"I took one look at the place and figured, forget it. No point wasting my time there."
"Went home, told my dad about it, and he just handed me the capital to start my own thing."
The food arrived.
The broth in the sour cabbage fish stew was still bubbling, steam curling off the surface.
I picked up my chopsticks, then set them down.
"Ray, you're offering too much."
He set his chopsticks down too and looked at me.
"Steve, we didn't work together for long, but I know exactly what kind of person you are."
"Mr. Mason's contract. Fifteen million dollars. You drank yourself into a stomach hemorrhage to close that deal."
"And then there's Mr. Perry, and all those other major accounts. Every single one of them took everything you had to land."
"Those clients aren't loyal to the company. They're loyal to you."
"Whether you're worth this offer? I already know the answer."
I raised my glass and clinked it against his.
That was when the door to one of the private dining rooms swung open.
Nelson Lambert stumbled out, his oily face flushed crimson, his steps unsteady.
Probably needed some air.
He spotted Ray and froze for a second. Then a grin spread across his face.
"Well, well. If it isn't Ray Fox."
"Heard you started your own little company?"
His eyes slid down to Ray's gray T-shirt, and his lip curled.
"Entrepreneurship's rough, huh."
"And Steve, you and Ray are... what, talking business?"
"Actually, that makes sense. You're unemployed now. If Ray needs someone to run errands, you'd be a perfect fit."
"After all, you're old colleagues. Gotta help each other out."
He turned back to Ray.
"Word of advice, though, Ray. Be careful who you hire."
"Steve worked at our company for seven years and scored negative one hundred and eight on his performance review. You really want to bring on someone like that?"
"You just started out. Your foundation's thin. Don't let a guy like him drag you under."
Ray set down his glass and looked up.
"You done? Then go back to your drinks and stop being an eyesore."
The grin on Nelson's face locked in place.
The alcohol was hitting him now. His flush deepened from red to a mottled, liver-colored purple.
"What's with the attitude, Ray? I was your manager. The fact that I'm even talking to you is a courtesy."
"That rinky-dink company of yours might not even last six months. What are you so cocky about?"
"Hiring people? Maybe figure out how to survive first."
He swung his finger toward me. "And you, Steve."
"You think switching companies is going to turn things around? A salesman with a negative score is a negative-score salesman wherever he goes."
"If you don't have the ability, you don't have the ability. Don't blame the system."
I'd had enough. I stood up.
The chair scraped back hard across the floor.
"Nelson, there's something about your system I've been wanting to ask you for a long time."
"When you were at that big corporation, were you actually managing sales, or were you managing attendance?"
The corner of his mouth twitched. He didn't answer.
"Ever since you showed up, it's been morning meetings, daily reports, clocking in, training exams. Twenty pages of performance criteria, and actual sales metrics accounted for fifteen percent."
"I kept asking myself, what kind of person designs a system like that?"
"Then it hit me. When you were at that big company, you were never in sales at all."
"You've never closed a deal. Never visited a client. Never carried a revenue target in your life."
"That's why the only things in your evaluation system are attendance, daily reports, and morning meetings."
"Because those things don't require a single original thought. All you have to do is hover over people and grind them down."
"You have no idea why a client signs a contract. No idea that factory owners care about delivery timelines and payment terms. No clue how to lock down a deal over dinner."
Lambert's face cycled between red and white, flustered to the point of sputtering. "What the hell are you talking about? I was a regional director at a Fortune 500 company! How could I not understand the business?"
"Regional director?" I scoffed. "Director of what region? The break room? The hallway outside your office?"
"You've been here almost a year. How many clients have you actually met? How many deals have you closed? How many factories have you set foot in?"
"You can't even get Mr. Perry's unit pricing straight, and you want to talk to me about being a regional director?"
"Your only real talent is building a system that welds your own chair to the floor in a company that never needed you."
"Mark my words. Sooner or later, people like you will run this company straight into the ground."
