“Our nice little bank is doomed, too. It’s hardly going to be wiped out, though. It has some decent stuffing to it, so it’ll probably be swallowed and digested,” concluded Ignatiy Savelievich.
“What about the leader banks? What banks are those?” Nina asked, with thoughts of her own career at the back of her mind.
“Thinking of changing jobs?” responded the old man who was seeing through her. “And about time, too, dear. There’s no point in your rotting away here.”
He named a few promising banks to her and commented specially on Gradbank. “That bank has a very strong director. I don’t know him personally, but I’ve heard a lot about him.”
Shortly after, Nina heard the word ‘Gradbank’ again – this time, not as a meaningless sound, but as the name of a hostile and, as she was soon to find out, irresistible force.
Nina’s father received a phone call from Gradstroiinvest, a subsidiary of Gradbank. The caller told Yevgeniy Borisovich that they were interested in one of his projects and asked for a meeting. The project in question was not a success – it did not work out as expected and was a burden to the company – so Yevgeniy Borisovich would not mind sharing it with someone else.
A meeting was arranged at a regional industry fair where Gradstroiinvest had a booth. Nina was going to visit the fair herself, for her own reasons. When her father heard of that, he suddenly told her about the meeting and asked her to take part in it. “Since you’re going to be there anyway…” For once, after a long shut-off period, he was admitting her to his affairs; that made Nina happy even if his request did not mean anything and was just something that had slipped his tongue.
They were received by two men in their mid-thirties. One of them introduced himself as a vice-director of Gradstroiinvest while the other was presented as the company’s chief accountant. Yevgeniy Borisovich and Nina where invited into a cubicle of an office. Here, they were seated at a table, on chairs of metal tubes and plastic, and offered coffee. The table was shaky, the cups were of disposable kind, but the coffee was surprisingly good.
“I make it myself,” said the young vice-director who noticed Nina’s reaction. “I have a recipe of my own.”
Through the thin walls, the racket of the multi-voiced fair was coming, so they had to bend forward, head to head, like conspirators in order to hear each other.
They went on with the introductions. The vice-director’ name was Konstantin Ilyich.
“I’m still not comfortable with this patronymic thing,” he smiled pleasantly. “I’d rather be called Konstantin, or even just Kostya, but alas, I’ve got my status to think about…”
Nina’s father was looking intently at him.
“Excuse me, have we possibly met before?”
The young man laughed, “I was wondering whether you’d remember me or not. I used to work under you, Yevgeniy Borisovich. I came to your trust right after college. I only worked for one year, though…”
Nina’s father was excited and pleased. “Yes, that’s it, I remember! Who could have thought? Isn’t it a small world?”
Konstantin smiled politely but avoided plunging into recollections. Obviously, he was not going to waste his own or other people’s time.
Konstantin set about discussing the project and started with a very precise and essential question which showed that he had done his homework and possessed the necessary information. If the purpose of the question was to get Nina’s father talking, then it struck home. Yevgeniy Borisovich started answering it, then got carried away and went into expounding his views on the technology and management of such projects in general.
Konstantin and his accountant listened carefully. The accountant was keeping in the background, not uttering a word, while Konstantin was encouraging Yevgeniy Borisovich with brief, appropriate questions.
The young leaders of Gradstroiinvest made a good impression on Nina. She especially liked Konstantin – he was clearly smart and intelligent. He knew how to be polite without fawning and how to maintain his dignity without being rude.
Following her recently acquired habit, Nina rated him up as a man, and the rating was surprisingly high. But the same female view let her notice something strange – namely, that the vice-director was not taking any interest in her, Nina. There was none of that elementary, unconscious response which was bound to arise in a man confined in a narrow cubicle with a young woman.
“Can they be gay?” Nina thought, glancing at Konstantin and his colleague, and answered herself, “No, it’s not that.”
Nina did not consider herself a psychologist. She possessed a keen intuition, but it worked mainly in the area of finance rather than in human relations. Still, this time, the whole situation was suddenly crystal-clear to her. While he was listening politely to her father’s wordy discourse, pouring him coffee and throwing in appropriate questions, Konstantin was in fact completely focused and alert as a chess-player at the board or a boxer on the ring. He was probing his opponent, preparing to deal a blow.
Totally unaware of that, Nina’s father went on airing his views. Watching this disparity, Nina had a vague sensation of danger, though she had no idea where the danger could come from.
Nina’s father checked himself finally. “Look at me, chattering away so! You have some business to discuss with me, don’t you? Now, what’s that business about? I’m all attention. You don’t wish, by any chance, to participate in this project?” he let out his ulterior thought.
Konstantin and his accountant exchanged glances.
“We do,” Konstantin said after a brief pause. “We wish to participate in this project and all the rest of your projects.”
Nina’s father choked over a gulp of coffee. “Wh-what did you say? … How do you mean?”
Konstantin started to speak, still watching Nina’s father closely.
“Yevgeniy Borisovich, please forgive us for this little mystification. We just wanted to get to know you personally. An understandable desire considering that we are going to work together. You see, we intend to purchase your company, with all its projects.”
He spoke calmly, as if it were some routine, uncomplicated matter which was quite transparent to both sides. Nina’s father who had nearly spilled all his coffee over himself finally regained control of the cup, put it aside, and wiping himself with a handkerchief, tried to say something but Konstantin would not let him do that.
“You know that your industry is undergoing concentration,” Konstantin said and cited some examples of mergers and acquisitions that had taken place over the past year.
“Yes, but…” Nina’s father tried to object, but Konstantin would not be put off.
“The time of small, independent companies is passing,” he went on. “There are obvious advantages to concentration – access to financial resources, stronger bidding positions, wholesale supply of materials at attractive prices… You know all that perfectly well yourself. By joining our organization your company will flourish; it will reveal its strong sides while retaining a great deal of independence.”
As he spoke, Konstantin never took his eyes off the face of Nina’s father, clearly reading what was going on in the mind of the older man.
“You’re probably going to be concerned with the staff issue. We are ready to keep most of the company’s current employees – on your recommendation, Yevgeniy Borisovich. And, if you wish, you can remain director of the company. Of course, you will no longer have absolute power, but we’ll be only happy to rely on your expertise in technical matters. We value you highly as a specialist, believe me.”