New Year's Day reservations -- Café Paris? (Too much $$?)

Tim O'Connell paused, pen hovering above his Driscoll Software notepad, to watch the snow swirling outside his window. Then, decisively, the ballpoint descended: More stamps.

The phone rang, and he reached for it, his mind still on his to-do list. What am I forgetting? "This is Tim O'Connell," he said. The conversation that followed drove all holiday thoughts from his mind.

Twenty minutes later he put the handset back in its cradle.

The Client That Stole Christmas

Chewing a large bite of turkey sandwich, Kristen Hammersmith pressed her palms together behind her back, relishing the series of cracks and pops between her shoulders. It had been a long year, and she'd spent too much of it hunched over this desk. She believed that Driscoll did important work -- building reliable, if expensive, software for businesses whose systems couldn't afford to fail -- but it could be stressful. Sometimes she had nightmares about a bug in the Driscoll system that operated airplane landing gear.

The past few months had seen more turmoil than usual. Kristen's boss, Alessandra Sandoval, had decamped to set up her own business as a technical consultant. The move had come as a relief, because Alessandra and Tim, the unit head, didn't exactly mesh. Tim was a classic software geek -- methodical, khaki-clad, and, unless you were cracking jokes about binary code, fairly reserved. He had been visibly uncomfortable with Alessandra's almost hackeresque persona: her sarcastic sense of humor, visible tattoos, and odd hours. Her Vespa was more likely to be in the company lot at 9:00 PM than at 9:00 AM. She could find bugs faster than anyone else in the company, but a reorg had left her reporting to Tim, and six months later she had announced she was leaving.

Tim had responded by promoting his next-best programmer -- Kristen -- to fill the position. And although Kristen was excited by the opportunity to be a manager, things had not gone as smoothly as she'd hoped. Alessandra's chartreuse cowboy boots had turned out to be very tough to fill.

Kristen was looking forward to a week off between Christmas and New Year's -- with her mother doing all the cooking -- as a much-needed chance to unwind. Most of her team was taking time off, too. So not a creature will be BlackBerrying, she thought with quiet glee. She took another bite of sandwich just as Tim poked his head around her cubicle wall.

"Kristen, I'm sorry to interrupt your lunch," he said, "but I need a quick word with you."

"Mmkay." She grabbed her notebook, hastily swallowed, and followed him back to his office.

Tim closed the door. "Remember Hybara Casinos?" he asked.

"Of course," she replied. "One of our biggest customers, until they decided last year that our software was too expensive."

"Well, they'd like to come back. Effective immediately."

This should have been good news, but Tim didn't sound pleased. "What's the catch?" Kristen said.

Tim leaned back against his desk and folded his arms across his chest. "Their new cheapo setup has been crashing, and the lost revenue is more than what they would have paid Driscoll for a system that doesn't fail. When it goes down, the slot machines don't work, the staff can't make or access any hotel reservations -- everything basically comes to a standstill. Even the bartenders rely on the system to keep track of the high rollers' favorite cocktails. Hybara is understandably upset, and wants the problem fixed in time to make a clean start in the new year."

He paused, and Kristen finished the thought for him: "Which is only two weeks away."

"You've seen our numbers this year," he said baldly. "People have a hard time investing in expensive systems in this economic climate. Driscoll needs this revenue." Tim usually displayed all the emotion of a mouse pad; Kristen was startled by his intensity now.

"And I'm assuming they want the bells and whistles they're accustomed to?" she said. "Meaning someone has to show up in person at their Barcelona headquarters?"

She'd meant it as a question, but Tim merely put on a grateful smile and moved to open his office door. "Thanks, Kristen. I knew you'd see the urgency."

"Wait a minute, Tim," Kristen said. "You told them yes? This type of project would normally take us six weeks! You told them we could do it in two?"

"Kristen," he replied gravely, "Hybara is crucial to us. I'm counting on you and your team to deliver. I'm sorry about the timing, but it is what it is. I know it's asking a lot, but without this revenue we may be looking at staff reductions next year."

Kristen tried to keep her voice even. "Given the timing, someone will have to be in Spain over the holidays -- in all likelihood, on Christmas Day. Plus, most of my team -- including me -- has vacation plans. What do I tell them?"

"This is going to be one of your first big challenges as the new team manager. Be clear, and be firm. Tell them that company policy is always that vacations are subject to business needs. I have faith in you, Kristen -- that's why I promoted you. Please get back to me by the end of the day."

He opened the door, and Kristen knew the discussion was over. She returned to her cube and her now-soggy sandwich, her appetite gone.