Talia
In an effort to bring more green spaces downtown (and acknowledgment of startup culture’s love for shared community spaces where people and ideas could freely mingle), the landlord of the building that housed Ideal Life had built a rooftop garden.
There were potted citrus trees from which you could pick fresh oranges and kumquats in the winter, and now, in summer, there was plenty of shade from the delicate green leaves of Japanese maples.
Sprinkled around the rooftop were groupings of tables and chairs for when teams from Ideal Life or BiomeLabs wanted to work outside, as well as benches for taking lunch breaks (or dinner breaks, as the case may be, since the employees of both companies worked long hours).
The other thing about being CEO was that you could hold your meetings outside whenever you pleased.
“Morning, boss,” Erin chirped, plopping down across the table with her laptop.
“Good morning. Thanks for agreeing to do your midsummer performance review up here.”
“It’s a nice change of pace. Oh, I haven’t seen Sam around. Not that he would come to the office, but, um, how is he? Have you two been hanging out more?”
Talia could feel the blood drain from her face. It took a second to remember that Erin didn’t know about the doomed kiss.
But it still felt like Erin had poured salt water into the open wound of Talia’s mortification, and Talia snapped. “Sam and I are not getting together, so I don’t want to hear about it again. Let’s focus on work when we’re at the office, huh?”
Erin flushed all the way from her neck to the tips of her ears.
“Um, of course. Sorry. I was just trying to speak up like you told me to, a-and I’m so sorry.
I crossed a line; I won’t do it again.” She flipped open her computer, hands poised on the keyboard, and swallowed hard, not looking at Talia.
“I’m ready. Tell me what I can improve.”
“Okay then,” Talia said, still simmering but trying to get back into CEO mode. “As before, I’m glad you’re open to improvement. I have several suggestions for you, all of which lead to raising your profile and garnering more respect.
“First, it’s nice that you think of the team and bring donuts and such to the office, but stop.
It paints you as a submissive girl. You are very intelligent and want people to respect you, rather than treat you as the kid who is here only for the summer.
So even though you’re still in college, start acting like you deserve to be treated as an equal, because you do.
“Second, you ought to invest in a more professional wardrobe. I know it’s a bit unfair to say that because most of us wear T-shirts and jeans to work, but since you’re young and you look even younger than your age, it would be helpful to your career if you dressed up a little more than we do.
Again, it’s a subtle way of demanding respect.
“And third, I’m happy to be your mentor.
But maybe make it a little less obvious to others, so it doesn’t come off as sycophantic or idolizing.
I’m not saying stop learning from me. I think it’s great that you’re absorbing everything like a sponge.
Women should support other women, of course, and I—”
Talia stopped talking, because Erin had stopped typing. Her face was bright red again, and she was holding herself very rigid.
Oh shit. Talia had taken her shame of kissing Sam out on Erin, and she’d been too harsh.
Erin was amazing, and Talia should have just said so. Who cares if Erin expressed her generous personality by bringing donuts? And as for what she wore, some of the clothes Talia had worn when she first started working had been pretty questionable, and she’d turned out fine.
“Erin, I’m sorry. I didn’t—”
“No, no, it’s okay,” she said, although it was apparent she was having to do some serious internal peptalking to hold herself together. It wasn’t easy to hear so many criticisms from a person you admire, especially when the meeting had begun with a dressing down.
Talia bit her lip, then touched her watch. “I really am sorry. Let me try that again.”
She turned the dial slowly backward, watching the scene in reverse as Erin’s face went from stiff and red to animated and normal-toned again, as she picked up her laptop and stood and walked backward to the elevator, until the doors opened and swallowed her inside.
“Do better,” Talia said under her breath.
The elevator chimed as the doors opened. Erin stepped out.
“Morning, boss!”
“Good morning,” Talia said quickly to head off any inquiries about Sam. “Thanks for agreeing to do your midsummer performance review up here. I’m on a tight schedule, so let’s dive right in.”
“Of course.” Erin sat down, flipped open her computer, and poised her hands on the keyboard. “Okay, I’m ready. Tell me what I can improve.”
Talia smiled, perhaps too hard. “You continue to impress me with your desire to push yourself. In the five weeks that you’ve been with us, you’ve already integrated so well with the team.”
