We're alone again. In the meditation room. Again.
"Mac—"
"I should check on Brad." I back toward the door. "Make sure he's not anxiety-journaling about losing his cushion."
"We need to talk about this."
"About Keith's poetry slam? I think HR has it covered."
"About us."
"There is no us." I grip my tablet like a shield. "There's just a CEO and his corporate culture consultant. Who occasionally get trapped in meditation rooms during power outages. And almost..."
"Kiss?"
"Have professional disagreements about workplace dynamics."
He steps closer, and suddenly I'm back in last night's moment, with lightning flashing and tension crackling and?—
My phone buzzes again. Another text from Roberto: "The baby shower is next month. Katie would love for you to come."
The universe, apparently, has a twisted sense of humor.
"I have to go." I practically flee the room. "Reports to write. Cultures to consult. Revolutions to prevent."
I make it to my office before collapsing into my chair. On my desk, someone (probably Lucia) has left a coffee and a note: "Nonna says to remind you - 'Il cuore vuole ciò che vuole.' The heart wants what it wants. PS: She's stress-cooking again. Expect lasagna."
I pull up my blog draft, staring at the blank screen. Usually, I'd have something snarky to say about corporate poetry slams or management's fear of creative expression.
Instead, I find myself writing:
"TECH TRUTH: Sometimes the hardest part of disrupting a system is realizing you might be part of it. Also, never underestimate a developer with a beret and a cause. #CorporatePoetry #RevolutionaryDebates #WhoNeedsTherapyWhenYouHaveWhitman"
I hit post before I can overthink it.
My phone buzzes one more time. Not Roberto, thankfully, but Lucia:
"Nonna wants to know if your handsome boss likes his lasagna with or without meat. Also, she's been watching rom-coms for 'research' and keeps muttering about 'destiny' in Italian."
I turn off my phone.
Some battles – like almost-kisses and Italian grandmothers on a mission – are better fought another day.
12
THE BACHELOR PACT PROBLEMS
ALEX
Here's something they don't teach you at Stanford Business School: how to handle the realization that your most disruptive hire might be the best decision you've ever made.
"The Christmas Gala planning is ahead of schedule," Emma reports, laying out the morning briefing. "Ms. Gallo's changes to the vendor selection process saved us fifteen percent of the budget, and her idea to showcase employee initiatives has boosted RSVPs by thirty percent."
I scan the numbers, impressed despite myself. With the gala just six weeks away, we should be deep in last-minute chaos. Instead, Mac's systematic approach has everything running with military precision.
"What about the employee feedback program?"
"Retention rates are up twenty percent since implementation." Emma pulls up another report. "Even accounting for Keith's... unique approach to corporate criticism, overall job satisfaction has improved significantly."