3. The Big Boss
I sighed deeplybefore knocking on the door labeled with a simple, elegant plaque: Joanne “Jo” Harper, Chief Executive Officer. My boss, Jo, was an enigma wrapped in a tie-dye scarf. Before her transformation, she was a driven executive, laser-focused and slightly obsessive about her ex-wife and the minutiae of our tech projects. But then came the wellness retreat in Palm Springs two months ago, and everything about her had changed—dramatically.
As I pushed open the door, I entered what once was a stark, modern office but had now morphed into something resembling a cross between a Zen retreat and a hacker’s dream den. Jo sat cross-legged on a large cushion, her desk replaced by a low, round table adorned with various crystals and a small, bubbling fountain.
“Ah, Rachel, enter the realm of peace and productivity!” Jo greeted with a flourish of her hand, her voice more melodic than I remembered. Her hair, once a pixie cut, now was growing out with streaks of purple and silver, framing her face in a wild style.
“Jo, I, uh?—”
“Call me Johara. I’ve embraced my spirit name fully now,” she interrupted with a serene smile, her kaleidoscope glasses sparkling in the soft light of her office.
“Right, Johara,” I corrected myself, trying not to trip over the new name. “You wanted to see me?”
“Indeed, my cosmic coder!” Jo—Johara—gestured grandly towards another cushion across from her. “Come, join me on the pillow pit. Let’s align our energies for the conversation ahead.”
I obliged, gingerly lowering myself onto the plush cushion. The office smelled faintly of sandalwood and sage, a far cry from the usual sterile scent of technology and coffee.
“I understand there’s been a bit of a… celestial mix-up,” she said, referring to the email debacle with a light chuckle. “But truly, Rachel, I see it as a universe’s nudge. You have such a vivid imagination! It’s exactly what we need more of around here.”
My cheeks warmed at the mention of my mishap. “Thanks, Jo—I mean, Johara. It was definitely an accident, though. I didn’t mean for everyone to read… that.”
Jo waved a hand dismissively, the colorful bracelets around her wrist clinking musically. “My dear, let’s not fret over the waves we make. Sometimes they crash, sometimes they caress, but always they change the shore. And now, I believe it’s time we channel your creative torrents into something groundbreaking.”
Her eyes were gleaming. “Have you considered turning your narrative talents towards enhancing our storytelling within the games? Imagine—a gaming experience enriched by the depths of human emotion and conflict, penned by none other than our own resident bard!”
The idea, though unexpected, sparked a flicker of excitement within me. “I… hadn’t considered that, but it sounds incredible, Jo.”
“Johara,” she corrected gently, a smile playing on her lips.
“Right, Johara,” I repeated, my mind already racing with possibilities.
“And now, tell me,” Jo continued, her tone dipping into a conspiratorial whisper, “who is this mysterious muse behind your fiery prose? Surely such passion is drawn from a well of deep personal inspiration?”
I laughed nervously, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. “It’s just fiction, Jo. Inspired by… you know, various things.”
“Oh, don’t be shy. You can tell me.” She winked.
At least she isn’t firing me, I thought, relieved but wary as I ventured carefully into the truth. “Someone I game with inspired it,” I confessed, glancing at Jo’s intrigued expression. “Actually, he inspired my VR project too. It’s a therapy game, and he’s a veteran and amputee. We talked a lot when he was adjusting to life after his injury. I came up with the game idea because of him. He’s actually pretty well-known in the gaming community.”
As I cautiously shared about the inspiration behind my VR project, Jo’s eyes lit up with that unmistakable sparkle of intrigue. “A genuine hero, then! And is this hero of yours more than just a muse for your creative endeavors?” she prodded with a grin.
“Not exactly. He doesn’t even know who I am outside of the game,” I admitted, the weight of my hidden identity pressing uncomfortably between us.
Her enthusiasm was undimmed by my hesitance. “Oh, we must change that, Rachel! Imagine the synergy if he could actually collaborate on your project in person!”
Still hesitant, I added, “Actually, there’s a gaming expo next week. We were both invited. I thought it might be a good chance to network and maybe discuss the project more formally.”
Clapping her hands, Jo’s bracelets jangled like a wind chime caught in a storm. “Perfect! You must go, Rachel. This is the universe nudging you forward!”
“But, Jo, I’m not sure?—”
“Johara, dear. No buts! Life is about taking leaps. And who knows?” She winked conspiratorially. “Maybe this will bring you closer in more ways than one.”
“Johara, he doesn’t know…” I tried again, my voice trailing off as I met her expectant look.
Jo’s eyes gleamed with fervor as she looked across her cluttered table. “Tell me more about these VR aspects of your project, Rachel. How are you going to pitch it to the gaming companies? I’m envisioning something groundbreaking,” she urged, tapping a polished nail on a tablet filled with mind maps and inspirational quotes.
I took a deep breath, gathering my thoughts. “Well, the core idea is to blend physical and emotional therapy within a gaming framework. We’re looking to develop a collection of VR games that could assist individuals with various challenges—from PTSD to physical disabilities like amputations.”
