Congrats, Scott. At Exec Comm today, I announced my retirement. You will succeed me in the VP role. Will talk tomorrow in my office. Moffatt.
“Yes!” Scott yelled, pumping his fist in the air. “I knew it, I knew it!” He shoved his phone at Scott and said, “Read it and weep, Hammill.”
Immediately, more of his people began crowding around Scott. People eager to show their loyalty maneuvered to shake his hand and make obsequious compliments. Someone brought over a bottle of champagne and glasses for a toast, while another went to the sound board and switched the music to a raucous pop tune.
As the alcohol flowed and the impromptu party began to swing into motion, Peter forced his way back to Scott’s side and returned his smartphone. “Well, Scott,” he asked, “do you have any big changes in mind, or will you be continuing the course that Mr. Moffatt set?”
Scott gulped down his glass of champagne and then leaned toward Peter, his face taking on an ugly expression. “You better believe there are going to be changes. Moffatt was a fat old windbag who couldn’t sell pussy to the French Foreign Legion. I’m going to shake things up big time, starting with the Marketing group. Moffatt tolerated mediocrity way too long; now I’m going to start clearing out the dead wood. And in case you haven’t already guessed it, Peter, my philosophy is that the first place to look for rot in a department is at the top. So you might want to polish up your resume, understand?”
With that, he poked his finger into Peter’s chest, and for one heart-stopping moment I thought Peter was going to punch him out and ruin everything. But Peter kept his cool and merely said, “We’ll see, Scott, we’ll see.”
The group milling around Scott now drew him away from the confrontation, and we could clearly hear Scott’s voice over the noise: “Come on, everybody, it’s time to party. Drinks are on me!”
Peter turned and looked up to face the cameras he knew were hidden there. “Okay,” he said quietly, “I think we got exactly what we were hoping for. Tell all our people to get out of the hospitality suite now; I don’t want any confrontations.” Then he fiddled with the microphone and the sound shut off.
At the control desk Debby gave a few quick instructions, and we could see Peter’s people quietly exiting the suite. When the last of them were gone, she turned and gave me a fierce, triumphal look. “We did it!” she exclaimed. “When Moffatt and the other executives see that little outburst they’ll get a picture of the real Scott Benson, and I don’t think they’re going to like what they see!”
I felt like dancing; it seemed too good to be true. Yes, there might be some questions about how Scott came to believe he’d been promoted, but I felt that Mr. Moffatt and others would forget them in light of the terrible things Scott had just blurted out. Not only had he insulted Mr. Moffatt directly, but his attack on the Marketing function was an indirect insult as well. I knew for a fact that Mr. Moffatt thought highly of Peter’s team’s work and had given him favorable marks on his annual review. No, I felt sure those comments would seal Scott’s fate.
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