Getting to town from the house on a Sunday was like looking for a signal on my phone while standing in my grandmother’s kitchen. I got a matatu and it stopped every five minutes for people to alight or get aboard.
When I finally made it up the office, it was nothing but sheer luck that had me going or the need to prove Nicole wrong and tell her to back off.
Martin was seated in the conference room. He got to his feet when I pushed the door open and approached the table.
“Thanks Marjorie. I know this is very last minute but I appreciate it,” he said.
“What do we have Martin? Can I go through those proposals?”
“We could eat first before the food gets cold and then work on this.”
“You can start. I will join you. I want to know what HR has as the rationale behind this whole budget cut.”
“Do you want to know it or do you want to know who wrote it?”
“Martin, start eating and let me read a few pages, is that okay?”
“For your information, Nicole was the one who tore the financial pages off your proposal, I arrived in your office in time and sat there just so no one could walk in and take something else.”
“Look, Martin, we have to work out a way of ensuring that our budget is honored and sustained by the funds the organization has and now that HR is gunning for our department, we have to remind them that our work is just as essential as theirs. I wouldn’t mind slashing their budget too, but that would be a bonus.”
“You are welcome Marjorie.”
“Look, I am sorry for seeing you as a culprit then, but the whole apology would come after I have read Nicole’s report.”