“I’m well aware of what I signed up for withyou, Eleanor.” I say, taking pleasure in the way her eyes spark when I say her full name. I use her momentary distraction to adjust myself in my chair, grateful for the giant slab of a desk that’s presently hiding my crotch. “My point remains. People are already asking questions.”
“What people?”
“Rictor was in here twice. Wanted to know how well I vetted the new guy. He’s not sure you fit the mold.”
“The Rictor mold?Please. I can do Stephen ‘Dude-bro’ Rictor all day long.” Ellie clears her throat and reclines in the chair, casually tossing one arm over the back. “Hey, bruh! You catch the game this weekend? Killer, am I right? Dude, you see the new waitress at Blue Bay? She’s tight as hell. I’m totally gonna hit that. And seriously, I got the hookup on these biotech stocks, bruh. You in it to win it? No? Fine, but don’t come crying to me when you’re caught with your dick in the wind.”
I raise an eyebrow, barely holding back a laugh.
She pins me with a narrow look. “You know I’m right.”
“Twice in the span of five minutes,” I tease. “Must be a new record.”
This gets a grin, but it doesn’t last long.
“I’m not walking away from this, Jack.” Ellie’s smile fades. “Not for Rictor or anyone else. It’s a good story. And it’s important.”
“I understand. I wouldn’t have agreed to this if I didn’t believe it was important. But—”
“Seventeen.” She crosses her arms over her chest, refusing to give an inch. “That’s how many instances of overt sexism I’ve already witnessed today.”
I lean forward, all traces of our earlier jokes gone. “I’m listening.”
“Aside from the ‘locker room’ talk?” Ellie pulls a small steno pad from her inside coat pocket, flipping past several pages of notes. “We have men expecting high-level female colleagues to fetch their coffee, taking credit for women’s work and ideas, and allowing clients to treat female brokers as if they’re about as qualified as the potted plants in the break room.”
“Really?” My gut clenches. S&H is supposed to be different. A fair, fun, and challenging place to work. That’s how Ryan and I always envisioned it—foreveryemployee, regardless of salary or title.
How did we get so far out of the loop on this?
Looking around my posh office, I have my answer. I may as well be in a damn ivory tower. I’m insulated from the day-to-day here, from all but the senior staff. We don’t even share the same break room.
“As far as I’m concerned—and I know Ryan feels the same way—none of that is acceptable,” I say. “But generalizations and observations aren’t enough. Not for your article, and not for HR to start making real changes.” I gesture toward her notebook. “What else have you got?”
“You want hard data? Listen to this: not a single female broker makes an equivalent salary to her male counterparts here, even after adjusting the data to account for different experience levels and client loads.”
I frown. “That…can’t be right. That’s not how our compensation package works. It’s a merit-based system that rewards high performers with commissions and bonuses.”
“What about the workers who are never given the chance to prove their merit? The ones who are passed over for the plum accounts, or given fewer opportunities for continuing education? And look at your hiring practices.” Ellie glances back at her notes, dragging her slim finger down the page. “Four out of five management positions in the last two years have gone to men. A lot of well-qualified female candidates weren’t even granted interviews.”
I consider her words, embarrassed that I can’t explain away any of this. “I had no idea. I mean, I should have. It just never occurred to me to check.”
She shrugs. “Welcome to the seedy underbelly of the patriarchy.”
“I don’t—”
We’re interrupted by a knock on the door, followed by Hannah peeking her head in. “Sorry for the intrusion, but you have a meeting in Conference B in five minutes.”
“Thanks, Hannah. I’ll be right there.”
“Great.” Hannah smiles. “I’ve prepped your notes—they’re out here on my desk. Would you like a coffee or anything?”
I open my mouth to take her up on the offer, but a bolt of guilt lances my gut.
Is Hannah compensated fairly? Am I doing enough to ensure she has access to the same advancement opportunities as her male peers? Have I ever said or done anything to make her feel insignificant or undervalued?
“No thanks,” I tell her. “I’m good. Oh, and Hannah? You’re doing an excellent job. We should set up a time next week to talk about your goals.”
“My…goals?” Hannah scrunches up her nose with a laugh. “As in, life goals? Dinner goals? Squad goals?”