Fat Charlie, the Archangel, sloped into the room.
“Have I got good news for you! A job that’ll pay you five thousand dollars a month.”
To his associates, Charlie was regarded more as a grey angel — if not a black one.
Imagine a super-sized Father Christmas: white hair and beard to match, a large white-toothed smile that never disappeared, even while he talked. Charlie possessed a booming voice that constantly erupted into laughter. He was a genius — yet everything he touched inevitably turned to ashes.
He was a realtor on a massive scale: a billion-dollar project in one hand and, “Have I got a bridge to sell you in Florida !” in the other. Charlie worked hand in glove with The Phantom, another genius — this one a professor out of Saskatchewan. Between them they exploited tax loopholes and dabbled in million-dollar currency swaps, hedging in gold bullion. Nothing ever worked. But they knew everyone in town who was anybody — unfortunately, that included the bad, if not the ugly.
I paused, waiting for the rest of Charlie’s offer. Don’t get me wrong, the lucre appealed to me more than I can ever say. Thanks to my incompetence in business, our home had been foreclosed and our possessions forfeited by bank guarantees. I was barely earning forty thousand a year to support a wife and two children aged ten and eight.
“A real estate mogul in Edmonton is looking for a Chief Financial Officer,” Charlie announced. “He’s almost as large as the company you managed before.”
Then the penny dropped.
“You’ll have to move to Edmonton.”
“Edmonton?” I almost screamed. “It’s three hundred miles north, in the middle of nowhere! We’ve lived in Calgary all our lives. All our friends — if not family — are here. My contacts are here.”
“I’m off to Edmonton for a day next week. Why don’t you join me? I’ll make the introduction.”
Charlie’s sweet talk coaxed me into accepting.
John Black owned an old heritage building, eight storeys high, surrounded by thirty- and forty-storey skyscrapers that looked about to topple over it. We took the rickety lift to the third floor, where we were met by Anne — a lady in her late sixties, immaculately dressed in haute couture and well spoken. She walked us through a large open space where staff were working at antique desks. Mr Black’s office had wide bay windows, but all you could see were the overpowering towers pressing in from every side.
Black was a runt of a man, slightly shorter than my five foot four, rat-like in his features — a long, thin, pointed nose and a gaunt, undernourished face.
“I’m replacing my current CFO,” he began. “I’ve heard great things about you. We’re expanding rapidly — a portfolio of forty buildings worth around a hundred million dollars today. It’ll double by next year.”
Somehow, I didn’t like the man. Nor was I keen on moving to Edmonton. I decided to go for broke.
“I’m really well settled in Calgary,” I said. “The job you’re proposing — to be responsible for the finances and operations of your company — isn’t a five-thousand-dollar-a-month job. It’s more like twenty.”
Charlie’s jaw fell. I’m sure he must have told Black of my downfall. Both thought they could pick me up for a song.
“At present, I’m consulting on several projects in Calgary. I can’t leave them for several months. If you’ve an experienced team, I can work for you two days a week, instructing them and reviewing financing and acquisitions at the same time. My fees will remain at twenty thousand a month. Let’s prepare an interim contract for three months on those terms. If we can work together, I’d accept a full-time post at a starting salary of two hundred and forty thousand per annum.”
Stick your neck out and you’ll be surprised at what you can get. With little hesitation, the man agreed to my terms. The contract was to last three months, with an option to convert to a full-time post.
My assignment in Edmonton lasted exactly that — three months. The current CFO remained until I decided whether to become a permanent member of staff. The problem wasn’t the employees. It was Black.
I was kept in the dark about the properties he was acquiring. His CFO handled all the financing. I was left with the mundane task of supervising accounting and cleaning up past transactions. All my enthusiasm melted away. My ideas and Calgary contacts were dismissed out of hand.
If all I was expected to be was a glorified manager, why had Black agreed to my exorbitant fee?
Our family was in crisis. I had been the only father at our children’s school to drop them off and pick them up daily — not a single day missed. No matter what, we always ate breakfast and supper together. All harmony at home was lost because of my travelling to Edmonton.
Without conferring with my wife, I handed in my notice at the end of three months.
Barely a week later, Black’s building sustained a major fire. All accounting records were destroyed. The whole operation was under investigation for money laundering. Black and his CFO were charged — the president placing all the blame on his hapless employee.
Black’s agreement to my outrageous contract became all too clear.
