Dear friends!

I was very happy to share my story with you. I hope you liked it and believe me, this is just the beginning. Exciting things are happening in our company every day.

I love my job and I am getting busier and busier. My work is very important to me and I need to dedicate a lot of time to it to make sure everything is done in an excellent and timely fashion. Unfortunately, I won’t be able to write as often as I used to. However, I have good news – you can read my story in print. If you’d like to find out what happened to Vanessa, Bebbie, Rich, Linda, Caesar and other wonderful, dedicated, professional and a bit crazy people, ORDER MY BOOK:

http://www.amazon.com/I-Liza-CEO-Nina-Familiant/dp/0615828809/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1374528496&sr=8-1&keywords=Familiant

You can also hear about my book at: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hOBhwtuZDjo

I still promise to write. But work is work and it’s calling me!!!

Very truly yours,

Liza

The ghost stuck

“Busy day, eh?” I asked Linda when I returned to her desk, “Everyone has already gone home.”

“Oh, yeah . . . very busy. But I’m almost done, just need to finish something,” Linda sounded embarrassed, “I’ll just put these pushpins away and that’s it, I’ll be off too.” Suddenly, several pushpins jumped out of the plastic container back onto the desk.

“Not again!” Linda screamed, but when she caught my astonished look, she immediately explained: “I mean, my hands are shaking again. I’ve been so clumsy lately! It’s . . . it’s probably my allergies.”

“Linda,” I spoke firmly, “What’s going on?”

“Nothing! Nothing!” Linda seemed frightened and screamed even louder, “It’s just me, my allergies. I . . . I get them every season and my medication makes me so drowsy and shaky!”

“Stop it, Linda! Something has been going on in the office and you know it! What is it?”

“I don’t know anything!” Linda almost cried, “Please don’t ask me. I can’t…” she did not finish the sentence because all the pushpins in the container exploded in a multicolored fountain, then swung toward the wall like a swarm of bees and stuck into the cork bulletin board.

“A-a-a-a-ah!” Linda yelled at the top of her lungs, “I’m sorry! I have to run! I forgot I have a doctor’s appointment and it’s very urgent!” She grabbed her purse and rushed out of the office slamming the door so hard that the bulletin board flew off the wall onto the floor. Then, everything became quiet. I took a deep breath and made a few steps toward the bulletin board. When I bent down to pick it up, I stopped in bewilderment. The pushpins arranged in a word. It read Debra. 

On Monday, after an unsettling weekend filled with much thinking, I called Judy Maus, the director of human resources.

“Hi, Judy! May I take a look at the company’s records, like its history, previous projects, former employees, and all that?”

“Absolutely! You’ll have it in five minutes,” Judy was a girl of her word - exactly five minutes later I was turning pages of an abnormally thick binder filled with photos, reports, and newspaper clippings about AFM’s achievements in domestic and international business. After several dozen pages I came across a long table with three columns. The first column was titled “Name,” the second “Date,” and the third “Reason.” This was the list of all people who had ever worked for the Association of Fun Manufacturers and left it because they moved to a different city, went back to school, or changed their career path.

As I slowly turned the pages approaching the end of the table, I hoped to find what I was looking for.  Finally I reached the most recent record. Debra Krause. Yes!

Strangely enough, the box specifying the reason of Debra’s work termination was left blank. Whatever reason it was, Debra had not leave completely. She must have been still invisibly present at AFM and she was destabilizing everyone’s work. This had to stop! But how do you deal with someone’s non-material presence? You don’t ask a ghost to sign an employment termination letter, nor do you call the police. Something must have been holding the ghost of Debra at AFM. And I had to find out what it was.

Mystery continues

From that bizarre Monday, or the Day of The Supernatural Incident with Vanessa’s Coffee Mug Lid, as I named it, I began to watch my colleagues.

