“Yes, I have one.”
It was Paul Webster, the immediate past chair of the board, the man, I knew, that Eleanor has just taken the gavel from, his term as chair ending and hers beginning at the start of this very board meeting. Other than that, I didn’t know him at all. I hardly knew anyone on the board. Mary kept them very well insulated from me and the rest of the staff. All I knew about Paul was what he looked like—a gray-haired bureaucrat in a blue suit.
“Paul?” Eleanor said, acknowledging him as having the floor.
“It’s my understanding that two senior staff people have recently left the organization—Susan Sanford and Michael Lopez. Both of whom had significant responsibilities associated with this conference.”
Paul paused, as if expecting me to affirm the truth of his statement. I kept my eyes on him, but could see Mary fidget in my peripheral vision, purposelessly lining up her pen with the top edge of her legal pad. As she had instructed, I held my tongue.
“What kind of contingency plans have been put in place to deal with their absence?”
There was no need for me to defer to Mary by word or gesture. She began speaking immediately, as if this was a play that had been rehearsed.
“We’re on top of it, Paul. Alan had been very engaged with Susan and Michael prior to their departures, and has been closely directing their staffs since then. He’s done an excellent job preparing them for added responsibility here in Miami.”
Paul turned towards Mary, allowing me to look at her fully. “Did you bring any additional staff to help with the logistics?”
“Excuse me?” Mary said. She picked up her pen and began tapping it on the pad.
“You’re down two senior staff positions. It sounds like you have confidence in Alan’s ability to provide the appropriate direction in their absence. But what about feet on the ground? This is a big conference with a lot of details to coordinate. Have you brought any additional staff from that office of yours to help make sure things go smoothly?”
Good question, I thought, and then suppressed a smile as Mary’s eyes flicked towards me and I saw the momentary indignation burning there. I knew for a fact that we hadn’t—that the travel, lodging and meal costs associated with Susan and Michael’s attendance had been one of the items she had put on the chopping block to help make up the deficit created by Eleanor’s exorbitant needs. We had even discussed it. I had tried to take advantage of the opportunity Paul was describing, thinking I could have used one or two extra sets of helping hands, but Mary had swiftly vetoed it.
“We discussed it,” Mary said, looking now at Paul but tipping her head in my direction to indicate who ‘we’ was. “But finally decided against it. Alan believes we are adequately staffed, and I trust his judgment. He believes that any additional people we might have brought would have been too inexperienced with this meeting to be of much help.”
Paul turned back to me. “Is that true, Alan? There’s no one at the home office who could have helped?”
From across the table I could see Mary staring at me, as if mentally reinforcing her pre-meeting instructions. Don’t contradict me. Even when you’re telling outright lies, Mary? Is that really what you expect me to do?
“Alan?”
Bitch. Of course that’s what she expected me to do.
“That’s right, Paul,” I said with a smile that moved my lips but didn’t reach my eyes. “We have a lot of confidence in our existing staff to rise to the challenge. They’re ready for it. It’s going to be a great meeting.”
There wasn’t much more I could say, but I tried to add as much nuance to my words as I could. I wanted my tone to convey shades of additional meaning. To Paul and the other members of the board, I hoped the tinge of smarminess I had used would communicate that the decision not to bring additional staff had not been mine, that regardless of what Mary said now the decision had been hers and had been made over my objection. And to Mary, I hoped she would hear that I clearly knew what she was doing, that by positioning this decision as mine I knew she was setting me up to take the blame if anything went wrong. I couldn’t do anything about it. Open defiance in front of the board would have been suicide, and she knew it. So I’d muddle through and be the good little soldier, but I wanted her to know I was onto her game.
Whether either shaded message got through I was never able to tell.
“Excellent,” Eleanor said. “Are there any other questions?”
A few moments of silence passed, several board members looking my way but no one speaking up.
“Then thank you, Alan, for your report and for your efforts on behalf of our organization. You’re welcome to stay as we move on to our next agenda item...”
I nodded my head and listened as fifteen people turned pages in their agenda books. I burned a stare into the side of Mary’s face, but she refused to make eye contact with me.
+ + +
“Dragons” is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. For more information, go here.
This post first appeared on Eric Lanke's blog, an association executive and author. You can follow him on Twitter @ericlanke or contact him at eric.lanke@gmail.com.
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http://lres.com/heres-why-amcs-need-to-pay-close-attention-to-looming-regulatory-changes/businessman-in-the-middle-of-a-labyrinth/
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