Chapter 27
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
SOPHIE
“Sophie, thank you so much for taking the time to join us.” I sit up straight in my chair as the video call for my third interview connects and Luke Davis appears on the screen, along with two other men and absolutely zero women.
Because of course.
I’ve been impressed with almost everything about this company, but their lack of female representation in the C-suite is rage-inducing. If they offer me this job and I take it—emphasis on the if—my very first order of business is to pack that C-suite with all the estrogen it can hold.
Focusing my attention on the screen, I wince a little at my image in the tiny box on the bottom right.
The muggy, late-March rain means my hair is at least twice its normal size, and there is no possible way they aren’t picking up the clink of my bracelets over the speakers.
My lucky pink blazer seemed like a good idea when I got dressed this morning, but now I’m not so sure.
Would a woman who is CEO material wear an armload of bangles, refuse to put her hair up lest her curl definition suffer for the rest of the day, and wear a blazer so bright it can practically be seen from space?
Unlikely.
But I am constitutionally incapable of being anyone but who I am. It’s one of my favorite things about myself, so here we are.
I also may have overdone it just a little on the concealer, but when one is up all night fucking the hot football god of her dreams, abundant undereye coverage is practically a job requirement.
“It’s my pleasure,” I say, channeling the most professional version of myself which, let’s be honest, is not all that professional.
In addition to the hair, bangles, pink blazer, and eighty pounds of concealer I’m just now noticing could really use a better eye cream underneath, it feels like a professional interviewing for a CEO position would have fewer than four beverages on her desk and would enjoy a more sophisticated candy than jelly beans in weird flavors that are actually awesome.
I eye the bowl of candy in the corner of my desk and wonder if there’s a way to surreptitiously eat a handful while on camera.
Probably not. And then I wonder if taking this job means I would have to force myself to be less…
well…me. I don’t like that thought at all.
“I’m grateful for your consideration.” The words sound a little hollow, even to my own ears, and I give myself a quick mental pep talk because I am a badass bitch and I deserve this opportunity, even if I’m not completely sure I want it.
Luke nods. “Before we start, let me introduce everyone else on the call. Aidan Gray is our chief innovation officer. He leads the research teams and then liaises with George Sedgewick, the head of product development. They work together to turn the results of our research into tangible solutions to help schools enhance the value of the STEM education they provide.”
I nod, leaning slightly forward, excited butterflies suddenly flapping in my stomach.
I think whiplash and conflicting feelings are the words of the day.
“I’m familiar with your work. I can’t tell you how many of your white papers I’ve poured over to try to incorporate your findings into the work we do here at the foundation. ”
“I appreciate that,” Aidan says. “We’re great fans of your work as well.”
“Absolutely,” George says with a nod and a smile. “We’re grateful you’re considering the CEO position. I can’t image someone better suited to the role than you.”
Luke chuckles, even as the butterflies in my stomach are joined by a thousand of their friends. “George, we’re supposed to be giving her the impression we’re interviewing her to determine if she’s the right fit for the job.”
George rolls his eyes, leaning back in what looks like his desk chair. “That seems like a waste of her time and ours.”
“Agreed.” Aidan picks up a coffee mug, taking a sip.
“InspireSTEM is doing incredible work in the STEM education space, and we know a lot of that is because of you. The programs you have implemented both in your community and around the country are unmatched. The breadth of your expertise in the space, combined with our funding and research capabilities, would put MasterLab at the absolute forefront of STEM education.”
“I appreciate the kind words,” I say, just barely resisting the urge to pat myself on the back for the professionalism in my voice when what I really want to do is jump up and down and fist pump because fuck yeah, I did the thing. “My dad built the foundation, so I had good bones to work with.”
“No doubt,” Luke says. “I’m a great fan of your dad’s as well.”
“Just not his phone,” I say wryly.
Luke grins. “Maybe don’t tell him that.”
I shrug. “I think that really depends a whole lot on my particular mood the next time I see him.”
Shit.