Within a few days, I noticed other strange little incidents that seemed to happen around the AFM office beyond people’s will or control. One day I saw Ben Stock from the accounting department study the online data reports on his computer (I observed him when I walked to the company copy machine as if to copy some documents, which I did not even need). While keeping his eyes on the computer screen, Ben was grabbing air with his right hand. Why? Because he was trying to reach for the phone, which was . . . not there. The phone was on Ben’s left! Did Ben just forget that he had moved the phone? Or did the phone get moved . . . just like the lid from Vanessa’s coffee mug?

On Wednesday, I noticed Dean Reynolds rotate in his comfortable new office chair. Surprisingly, the chair seemed to rotate on and on, and even faster and faster, while Dean looked rather scared as if he could not make the chair stop.

On Thursday, I saw how two books jumped off the bookshelf straight onto Caesar Rey’s head. And guess what? Caesar only scratched his head (which, I could swear, would have hurt after such a hit!), picked up the books, and carefully placed them back.

          Finally, on Friday of the Strangest Week, I caught a glimpse of Bebbie Darson standing perplexed in the middle of a whirlwind of statistics reports. Dozens and dozens of papers danced around Bebbie in a crazy circle for an entire minute before they quietly landed on the floor. That was unbelievable! Were these really some supernatural things or just incidents caused by a draft of air or a slammed door? What appears even more supernatural to me was that no one in the office seemed to notice anything at all and never complains. Was I going crazy?

“Have a nice weekend, Linda!” I said as I passed by Linda’s desk on the way to the front door.

“Thank you. You too,” Linda responded without looking as she was busy picking up multicolored pushpins scattered all over her desk and placing them in a plastic container. Halfway to the exit door, I stopped because suddenly remembered that Linda was also picking up pushpins yesterday when I walked into the office in the morning, and the day before yesterday, and on Tuesday, and on Monday too! How could Linda, the tidiest and the most organized person in the office, be making a daily mess on her own desk?! Something was definitely supernatural here.

Jumping lid

There was no one in our lunch room except for Vanessa Duncan, director of the department of international trade shows. When she saw me, Vanessa slightly nodded her perfect little head in an unemotional morning greeting. Small talk was too much to expect from “the pretty department,” especially because Vanessa was busy at the lunch room counter. She poured freshly brewed coffee into a portable mug that had a picture of a little kitten on it and the inscription “Pur-r-r-fect!” Then Vanessa added milk, perfectly white like her own complexion. She sprinkled some low-calorie sugar on top, stirred everything carefully with a plastic straw, and took a tiny sip. Satisfied with the taste, Vanessa reached out for the coffee mug lid that was lying on the counter. To my astonishment, Vanessa failed to pick up the lid because – I could have sworn! - it slightly moved away from Vanessa’s delicate hand. When Vanessa attempted to grab the lid again, it leaped on the counter toward the kitchen sink like a frog.

I gasped.

“What is it?” Vanessa turned and looked at me as if nothing happened.

“It . . . it surely can jump!” I answered in confusion. I saw what happened with my own eyes!!! Didn't Vanessa?

“What can jump? I don’t understand,” Vanessa’s looked calm and indifferent like a doll.

“The lid! Your coffee mug lid,” I felt even more baffled.

“The lid? It’s not even mine. Excuse me, my morning meeting starts in two minutes,” Vanessa answered in a firm voice and walked out of the lunch room.

As soon as she was gone, the coffee mug lid jumped up in the air, made a couple of loops around the lunch room, and plunged into the trash bin.

It took me a while before I came to my senses. Wow! Supernatural phenomena have been happening in my own company in broad daylight! But even more shocking was Vanessa’s strange reaction when she seemed to deliberately pretend that everything was just fine. How come she didn't see the lid from her coffee mug jump like a frog chased by a pack of raccoons?! I could not stop thinking about this incident all when I returned to the office.

I was wondering if something like that has already happened to Vanessa before. Did she know that would happen again? Was she prepared? Did that happen to anyone else at AFM? Oh, my God, there were too many questions. I didn't have time for any supernatural things because I was so busy with work (phone calls, productions charts, webinars, etc.) But that little mystery was very exciting and I needed find out what it was.”