Jo nodded, her interest piqued. “Go on,” she prompted, her gaze intense behind her oversized glasses.
“The first game we’re focusing on targets PTSD treatment. It’s about creating safe, controlled environments where players can engage in scenarios that help them practice coping mechanisms,” I explained, my hands animated as I described the concept. “Imagine integrating breathing exercises into a familiar game setting, turning anxiety-inducing situations into moments of triumph.”
Jo’s expression brightened. “Yes, yes! That’s brilliant, Rachel! And these games—could they potentially tie into popular titles? Like, say, using the framework of established games but modifying them to serve our therapeutic goals?”
“Exactly,” I affirmed, encouraged by her enthusiasm. “Take Heroes Quest, for instance. We could adapt it into a VR version where challenges are specifically designed to help players develop real-world skills, like managing stress or overcoming fears, all within the context of their beloved game worlds.”
Jo paced back and forth, her movements as animated as her speech. “You have a lovely pitch. Integrating therapeutic elements into VR gaming could change the way we approach mental health treatment. And with someone like your friend, this veteran hero, as a collaborator, the authenticity and impact could be immense.”
I nodded. “That’s the plan. I think by collaborating directly with individuals who can benefit from these games, we can create something truly special. Something that’s not only fun but also genuinely helpful.”
Jo then clapped excitedly. “Then it’s settled, Rachel! You’ll go to this expo, meet your mysterious gaming partner, and bring him into the fold. We need his insight as a consultant for this project.”
I blinked, taken aback by her assertiveness. “Wait, what? Jo, I can’t just?—”
She waved off my concerns with a flourish as she continued to pace. “You said he’s a popular gamer, right? And he has firsthand experience with the challenges we’re addressing. It’s perfect.”
“But, Johara, I haven’t even met him in person,” I protested, feeling the anxiety bubble up. “We’ve only interacted online. And he doesn’t know who I really am.”
Jo stopped pacing and turned to face me, her expression firm and commanding. “Rachel, this is a golden opportunity. Not just for you, but for TherTech. You’re telling me he’s inspired your work; now let him be a part of it. Bring him on board.”
“I… I don’t even know if he’d be interested,” I stammered, trying to gather my thoughts under her intense gaze.
“Nonsense,” she scoffed, brushing aside my doubts as if they were nothing but a bit of dust on her vibrant tie-dye sleeve. “Who wouldn’t jump at the chance to be involved in something this wonderful? Besides, it’s high time you two met. Think of the synergy, the collaboration!”
“Jo, it’s complicated,” I said. “Our relationship, if you can call it that, is built on a persona I’ve created. What if he’s disappointed by the reality?”
Jo’s eyes locked onto mine with an unyielding intensity. “Rachel, darling, you sell yourself too short. This man, he knows you, even if it’s just the online version. And from what you’ve just told me, I can assume that he respects and admires that person. You’re going to this expo, and you’re going to show him—and everyone else—just how incredible you are, both online and off.”
“But—”
“No buts!” Jo interrupted, her voice echoing slightly in her eclectically decorated office. “This isn’t just about meeting a potential collaborator. It’s about taking a step forward in your career, in your life. Trust yourself. And trust him.”
Jo’s eyes twinkled with something akin to glee as she clapped her hands together. “Excellent! But first, a little exercise to boost your confidence, fresh from my self-healing trip to Palm Springs. Stand up, Rachel.”
Hesitantly, I stood, watching as Jo positioned herself in front of me, her hands held out as if she were about to conduct an orchestra.
“Now, place your hands on your stomach. Feel your aura,” she instructed, demonstrating with an exaggerated pressing of her palms against her colorful kaftan.
I complied, feeling slightly ridiculous as I mimicked her actions.
“Good, good. Now, repeat after me,” she said, closing her eyes and taking a deep, dramatic breath. “I am strong.”
I paused, the corners of my mouth twitching upwards. “I am strong,” I echoed, my voice lacking her conviction.
“Louder, Rachel. Let the universe hear you!” Jo encouraged.
“I am strong!” I said, louder this time, my cheeks warming.
“Excellent! Now, I can slay the universe.”
“I can slay the universe,” I repeated, getting into the spirit of it, despite the absurdity.
Jo opened one eye and peeked at me, nodding approvingly. Then, with a straight face, she added her personal mantra, “I am not obsessed with my ex-wife.”
I froze, my hands still pressed against my stomach. “Um, am I supposed to say that too?”
Jo burst into laughter, her earlier solemnity dissolving into chuckles. “No, no, that one’s just for me. But see? Doesn’t it feel good to affirm your strengths?”
I couldn’t help but laugh along, the tension easing slightly. “It does, even if it feels silly.”
“Silly can be therapeutic, Rachel. Never underestimate the power of declaring your intentions to the cosmos. Now, go to that expo, meet your knight in shining armor, and remember, you are a force to be reckoned with!”
As I left her office, I couldn’t shake the smile from my face. Jo’s methods might be unconventional, and her new age hippie transformation a bit much-er than before, but her heart was in the right place. Maybe, just maybe, this trip could be the start of something transformative, not just for my career but for my personal life as well.