“Will do,” he agrees nervously.
Mags gets up from her chair, and I could swear that the front of her blouse just got a little tighter from her nipples hardening at what, to anyone else, would be a thoroughly scarring experience.
I’m starting to think she’s just into guys that look like her grandfather.
In her defense, though, I’ve seen her grandfather and he made me forget that Sean Connery ever existed.
Ah, Mr. Young, if only I were 50 years older…
When I get back to my office, I pop a couple of ibuprofen and look over my personal schedule. It’s grim.
I don’t know if people aren’t calling because they’re trying to be respectful of my recovery, or whether they think me unfit. Either way, this can’t keep happening.
Sooner or later, people are going to start asking why Grace Miller hasn’t been pulling her weight, and I don’t think telling them that I’m being shut out is going to be an excuse that changes anything for the better.
Even if my coworkers and my bosses are trying to do the nice thing, if this doesn’t change, it’s going to cost me my job.
I pick up the phone.
“John Parker.”
“Hey, John, it’s Grace Miller. I was hoping you had a minute,” I say.
“Sure thing, Grace. What’s up?”
“I just wanted to inform you that I’m going to go ahead and pull the trigger with Mitch this afternoon, and I wanted to give you another chance to come on board,” I tell him.
What I’m doing right now is picking a fight, but it’s a fight that needs to happen. If I’m not stirring the pot, I’m getting lost in the background, and there’s no quicker, more effective way of marking my territory than directly challenging my own boss.
“I really think you’ll want to reconsider that,” John says. “I know you’ve been going through a bit of a time recently, but that’s no reason to roll out a scorched earth policy.”
“This has nothing to do with what happened,” I tell him. “You know what my position is and what it has been for a long time, and frankly, I don’t see the point in waiting when we’re losing every single day.”
“We’re not losing, Grace,” he says. “Listen, I’ve got a meeting. We’ll discuss this later.”
“Fine,” I tell him. “I’ll let you know how my meeting with Mitch goes.”
“You will not.”
“Fine, I won’t tell you how-”
“You’re not going above my head, Grace,” he says. “I know this is your pet project, but I swear to God, if you go behind my back and defy me, you’re going to wish you never got that second interview.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” I tell him.
“Grace,” he says again.
“It’s going to come up, John. That much is out of my hands now. I’ll pull my punches a bit, but I’m not just going to sit on this forever. I’ve been cultivating relationships in some of our more prominent potential markets, and we both know how long those relationships last without plenty of cash flow.”
“We’ll discuss it later,” he says. “For now, bring it up if you have to, but as far as anyone else knows, you’re just spitballing. Noncommittal is the word.”
“I’m not sure that it’s the proper word, but I get it, John,” I answer.
“You know what?” he asks. “I think maybe it’s time you go back to calling me Mr. Parker.”
I hang up the phone and smile.
To the untrained eye, it might appear that I just landed on my boss’s shit list. The truth, on the other hand, is that I’ve been on my boss’s shit list pretty much since I started working here, and it’s from that position that I’ve always been able to affect the greatest amount of change.