THE PROBLEM
398 Words
Adrian Varen had been called arrogant in seven languages.
He considered six of the accusations unfair.
Nina Tavari had managed it without using the word.
She had simply looked at him.
That was somehow worse.
In the back of the car, he loosened his collar and opened the conference
program on his phone. He did not search for her biography. It was already
open.
Dr. Nina Tavari. Security researcher. Institutional culture, leadership,
conflict, intelligence cooperation.
He read the list of publications.
Then he closed it.
Opened it again.
“Problem?” Tomas asked from the front.
“No.”
There was, in fact, a problem.
Not her beauty. Beauty was common and usually boring after five
minutes.
Nina’s mind had moved quickly enough to make him work. She had listened to his argument, found the weakest assumption, and
attacked the assumption rather than the man. She had been playful about
it, too. No need to dominate the room. No visible desire to impress him.
Then she had laughed.
He had liked that most of all.
His phone rang.
Mara.
“We have approval for Meridian,” she said without greeting. “Four
months. Brussels wants an external academic on the core team.”
“Requirements?”
“Independent. Security-cleared where needed. Cross-cultural expertise.
Preferably someone who won’t be intimidated by senior officials.”
Adrian looked at Nina’s name.
“I have someone in mind.”
Mara was silent for a beat.
“You sound pleased.”
“I’m never pleased.”
“That’s why I mentioned it.”
He ended the call.
The city slid past the window.
He should choose someone else.
Someone predictable.
Someone who would not look at him across a panel table and make
him forget, briefly, that two hundred people were watching.
He opened a new email.
Dr. Tavari,
I would like to invite you to join an independent review examining
cross-institutional intelligence failures...
He deleted “I would like.”
Too personal.
Varen Strategic would like to invite you...
Worse.
He put the phone down.
Picked it up again.
At the hotel, Tomas glanced at him in the mirror.
“You’re still working?”
“Yes.”
“You were smiling.”
“I wasn’t.”
Tomas wisely said nothing.
Adrian sent the invitation at 19:42.
At 19:43 he regretted it.
At 19:44 he checked whether she had opened it.
She had.
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