presentations the day before. They were already at some exclusive club in Texas for a few days of hunting, fishing, and golf – flown there in Winner’s fastest plane, a Citation X. Nigel would join them that evening. He had stayed behind so that Amy could make her presentation to him – alone. This was not a good sign, Amy feared.
Nigel kept her waiting in his conference room for what seemed like hours. He finally arrived – with two of his staff, who were superfluous; they said almost nothing. Amy greeted him with upbeat cheeriness. He responded with stone-faced grumpiness.
“I want you to know,” Nigel said, “that Peter and I have had several discussions about you. It is safe to say that Peter is not your biggest fan these days – if indeed you have any fans at all. Really, does anyone believe in your leadership anymore?”
“I think my staff believes in me, more so now than ever,” Amy said.
“Really?”
“Yes. And I think that most of Hi-T’s customers still believe in me.”
“Customers, right,” said Nigel. “Those are becoming fewer in number, are they not?”
“We’re making changes. We’ll get them back,” she said.
“How?”
Amy gestured to the Reality Tree.
“Good Lord, what is that?”
“It is a logical map showing what has gone wrong, how we intend to address the issues, and exactly what must happen in order for us to get back to profitable growth.”
Nigel sighed.
“All right, proceed,” he said. “However, I am sure you are aware that your future with Winner will be decided by what you are about to say.”
She began with background and then delved into the misconceptions and events that made up the chains of “undesirables” – the UDE Tree. At first, Nigel interrupted her every few minutes to complain about lack of foresight or to scold her for not being more vigilant. But Amy kept her cool, and as she began to describe the elements of the Turnaround Tree, Nigel listened more carefully, hand on his chin as he concentrated and grunting every so often to acknowledge a point she had made.
In the end, after more than an hour, he sat there skeptical, but intrigued.
“It seems simplistic,” Nigel said. “It’s … too easy to understand.”
“Oh. Well, would you would prefer a convoluted plan that’s incomprehensible?” Amy asked.
Nigel frowned.
“Listen, I know you have your doubts,” she said seriously. “But you understand the bottom line. Why not just judge us on that basis?”
Nigel pinched his lower lip with thumb and forefinger as he mulled over what his decision should be.
“All right,” he said at last. “I will give you three months. One financial quarter. If you can effect a quick and clear turnaround in that amount of time, we’ll let you continue. But the reversal of trend has to be unmistakable. There must be no further backsliding – on any of the metrics.”
15
So the race was on. Back home in Highboro and exhausted, Amy went to bed right after dinner – only to wake up at three o’clock in the morning as if some menacing phantom sent by Nigel had come into her bedroom to torment her. She turned on the light next to her bed, and she was alone, of course. Yet the phantom was real and it was in her bedroom; it was the fear and worry over how she could possibly accomplish what had to be done to effect the turnaround in three months. Three months, that was all the time she had. After an hour or so lying there, her mind spinning, she gave up on sleep, put on her robe, went down to the kitchen, and brewed coffee.
By 5:00 a.m. or so, she had made the decision to have a small management team. All functions were essential, and all had contributed to creating the Reality Tree. But now it was time for action – and there was no time for long or superfluous discussions. So she decided that the core turnaround team would be a foursome: herself as über-boss,