Chapter 3 I Take the Literal High Ground
I TAKE THE LITERAL HIGH GROUND
First car?
brIDGET
I’ve got to admit, it’s hard to focus when someone’s staring daggers at you.
Cole’s gaze was palpable, like the bristles of a hairbrush pressing into my skin. I smiled serenely and straightened in my chair. It was John’s creaky leather monstrosity, and I’d sneaked a footstool into the CEO’s office so my feet would reach the floor.
Cole didn’t have that problem. In fact, his knees barely fit under the smaller desk he’d made the maintenance crew haul in here and set up on the other side of the large office. “Problem, Cole?”
He scowled. “I don’t know why you insisted on setting up in here. This is anything but productive.”
I took off my reading glasses and set them on my mahogany desk. The top shone with decades of lemon polish. “You also insisted on being in here, hence the sharing. Besides, Gina needs the COO’s office.”
“Does she?” He tilted his head. “I don’t know why it’s necessary to get someone into the role so fast. This is a ninety-day situation, remember? When you go back in three months, where will she go?”
Heat boiled under my skin. “You brought in Akil to replace you. How do you know you won’t be headed back to your old role?”
“I think we all know who’s going to win,” he said smugly.
“Ugh, spare me from the confidence of a mediocre white man,” I muttered.
“What was that?”
“Nothing.” I pushed back the oversized chair, shimmied until my toes touched the floor, then stood. I didn’t regret for a second not ceding the literal high ground to Cole. “Sorry to cut this scintillating conversation short, but I have an appointment with Gina.”
“I won’t lie and say I’ll miss your loud phone calls.”
“And I won’t miss your loud typing,” I said. He’d ordered the world’s clackiest keyboard just to annoy me, I was certain.
But I paused before I walked out the door.
As entertaining as bickering with him was, I had an agenda to accomplish.
“Cole.” I waited until he dragged his gaze from his screen to me.
“I have an idea I’d like to discuss with you later.
” I hated that I couldn’t simply implement my ideas like a real CEO, but we were in this together as reluctant partners.
“Do you have thirty minutes this afternoon?”
“I can give you fifteen at six.”
Shit, I’d hoped to duck out at five so I could be on time to dinner at my parents’ for once, but this was important. “Fine. See you then.”
I sailed out, stubbornly leaving the door open so he’d have to unwedge those long legs of his from under his desk to close it.
Outside our office, our admin, Finley, stood. “Bridget, do you have a minute?”
“Walk with me to Gina’s office.” My heels made a satisfying clicking sound as I marched down the hall to my former office. “Everything okay? Supporting both of us isn’t too much, is it?”
John’s old assistant retired when he did, and Cole insisted on promoting Finley to the most senior administrative assistant role.
I hadn’t argued. My former assistant supported Gina in operations, and she needed experienced help.
So far, Finley seemed capable and congenial, which was more than I could say for Cole.
“I had an idea I wanted to run by you,” they said. “The employees are a little confused about how you and Cole are going to share the CEO position…”
“We’ll explain more at the town hall next week.” I smiled at the associates we passed in the hall. All of them reported to me now, and the sense of power was intoxicating. As long as I could forget that they also reported to Cole.
“I think it would be good for them to learn about you two on a personal level. Say, with an interview series in the employee newsletter?”
“Oh.” I stopped walking, and so did they. “Tell me more.”
Their eyes widened with excitement. “I’ll ask you both questions about, like, life stuff so everyone can get to know you as people.”
“Life stuff?” Outside work, I didn’t have much of a life.
“Like, your first job and hobbies and stuff. What you’re grateful for. Stuff like that.”
“That doesn’t sound too bad,” I said, “as long as we can approve it before it goes in the newsletter.”
“Of course. And I know you’re busy, so I’ll only ask a few at a time. It’ll be a series. And people will see that you’re humans, and they’ll see how compatible you are.”
“Compatible?” I scoffed. We’d made it to my former office. “Hardly.”
They flashed me a knowing smile. “It’s going to be great. Thanks for agreeing to do it.”
As they turned, I said, “Wait. Did Cole agree to do it?”
Without turning back, they fluttered their fingers. “I’ll put it on your calendars.”
My stomach sank. This sounded like something Cole would fight me on. But that was a problem for tomorrow. I knocked on the doorframe. Gina looked up from her screen and grinned. “Hey there.”
I stepped into the office. “Is this still a good time?” Sun streamed through the window.
