Frank waved to the security guard as he parked his car near the building. He grabbed his briefcase and went directly through the entrance to the cafeteria for his coffee. It was Tuesday, gourmet pastry day, so he went straight for the good stuff. He always liked getting in early after a business trip so he could get a head start on the work he knew had piled up on his desk during his absence. Waving to a few staff members as he left, he went to his office, turned on the light, stopped, and stared. His office looked the same as it did when he left Friday night, except for the wastebasket that he had put near the door and that Marissa, the cleaning supervisor, had emptied and returned to its spot behind his desk.
“Hmmmm,” he muttered as he walked over to the credenza, placed his briefcase down, and opened it. He turned, and as he placed his coffee on the coaster on his desk, he saw a bright yellow thumb drive on the pile of papers he had left.
“I hear the meeting went very well,” said Dave from the doorway.
“Yes, it did. They liked the material,” said Frank, picking up the drive.
“That was a close one, wasn’t it,” said Dave, laughingly.
“Dave, come in. Let’s talk,” said Frank, deciding to take a firm approach with Dave; he wanted to get to the bottom of what had happened over the weekend. Dave took a seat across the desk and crossed his legs. Frank continued, holding the drive in his hand and waving it. “Dave, what happened on Sunday? I tried to reach you after I looked at the material you left for me. I was—”
“I was away that morning,” interrupted Dave. “When I got your message, I realized that something terrible had happened. I rushed to the office, hoping that this was just a simple mistake—that maybe you had dropped the thumb drive on your way out—and found it here,” Dave turned slightly and indicated the center of the carpet, “so I immediately realized what had happened. I knew you were already on the plane, so I decided to email it to you and John just in case you didn’t have your computer with you.”
Dave paused, and Frank turned the yellow thumb drive over in his hand, asking, “This is what you left me for the meeting?”
“Yes, Frank, why?” Dave looked puzzled. “Didn’t I do the right thing getting the file over to the meeting?”
Frank turned to his briefcase and pulled out the blue thumb drive he had found in the package from Dave on Friday. “Then what is this?” he asked.
“That’s my draft material. Blue is for drafts, yellow for final product,” said Dave matter-of-factly.
“Dave, there was nothing in the folder to indicate that there was a final product file, yellow or otherwise. Why did you give me the draft drive, when I . . .”
“Frank,” said Dave, getting serious, “I gave you both—it’s not my fault you dropped one on the way out. I did what I could to help you. It was a mistake, I understand, but I didn’t tell John about you leaving the file. I covered it up and things worked out, didn’t they?”
“Dave . . .” started Frank.
“Frank, I don’t know what you are implying here, but I gave you the draft material as well because I know you are a stickler for details and like to check everyone’s work. I figured you might want to see the background material, too.”
“Your draft came from a magazine!” said Frank, raising his voice slightly, and toughening up his tone.
“I know that,” dismissed Dave. “Don’t you remember pointing that article out to me as an example of an excellent presentation? I scanned it in and used it as a template for your presentation to the committee. I thought it was what you would want. Wasn’t it as good as the article you admired?”
Frank was perplexed. Dave’s story made sense. Yes, he had praised the story about the competitor and showed it to Dave.
“And the numbers and charts?”
“They were just placeholders until I got the data I was collecting. The final is the same format, but with our numbers, graphics, and pictures.” Dave paused, a serious expression crossing his face. “I wasn’t doing anything devious here, Frank, and I’m a bit disappointed that you’re suggesting I did.”
“I’m not suggesting that, Dave; I’m just trying to understand what happened.”
“Well, you said it yourself: you dropped the file on the way out. A simple mistake; nothing to make a federal case over. I was hoping to get a pat on the back for both a great presentation and saving the day. But . . .”
“The presentation was terrific, Dave. You did a great job, thanks. I really mean it. Everyone was impressed,” said Frank.
“I appreciate it, Frank, thanks. Do we have the go-ahead?”
“Yes, full steam ahead,” said Frank smiling. “Put together your recommendations for the team, and let’s meet tomorrow to discuss timing.”
“Yes, boss!” said Dave, giving a mock salute, but smiling broadly. Frank rose and extended his hand to Dave; they shook firmly and Dave left the office.
Frank worked all day and into the evening. At about 7:30 P.M., Frank called his wife to say he was on his way home. He sometimes felt that he had to make up the time he spent out of the office, but his wife knew that he just missed the excitement and enjoyed working late.
As he hung up, Pete, the cleaning person, entered the doorway. “Excuse me, Mr. Frank,” he said backing out into the hall.
“Oh, that’s okay, Pete, I’m just leaving. You can come in.” Frank packed his briefcase, grabbed his jacket from the back of the office door, and waved to Pete. He paused, thought a moment, and asked, “Is Marissa around tonight?”
“Yes,” said Pete. “She’s down the hall to the left.”
“Thanks, have a good evening,” said Frank as he headed down the hallway.
Discussion Questions