Erin blushed. Her skin really did not hide how she was feeling.
“I appreciated your contributions at the recent marketing meeting,” Talia continued. “It’s smart to expand our audience to your generation, and I’d like to task you with brainstorming more ideas we could explore.”
“Oh my gosh, I would love to do that!” She blushed harder but then reined in her outward enthusiasm. “I mean, thank you, of course, I’d be happy to.”
“Okay then, great.”
Erin frowned. “That’s it?”
Talia smiled again. “Yes, you’re doing a wonderful job.”
“But what about improvements?”
“Don’t worry about it. Everyone enjoys having you around.”
“Oh, um, all right…” She closed her laptop and stood, hovering for a few more seconds before the awkward silence got her, and she walked back toward the elevator.
She stepped inside, but before the doors closed, she called out, “Talia, I’m really sorry if I did anything to disappoint you or to make you think that I couldn’t handle feedback.
I want you to know I will study this morning and figure out how I can improve so that next time, I’ll be more prepared. Thank you for your time.”
The elevator doors shut.
Ah, dammit. Talia had gone too far on the other side of the spectrum and babied Erin, which is not what she needed—or wanted—at all. Erin deserved better from Talia.
“Let’s try this once more.” She rewound the watch crown, until Erin was back where she’d started, emerging from the elevator for the first time.
“Morning, boss!”
Talia’s stomach lurched, even though she’d turned the clock back slowly. The external world around her had stopped spinning, but her internal one still seemed to be going.
She thought she’d outwitted the nausea recently after getting better with the watch, but the vague motion sickness seemed to be creeping back. That and the fatigue that was always just under the surface nowadays, no matter how many hours she slept.
“Um, good morning.” Talia held the table with both hands to steady herself. “I’m… on a tight… schedule… Let’s get started.”
Erin didn’t sit like she had in the previous two iterations. “Talia? Are you okay?”
“Yes, fine. I got weirdly light-headed.” She forced a smile. “Anyway, thanks for agreeing to do your midsummer performance review up here.”
“Of course. It’s a nice change of pace. But I don’t want to make you run late on your next meeting, so I’m ready.” She sat down across from Talia and flipped open her computer, hands poised on the keyboard. “Tell me what I can improve.”
“Well, first I want to say that you continue to impress me. But maybe that’s egotistical, because you remind me of myself at that age. All brainpower and ambition, wanting to change the world.”
Erin’s cheeks pinked. “Wow, thank you—what a compliment.”
“But I know that you want constructive criticism, and if I were in your position, I would ask for it as well. So I just have one suggestion for now, and that’s to pull back on bringing in treats to the office.
It’s kind of you and endears you to the rest of the team, but you’ll want to do it sparingly—that way they view you as a future equal who occasionally buys donuts for her colleagues, rather than, if you do it all the time, then it starts to cast you into a certain old-fashioned female stereotype and could be read as subservient.
I hate that, believe me, but it is something that can happen.
And take this with a grain of salt, because it’s just my very subjective opinion. ”
“Noted,” Erin said, typing everything Talia said word for word.
“And I can see what you’re saying. There is the world the way it should be, and there is the world the way it is.
You’re trying to help me succeed in the way the world currently is, even though we both hope for more change and equality in the future. ”
Talia nodded, even though that made the rooftop around her look wobbly, and her stomach flipped. Damn watch.
She paused for a second, then said, “Exactly. And your ability to consider both logic and emotion while keeping them separate when necessary will take you far. So that’s it. Just keep working on that brainstorming project. I look forward to what you come up with.”
Erin tilted her head. “Brainstorming project?”
“The one we just talked about.”
She started typing furiously and squinted at her computer, looking for something.
“I’m sorry, Talia, but… maybe I misfiled the email. I don’t see anything about a brainstorming project.”
Dammit again! Talia had mentioned it the first time—no, the second time?—they’d done this midsummer performance review, but she hadn’t explained it this third time, had she?
“No, Erin, it’s my fault—sorry. I’m feeling a little off this morning.
I must’ve thought about the project but not said it out loud.
I appreciated your ideas at the recent marketing meeting.
It’s smart to expand Ideal Life into your generation, and I’d like you to come up with more ideas we could explore. ”