JAKE
Gabriella sat beside me in the back of Lewis’s car. We’d been in and out of meetings all day today, the majority of which went well, and she’d been right at my side staying involved, asking questions, and making suggestions. She had a good eye for revenue potential and creative solutions. I liked the way she saw things and, better yet, how she presented them to potential clients.
Not only did her ideas make room for more return on my investments, but they also seemed to help the clients picture their business in a successful, positive way. I’d received several emails from clients this past week agreeing to move forward with Gabriella’s ideas. When I had a chance, I intended to let her know how good of a job she was doing.
I wasn’t sure how to navigate that conversation. I was used to firing people, not commending them.
But she deserved the recognition.
While thumbing through the list of upcoming meetings with clients, I remembered a meeting I had with another business owner scheduled for this weekend. “Oh, before I forget, I need you to come to a meeting with me on Saturday. It’s not in the valley. It’s in Sacramento.”
“Sacramento? That’s two and a half hours away,” she said.
I wasn’t sure what the statement of fact was supposed to mean. “You’re right.”
“So… I’m going to spend two and a half hours in a car on the way there, two hours in a meeting, and two and a half hours back? All on my day off?”
“This client has a busy schedule. We have to make things work when we can.”
Her lips twitched and she looked down at her lap.
I waited for her to speak up. When she didn’t, I decided to continue. “Did you see the email I just sent you?”
Gabriella shook her head.
“I’ll need you to finish all those things and have everything prepared for when we start work on Monday morning.”
Her usually full lips pressed into a thin line, and she opened the tablet and began navigating to her inbox. She read the list I’d sent her a few minutes ago. Her right foot began bouncing, making the tablet resting on her knee dance. I could feel the whole car shaking when we came to a red light a few blocks from the office.
“Is everything alright?” I asked.
“Yes.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
What did it matter if things weren’t alright? Whatever was bothering her was none of my business anyway. It probably had nothing to do with work, and if it was work related, it was her responsibility to speak up, not mine to pull it out of her. She wasn’t a toddler. She was a full-grown woman who could speak her mind.
“Actually,” Gabriella said sharply as she twisted in her seat to face me, “no, it’s not alright. This is too much.”
“What is?”
She held the tablet up and gave me an incredulous stare. “This. You. Your expectations. I have a life outside of this job, you know, and if I’m never going to have time off to enjoy some time to myself, or God forbid do a load of laundry, then I don’t want this job anymore. It’s not worth it.”
I sighed. “What do you want, then? Another thirty thousand?”
She blinked rapidly, shook her head, and slumped back against the seat. “Thirty thousand dollars isn’t worth me giving up my entire life to help you get richer.”
“Don’t speak to me that way, Gabriella. I’m your boss, not your friend. I demand respect.”
“Then you have to give it,” she hissed. Her head snapped around and her eyes narrowed to slits as she glared at me. The sight reminded me of a feral cat, perched on a high ledge ready to attack. “You have been dismissive of me ever since you hired me. You walk past me every day at reception, and every day I say, ‘good morning,’ and every day you grunt and keep on walking. You want to lecture me about respect?” She scoffed and shook her head. “No, absolutely not. Lewis? Excuse me, Lewis? Yes, could you pull over here? I’d like to get out.”
Lewis put on his blinker and began switching lanes toward the right.
“Hold on just a second,” I said.
“No.” She thrust the tablet at me. “I’m done. You can find someone else to treat like your servant. It’s not going to be me. Working for you isn’t worth the money.”