The return / Возвращение

I did become a great CEO (sorry for bragging but it’s true!). I carefully studied every single document left behind by Mr. Glater’s folders, I learned everything about AFM products and services, partner projects, domestic and international operations, data resources, and fluctuations of global market trends. I made sure that all projects that had been stalled since Mr. Glater’s resignation were resumed, all lost contacts were reestablished, all data reports were submitted on time, and all press releases continued to be published with no interruption.

I also learned (that was probably my biggest achievement!) how to calm the ever-furious Rich Gustavsson, how to make Claire Starkoff skip the idle talk and get to the point, and how to keep Caesar Rey focused on an assigned task and not let him become carried away by millions of new ideas.

Finally, I handled the toughest of all the business projects – I talked to Mom. Mom was so astonished by my news that her first response consisted only of a few words: “Oh, Liza! Oh, no! Oh, my God! Oh, Liza!” This lasted for quite a while; so I began to wonder how long I would have to wait until Mom would actually begin to speak.

“Okay, Liza,” Mom finally took a deep breath, “I don’t know. On the one hand, I can’t believe you did something like that. It’s great. It’s very mature of you. I’m proud of having such a wonderful caring daughter! But on the other hand, this feels wrong! You are no longer at school and you’ve lied about my job relocation - nothing good starts with a lie!”

“Mom, please!!!” I pleaded, “I don’t know what else I can say to convince you. But I feel it – everything will be just great! Do you hear me?! Just great!” I meant this “just great” with all my voice, and looks, and heart, and mind. And maybe if Mom had not been so exhausted by the never-ending job search and all the interviews she had in the past several months, she would have refused to follow my plan. But this time, she gave in. And the president of AFM did I remain!

Now I was completely and totally happy. Well, maybe almost completely and totally. There was one tiny speck of discomfort that constantly distracted me from everyday work – those strange sounds in the server room I had heard on my first day at AFM. Despite the assurance from the information technology director that “everything is just top-notch with their equipment,” I heard the chilling “Sh-sh-sh-s-s-s-d-d-d-d-s-s-s-s-d-d-d-d-r-r-r-r!” every time I would pass by the server room. Sometimes it was just an incomprehensible mishmash of noises, but sometimes I seemed to catch a part of a word or maybe even a piece of some mysterious message: “Dr-r-r-r-ah-drah-drah! Br-r-r-r-ah-brah-brah! D-d-d-dr-r-r-r-rah-ah-ah!”

It was just ridiculous – the sounds were on my mind ALL THE TIME. Once I even caught myself thinking about them in the middle of an executive meeting on marketing strategies. So, I made a pledge. I said to myself: “Dear Liza, next time, when you feel like thinking about these silly sounds, just . . . just name all the partner companies AFM ever worked with; or, all the products AFM ever advertised, promoted, and manufactured!” Surprisingly, the pledge worked. I managed to keep the strange “r-r-r-rahs” and “dr-r-r-rahs” off my mind for almost a week until one morning when I walked into the lunch room for a cup of coffee…

Strange "homework"

I got off the city bus just at the moment when the school bus turned onto their street. Phew! Perfect timing! No suspicion would be raised on Mom’s part. As soon as I entered the house (Mom was sorting something out in the basement and didn’t see me enter), I rushed to my room to slip into leggings and a T-shirt. I was afraid that this time Mom might actually ask about Liza’s black- and-white professional outfit.

“Is everything all right? You’re so quiet today,” Mom was surprised that I  was not telling school news at the dinner table. “Mom! I wish you knew that I can barely move my tongue after all those ‘nicetomeetyous’! I can’t even think straight! The introduction to Mr. Caesar Rey alone could have given anyone a splitting headache! Please don’t ask me about school today!” I pleaded in my thoughts, but smiled and replied: “Oh, yes, Mom. Everything is okay. It’s my homework I’ve been thinking about. They gave us so much today.” As always, Mom looked at me lovingly and said: “I’m sure you’ll handle it. You are such a smart girl.” Then she added in a whisper: “And maybe you’ll end up with a great job someday.” She looked sad and I felt sorry for her again but I knew that I would make her happier very soon.

