— Valentina Georgievna, you should start clearing out your office, — said the new director as he casually dropped a thin sheet of paper with no letterhead or number on the edge of my desk. — Svetlana is being transferred to your department, and it is time for you to gracefully bring your working years to an end.
The sheet silently slid across the wooden surface and stopped beside the pen I was holding.
Slowly, I took my glasses off the keyboard and looked at the director.
— Oleg Stanislavovich, I have not submitted a resignation letter. And I have not offered my office to anyone.
He smiled. It was the kind of smile behind which a decision had already been made, and he was simply waiting for others to accept it.
— You will submit one, — he said calmly. — At sixty-one, a person should know when it is time to make room for younger people.
On the other side of the glass wall, the department suddenly became quiet. My colleagues pretended to be working, but everyone had heard the conversation. The printer’s red error light was blinking, the completed contracts, monthly reports, and the remains of my morning coffee were still sitting on my desk.
He was already planning my departure.
There was only one thing he did not know.
I was not the kind of woman who could be pushed aside with a blank piece of paper.
— Svetlana will come to see you after lunch, — he continued, gesturing around the office. — You will hand over the contract records, reports, and approval procedures to her.
I raised the sheet of paper.
— Svetlana is our new employee?
For a moment, he remained silent.
— My wife, — he finally said proudly. — But soon she will become one of the department managers.
— I see, — I replied. — Then I have only one question. Based on what official decision?
His smile disappeared for a moment.
— Excuse me?
— Under what order are you appointing her? Where is the transfer document? Where is the approval from the personnel department? Where are the date, registration number, and signatures?
Oleg Stanislavovich leaned closer.
— Don’t cling so much to formalities. I am the director.
— A director can make many decisions, — I said quietly. — But even a director cannot rewrite the rules according to his own wishes.
At that moment, the door opened.
Raisa, my deputy, stood there. She was fifty-four years old, holding attendance sheets in her hands, and her face immediately showed that she sensed something was wrong.
— Valentina Georgievna, am I interrupting? — she asked.
— No, — the director answered before I could. — You came at the perfect time. You also need to know that there will be changes in the department.
Raisa looked at me.
— What changes?
— Starting Monday, you will help Svetlana with her training, — Oleg said. — And Valentina Georgievna can begin arranging matters related to her departure.
I placed the paper back on the desk.
— Raisa, please look at this document.
I handed it to her.
— This is not an order, — I said. — It is simply a wish someone wrote down on paper.
The director tapped his fingers nervously on the desk.
— Are you publicly questioning my authority now?
— No, — I replied. — On the contrary. I am trying to prevent you from losing it because of an improper decision.
Silence filled the room for several seconds.
— You have been here too long, — he finally said. — The department needs a new perspective.
I leaned back in my chair.
— Last year, our department completed 312 contracts without delays. We recovered more than two million rubles from disputed cases. Our employees’ error rate is one of the lowest at the entire facility.
— You cannot build the future based only on past achievements, — he snapped.
— But without past achievements, there is no trustworthy future, — I answered.
His expression hardened.
— Are you saying Svetlana is not qualified?
— I have not said anything about her personally, — I replied. — I am only saying that a leadership position should not be filled because of a family connection.
Raisa stood silently beside us.
Oleg noticed that he had a witness to the conversation.
— You may leave now, — he said coldly.
— Raisa stays, — I answered. — This is no longer a private conversation. It affects the entire department.
The director’s face became increasingly tense.
— I will hold a meeting this afternoon, — he announced loudly enough for everyone behind the glass wall to hear. — There I will announce the new management structure in front of everyone.
— Fine, — I said. — Then you can also explain the reasons in front of everyone.
— The reason is my decision.
— And decisions require documents.
He fell silent.
Then he looked away.
He had not expected this.
He thought he was facing an older employee who would simply lower her head and accept everything.
He did not know that I had worked at this company for thirty-eight years.
He did not know that I knew every rule and procedure.
And most importantly, he did not know that on that morning, they were not trying to remove me.
They were giving him the opportunity to expose himself.
When he walked out of the office, Raisa slowly closed the door behind him.
— Valentina Georgievna… does he really intend to bring his wife here?
— That is what he plans, — I said.
I took an envelope from the filing cabinet.
— But there is a huge difference between a plan and the law.
Raisa looked at the envelope.
— What is that?
I opened it.
Inside was an invitation from the headquarters for an official performance review meeting.
— The headquarters is watching how the new director begins his work, — I said.
Raisa slowly sat down.
— So he didn’t know he was being monitored?
I smiled.
— No.
For a moment, I looked at the closed door.
— And that is exactly why he made every mistake a leader can make.
