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Exactly, I thought, shocked that Gretel was making this point. I’d always assumed she was the enemy, or at least on the side of my enemies, which was why she was always so bloody annoying, telling me to change, to say this, that, and the other.

“And secondly,” she said without waiting for a response, “has anyone considered that time spent charming all these external stakeholders is a fucking waste of energy. That, actually, CEOs should spend their time focusing on the business? That builds real value, rather than the illusion of value.”

I couldn’t stop myself from grinning. Far from being the enemy, it seemed like Gretel was a kindred spirit.

“Well, you’re going to get no argument from me on either of those two points. But we have to deal with what we’ve got rather than what we’d like, as you would say. What’s the plan?” I asked.

She sighed. “I think I’d like to open up a bed and breakfast. And it wouldn’t even have to be in this country. I could set something up in America. Or Canada. I see myself by a lake in a wooden cabin, patchwork quilts on the bed. A frilly apron. I make great American pancakes. I could get a dog—do you know how long I’ve wanted a dog?” She glanced at me for a second as if she expected me to answer her. “But I work twenty hours a day. I’d have to outsource my dog to someone if I got one with this job. If I had a B&B, I could spend all day with them. I could get two. Maybe I’d even teach them to do tricks to impress the guests.” She looked wistfully into the middle distance, presumably imagining dancing dogs wearing patchwork coats.

The last couple of days, everything I’d thought was true had turned itself on its head. Madison and I clearly weren’t singing from the same hymn sheet, and the woman I dreaded meetings with apparently hated her job as much as I hated her job. All the same, I needed Gretel to be Gretel in this moment. She needed to break out of her fantasy and come back down to earth. We were in crisis mode. “While I think that sounds like a wonderful dream, I need you back on my planet, Gretel.”

She sighed and turned back to me. “What do you want to do?”

She was the one who was supposed to have all the ideas. “What are my options?” I asked, trying not to snap as she was clearly having a bad day too.

“Well, I can give you my professional opinion and I can give you a personal opinion.”

“I’ll take the professional option, please. That’s what I pay you for.”

“Okay,” she said, sounding exhausted. “We need to think internal—the board and employees—and we need to think external—the shareholders and press. Externally, we have you write some articles on how CEOs are becoming increasingly distant from the companies they run, but you’re a proponent for being in the weeds, looking after the customers and products and letting profits grow from there.” She sighed and continued in a flat, seen-it-all-before voice. “You talk about Astro’s performance a lot. You care about the company, spend time on the details because it’s the details that matter. And if you care, then you want to nurture and see things grow.”

I liked that idea. It turned Madison’s criticisms on their head and made them positives, qualities that should be valued in a CEO.

“Then internally,” she continued, “you get your strategy director and figure out what’s been put on the back burner—good ideas that have been forgotten about. You announce some new products. We need lots of internal energy and programs launched.”

“Okay, that sounds good. We’ll need to move quickly. No daydreaming about pancakes and dancing dogs.”

She stood. “I’ll get you through this, and then you’ll have my resignation,” she said matter-of-factly, as if she’d just said she was going to put in a holiday request form. “I don’t want to be juggling bullshit for the rest of my life. I need a break. I’m burned out from bullying and cajoling people into doing things I don’t believe in. This isn’t what I thought I’d end up doing when I started my career. I thought I’d be helping people communicate their message and instead I feel like my soul is being eaten away. Do you know my sister lives in Canada and I’ve not seen her in two years? I’ve been careering from one corporate crisis to another, never taking a break.” I shook my head but didn’t say anything. This wasn’t a two-way conversation. I’d thought she was kidding about the bed and breakfast, but perhaps it was more thought-out than the Pinterest fantasy I’d assumed it was. “None of this matters, Nathan. It’s all corporate nonsense. Family matters. People matter. Love matters.”


Tags: Louise Bay Romance