I forgot for a second I was talking to a very important person and not a friend. This is why I can’t be trusted in professional spaces. My chaos brain is too unpredictable for this kind of thing.
But all three men laugh as if I’ve said the most hilarious thing in the world, and I wonder, not for the first time during this interview process, where the asshole behavior is.
Typically, when men in a technology-focused space talk to women, the mood is less jovial and far more Let us explain things to this woman who dares to walk among us thinking she knows things.
It’s…confusing. But also, I like it, even if I still think there should be at least eighty percent more women in this company.
“Listen, Sophie,” Luke says, propping his elbows on his desk and leaning forward.
“Since George has pretty much shattered the facade of any actual interview process, let me cut right to the chase. We want you. Badly. We want you to be the CEO of MasterLab and to take it to the next level and then every level after that. With you at the helm, we think there is no limit to what this company could be.”
The buzz in my ears and the weight suddenly sitting on my chest makes it hard to talk, but luckily, Luke plows on ahead, utterly oblivious to the fact that my chaos brain has entered the chat.
“We understand relocating to the Bay Area is a big decision, so we would like to invite you out here for a couple days to get the lay of the land, with the hopes that seeing it in person will help you make your choice. We are all flying out to Europe for a series of conferences for the next two weeks and then turning around almost immediately for the annual STEM educational symposium in Japan, but if you’re amenable and can make it work, we would love to fly you out on April ninth and have you spend the day in the office on the tenth.
You can meet our entire team, see the office… ”
Luke keeps talking, but I don’t hear the rest of what he says because the words April tenth keep pinging around in my brain.
These people, who are asking me to uproot my entire life and move across the country, are also asking me to come have a preview of what my new life would look like on the one day of the year when I have my most unbreakable plans.
Birthday night.
Tyler.
The thought of not being with Tyler on birthday night the very first year we’re together-together is so unacceptable to me I nearly turn down the offer on the spot.
Professional, Sophie, I remind myself. Be a motherfucking professional.
“I am so sorry.” I interrupt the three men talking amongst themselves. “April tenth is tricky. Is it possible to pick a different day?”
Any other day.
Literally any other single day would be better than that one.
“I’m so sorry,” Luke says. “We’re diving right into our busiest conference season right now, so if it’s not the tenth, it’ll have to wait until the end of May.
Candidly, that is far too long for me. It has to be the tenth.
I would be so appreciative if you could make it work.
” Luke’s tone of voice shows me, for the first time, exactly how he became one of the most successful founders in the world.
He says it all like he’s giving me a choice when I know the truth is there’s no choice at all.
If I want to be considered for this job, I have to agree.
I don’t know if I want it, but I also don’t want to shut the door on what could be the opportunity of a lifetime.
So, I take a deep breath, force a smile, and give him my answer.
“April tenth is fine.”
“Anyone home?” I call, letting myself into my parents’ house.
“In here!” my dad yells.
I drop my bags, kick off my shoes, and follow my dad’s voice and the unmistakable sounds of Fortnite up to the game room.
I laugh when I walk through the door and see my dad and my uncle Brian sitting on the edge of the couch, each with a controller in hand and eyes glued to the TV.
My dad’s youngest sister, my aunt Olivia, is sprawled out in one of the big squashy chairs, e-reader in hand.
When she sees me, she pops up with a grin and wraps me in a hug. “You’re here! Did we know you were coming?”
“Nah, I’m a surprise,” I say, flopping down on the chair next to her. “What are you doing here?”
“A client got the flu so she cancelled our meeting. The kids are in school, and Bry was coming over here to hang with your dad, so I tagged along. No work today?”
I shrug even though the answer is that I did, in fact, have work.
So much work. But after the interview, I couldn’t focus for shit.
I couldn’t stop thinking about not being with Tyler on birthday night for the first time in twenty years, and then what it would be like never to be with him on birthday night again because I live an entire country away from him.
That obviously led to a chaotic spiral extremely unconducive to reviewing the estimates for our first quarter numbers.