Before bedtime, I decided not to watch my usual half an hour of the evening TV shows. Instead, I got glued to my computer with on a notepad.

“I guess they really keep kids busy at school nowadays. Well, I’m not sure too much homework is a good thing. Children should have some time for fun and rest,” Mom said when she saw me work. I was lucky that Mom did not come up and peek over my shoulder at her “homework.” It looked rather peculiar. Instead of math assignments and spelling exercises, the notepad contained a listing of strange words in caps. Next to each word I wrote an explanation she found online on various business sites:

“CEO - Chief Executive Officer, a person in charge of an organization like a corporation, company, or agency; PTO - Paid Time Off, like a vacation, holiday, or sick leave; bylaws - a set of rules adopted by a company for governing its own affairs; board of directors - a group of elected or appointed members who jointly oversee the activities of company or organization….”

Within a couple of hours, I had a much better understanding of the bizarre business language Linda had spoken to me all day. The mystery of the BEC convention remained unsolved as no online dictionary provided an explanation for this strange combination of letters.

After two hours of intensive “homework” I realized that I was terribly tired.

My last wish for the evening was to find enough strength to slip into my pajamas and to crawl into bed. As I was finally lying under my favorite cozy blanket, a colorful kaleidoscope continued to whirl before my closed eyes. I heard friendly greetings, fragments of conversations, applause, phones ringing, and Caesar’s apologies. Ouch! That spot on my head was still aching!

At last, the flurry of colors and sounds became slower, and slower, and slower until it stopped completely and got switched off like a string of Christmas lights. Exhausted, I was falling asleep with a big smile – tomorrow I would wake up the new chief executive officer of the Association of Fun Manufacturers!

“You’ll make a great CEO, Liza! Sweet dreams!” I said to myself in a whisper.

“Sh-sh-sh-s-s-s-d-d-d-d-s-s-s-s-d-d-d-d-r-r-r-r!” The recollection of the odd sounds in the server room suddenly came to my mind (it was such a bad time – I was so tired!)

“Go away!” I hushed, turned over on my side, and no longer heard anything.

Ready to fight

To distract myself from bad feelings, I looked at the laptop on my desk. It was on stand-by mode with tiny bright dots sparkling all over the dark screen. I touched a key on the keyboard. The computer woke up and opened a pretty screen-saver, a picture of a snow-covered house surrounded by white frosty trees. It looked really beautiful.  A little bit out of season but still a nice view.

The picture reminded me of our own house in winter, covered with thick layers of snow, nearly buried under a huge white mass as if ready to crumble. Lately, however, our house was about to crumble under the financial burden which befell on my mom and me and which we tried to overcome until this very day.

“That’s it! I am going to fight for it!” I thought decidedly and even slammed my fist on the desk, “I’m going to succeed because I have this incredible chance to run my own company. And no matter what grown-ups would say, there is always a place for magic in life!”

I touched another key on the keyboard. A password box popped up on the screen. “You will have to pick your own password, Miss Klim. It will be known exclusively to you,” I remembered Linda’s instructions and did not ponder a bit. “LIFEISMAGIC” I typed quickly and pushed the “enter” key.

Now I felt that I was definitely ready to get down to Mr. Glater’s files with no fear or hesitation. “Wait!” There was something else I had to take care of right away. I opened a blank electronic page and began to type: “Due to my recent promotion and job transfer to a different company location, my daughter, Liza Klim, will no longer be attending Greenlane Middle School….” Actually, the school was not a bad place at all. I did enjoy it despite occasional boring math assignments, Bella the tattletale, and grilled cheese sandwiches in the cafeteria. I knew I would even miss school, well, when I wouldn’t be too busy with work, of course.  I continued on with my note: “It was an honor to have my daughter at your school. Liza will always cherish the memories of the wonderful times she had at Greenlane Middle,” I added at the end of the letter and signed it: Jennifer Klim, CEO. Wow, if only Mom had even known! I printed this sentimental message on the company stationary paper and put in a pretty envelope with the AFM logo. Now, the door to my previous life was shut tight.