SNAP: The World Unfolds

CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

I didn’t get a vote.

I may have been upper management, but this was a vampire decision, not a SNAP decision.

The upshot was that SNAP would announce I was taking a temporary position as International Planning Editor, a cobbled-up title that meant nothing but covered my absence from any of the offices in the States.  I could and would visit our locations in Europe and South America.  They would even set up meetings for me in Asia and Australia, scouting for possible expansions.

But my home base wasn’t going to be my condo in Santa Monica.  I would be headquartered in Hungary, at the Baron’s castle.

“We truly think this will only be temporary,” Jean-Louis said earnestly.  “We’re not at war with the Huszars, but this last stunt has upped the ante.  We, I, want you someplace that’s defensible by our usual methods and that has privacy.”

“That’s rich,” I snorted, “given what we do for a living.”

“”You’re right.  There’s a lot of information we’ll put out to the public.  We actually believe that by pouring out tons of facts and information, most of the other media will get bored with us.  It’s worked in the past.”  Chaz had been in charge of much of this disinformation, and was good at it.  “The key is having ‘facts’ that are real or plausible and putting spin on them.  What we won’t announce, is where your headquarters will be.”

“And when you travel, now it’ll always be on Viper,” Mira added. “You won’t have to worry about overweight luggage or anything again.”  She’d been silent up till now.  I wondered how much input she’d had into the discussion and the decision.

“We’ve talked about this all morning,” she continued.  “This isn’t a decision made lightly or by one person.  We’ve had skirmishes with the Huszars for centuries, and we see this as just one more.  The difference is that today the whole world can find out our business.  What Jean-Louis and the Baron are attempting will bring the Huszars into that business.  That way, they’ll be vulnerable to the scrutiny as well.  We’re hoping this will neutralize them.”

Damn, there it was again.  That vampire ability to anticipate my thoughts and head them off before I could voice them.  There was no doubt that Mira, quiet though she may have been, was Kandesky family leadership.

The next hour was spent in going over the details.  I’d just come back from Hungary, so the timing of my reassignment made sense.  There’d have to be internal memos, press releases, interviews.  This would probably take a couple of days to finish up.

And there was the little matter of my personal belongings.  I wouldn’t have to sell my condo, the family would make the mortgage payments and have someone come in weekly to clean.  I could take two days to cull through things and choose what I wanted to take with me.  It felt like I was going into some exotic exile.  I didn’t know when, if ever I’d see my old life again.

Finally, a big question was Jazz.

“What can I tell her?” I asked.  “We’ve developed a close working relationship and I depend on her for a lot.”

“Tell her you’re going to be working remote for a while,” Chaz answered.  “This move won’t relieve you of all responsibility here at SNAP.  You can stay in daily contact with her.  In fact, we’ll probably promote her.  She’ll be working more independently.  We can even give her an assistant.”

I nodded.  They’d thought of everything, which proved again that centuries of life, and years of business, had given them power to anticipate every move.  Good god, I wouldn’t want to play chess with any of them.

The interoffice memo went out late that afternoon.  The content meeting and the taping were bittersweet.  Most people congratulated me on my promotion.  Working remote, traveling around the world, meeting with celebs, was the stuff of dreams, even though it meant giving up life in the States for a while. 

I took the congrats and good wishes as omens that this would be positive and temporary, as Jean-Louis had promised.  And when I told Jazz about her new responsibilities, she was initially skeptical.  “I haven’t had your experience.  There’s so much I wanted to learn from you.  What if I mess up?”

“You won’t mess up,” I told her.  “You’re bright, you have a longer history than I do at SNAP, you’re tuned into the office politics way more than I am.  And if you ever have any questions, I’m only going to be a phone call or email away—allowing for time differences!” I laughed.  “You’ll do fine.  And this is only temporary.  We’re both going to get promotions if we carry this out as well as I know we can.”  Both of us believed my pep talk.