It would be shady and cool this afternoon, but I’d always basked in the morning sunlight in here.
The corner office had sun all day, and I had to pull the shades in the afternoon or risk sweating through my blouse.
“Of course. I’ve always got time for you.” She pushed her monitor to the side, giving me an unobstructed view of her smiling face and halo of twisted curls.
I shut the door and sat in the guest chair. It was strange to sit on this side of my old desk. “Settling in okay?” I nodded at a crate on the floor.
“I’ll unpack eventually. Right now, I’m trying to get my head around everything. I’ve got to admit, it’s a little overwhelming. I don’t know how you kept it all straight.”
“You’ll get it in time. For now, take it slow. Remember, I’m still around to help. What questions do you have for me?”
We talked through her most pressing concerns, and I reminded her of a few items she should treat with urgency. As she scribbled notes in her planner, she said, “Seriously, how did you do it all?”
“Seriously? I’m not sure you’re going to like the answer.” I snorted. “I have no life outside work. I make plans and cancel them. I only have friends because they’re the most stubborn women in the world, and my family hates my job with a passion.”
Gina’s smile faltered.
“But it’s worth it, you know?” I rushed to say. “The executive suite.” I waved my hand toward the sunny window. “The money. The prestige. Everyone knows you’ve made it. Doesn’t it feel great?”
“Sure,” she said. “But…your family and friends hated the job?”
I wrinkled my nose. “Yes, but you don’t have to do it the way I did. I was always aiming for CEO. If you’re satisfied here, you don’t have to do all the extra stuff I did to impress the board. And”—I chuckled—“I hope you’ll be satisfied in the COO job because I plan on being CEO for a long time.”
“Yeah? It’s probably easier with a co-CEO. That way, you can divide the work.”
“Right.” I drew out the word to imply how wrong she was. “We’re both trying too hard to impress everyone to let up on the gas. But that doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten how difficult it was to get here. I’ve got plans to make Apex more diverse.”
“You’re the first woman CEO, right?”
“Yes. And there’s never been a nonwhite or openly LGBTQ+ CEO, either.
Like I said, I plan on being in the role for a while, but I’d like to make the path to the executive suite more welcoming to members of marginalized communities.
I’d love to hear your perspective as a Black woman.
Let’s plan on discussing your thoughts in one of our upcoming one-on-ones. ”
She made a note. “Sounds great. Anything else?”
I took a deep breath. “I’m planning on arranging a tour of our various facilities starting next month. You know, meet-and-greets, sitting down with local leadership, getting a better understanding of life outside HQ.”
“That sounds amazing,” she said. “And exhausting.”
“It’s the job.” I shrugged. “Will you be able to keep an eye on things while I’m away?”
“Of course. Anything you need.”
“Thanks, Gina.”
There was a knock on the door.
“My next appointment,” she said apologetically. “Robert from logistics.”
Standing, I shook her hand. “I’m so excited to see what you do in this role.”
“Me too.” Her handshake was firm.
After greeting Robert, I walked back down the hall, feeling at least five foot five. I was making a difference, and I had plans to do so much more. Imagining my plans to turn Apex into a utopia where everyone felt welcome and recognized for their contributions, I grinned.
Until I remembered my officemate.
Iwalked into my parents’ kitchen in San Ramon that night to find my mother standing on tiptoe on the top step of her stepstool, straining to reach something in the upper cabinet.
I dropped my bag on the counter. “Mom, get down from there. I’ll get it.”
She dropped to her heels. “You’re not any taller than I am,” she said with a lift of her chin.
“No, but I don’t have osteoporosis, and I’m much less likely to break a hip if I fall. Come down.” Grumbling, she stepped down and waved her hands in a flourish toward the stool.
I toed off my heels and ascended the steps to peer into the cabinet of little-used serving items my parents had accumulated over the past thirty years. “What do you need?”
“The gravy boat.”
I spotted it behind the soup tureen. My upper cabinets were also difficult to reach and organized on a last-in, first-out basis instead of a more orderly pattern.
“Here.” I lowered the heavy tureen, and she took it from me.
Gripping the edge of the cabinet to stabilize myself, I leaned in to grasp the handle of the gravy boat.
I tugged it out and handed it to my mother.
Then, I took the soup bowl and replaced it in the cabinet, leaving space for the gravy boat, which she’d want in a few weeks at Thanksgiving.