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night. Those naive managers cared about their teams and in turn expected their people to follow them everywhere , for better or for worse. But he knew better than this. He knew all too well that the real success was rooted in something entirely different.
    “We have to prioritize,” Broomer broke the silence. “We can’t do everything at once.”
    Ross nodded.
    “Of course we can't. The question is how do we assign priorities?”
    They all slid back into silence.
    “Come on. Any suggestions? I know you have them. Take a look at the list.”
    Obediently, they all turned their heads towards the whiteboard.
    “The second one looks more important,” Harris said carefully.
    “I think the first one should stay on top,” immediately objected her neighbor.
    “And why is that?” the level of certainty in Harris’s tone jumped up noticeably. “Since when have they become a more important client?”
    “Since they started paying us good money.”
    “Aha . . . And nobody pays us,” responded Harris, her voice full of poisonous irony.
    “Others pay less and not as often.”
    “What are you talking about?” rushed in Jacobs. “We’ve got a government order this time. No question that it should go on top. At the moment it’s number four , for whatever reason.”
    “The government,” snorted Harris. “Give me a break. Those bureaucrats will flood us with their stupid paperwork, procedural requirements and extra inspections. It’s a hell of a job to satisfy them. We can finish all the others quicker than this one.”
    “You can finish three orders quicker than one? Su-u-ure . . .”
    “Yes, I can. I’ve worked with them.”
    “Who hasn’t?”
    “You, for instance.”
    “What?”
    “Never mind, never mind,” Ross said pacifyingly. “You are all great experts and I value your opinions. So, let’s see where this gets us.”
    He walked over to the whiteboard.
    “The first item remains unchanged, right? Does everybody agree? Done. The department’s order moves up to second place. Any concerns? No? Done. Now what do we do with the rest? We have to sort them as well. Ideas?”
    But they had already moved back into their silent mode. The moment was gone.
    That afternoon , while walking into the underground garage , Ross saw two office workers hunched together in front of him.
    “Same thing again—he just can’t make a damn call,” a familiar voice reached his ears mixed with a smell of cheap cigarettes. “It’d kill him to act just once like a man. Makes you wonder—”
    At this point, the man heard the steps and broke off.
    “See you tomorrow, Broomer,” Ross said affably. “Don’t work too hard.”
    He smiled his genial smile at the two smokers, the smile that lit up his full , round face, and went to his car—a stocky , solid figure in a dark quality raincoat. Let them gossip. True, he doesn’t like making decisions. True, at times his democratic approach lacks managerial resoluteness. Perhaps, it’s even an area of improvement for him. He isn’t perfect. But his management is always pleased. Always. No exceptions. He knows how to build management’s trust. He knows how to squeeze good results out of his teams and , even more importantly, how to present these results. He can take a mediocre team, quickly turn it into a productive one , and keep it as such for some time.
    Yes, his ways may result in some long-term damage, but in the short term there’s nothing but benefits. And although he had worked in four groups already and had been rising quickly, he ’d succeeded in making no enemies. And it was he, he and no one else, who was handpicked to participate in this extremely important course—a course that draws attention in very high places and that will undoubtedly propel his career even further.
     
    Paul
     
    “Any chance you can actually do some homework before bringing a proposal to me? Just for kicks . . . Or is the entire concept of thinking totally foreign to you? Why do you keep