Page 13 of Brenna, Brat

“Poor guy. It was getting later and later and he was posting pissed-off updates the whole time in our work group chat,” he said. “He kept asking us for help.”

“What were you supposed to do?”

“I ended up going over there to drive him around and search,” he said, “because he was so cold and tired. It turned out that it wasn’t even at the airport and he had left it at one of the off-site lots, but he’d also forgotten which one.”

“You really went over there to help him?” I asked.

“I’m his boss and I’m the reason he has to travel so much that he forgot where he was,” Campbell said. “It seemed fair. But yes, the other people in the chat did think that I was crazy.”

“And now they’re probably thinking that they can get away with more.”

“What do you mean?”

“If you’re nice to people, too nice, they step all over you,” I warned him. That scenario had never happened to me, but I had examples. “In fashion school, there was this one guy who was a really, really fast sewer. It was like he had birds and elves making everything, so he had more time on his hands and he would offer to help other people. They totally took advantage of him, using his time but also his thread and pins, wearing out the blades on his rotary cutter, stuff like that. He turned very embittered and he stopped helping anyone at all.”

“You think my employees will take advantage of me now?”

“I think they’ll try and you should be careful that they don’t. You’re the boss and you have to act…but I’m sure you already know all this.”

He took a sip of wine. “These are things that I’ve heard before,” he agreed. “‘They’re you’re employees, not your friends.’ That’s my dad’s mantra. And my sister lives by it too,” he added. “I answer that I do things differently. I do things my own way.”

And I thought that it looked like he was doing things quite nicely. He was wearing another lovely suit, with the lapels in exactly the right proportion to his broad shoulders, and I enjoyed that he’d chosen a spread collar for his shirt and tied a full-Windsor knot to go with it. The man really knew how to dress for success and if he ran his department with the same polish and flair, then his dad and his sister should shut up. Still, if they felt they had to say it, then there was probably something wrong.

My family would have told me to be quiet, that his business issues were none of my business. I tried to remember that as I sipped my own wine, but then I said, “Is your way the right way? What does your boss tell you?”

“The name of my company is the Ghregg Bates Financial Group, so my father is also my boss,” he said, and now his job made more sense. I hadn’t totally understood how he would have a position with so much authority at his age, but I got it now.

“It’s a strange situation to be in,” he continued. “Lucky, but strange. When I started there, it was hard to be his son. My dad began as a bank teller and he worked his way up until he was in management, and then he went out on his own. He’s very smart and very driven. He’s a true success story.”

“Good for him.” Maybe I didn’t sound too impressed, as if I thought that his father hadn’t done enough. Actually, I just I didn’t care at all how accomplished he was.

“My sister is the same way,” Campbell continued. “If she wants something, she goes after it. She ran cross country and I know she was tripping those other kids on purpose.”

“Really?She did?”

He laughed, but he didn’t tell me no. “Neither of them have a lot of tolerance for people who don’t share their drive,” he answered instead. “They’re very tough managers.”

“But you’re not.”

“Sometimes I try to be that way,” he said. “I try to think of what they would do, but I find myself falling back into my own style. It’s more of what I call, ‘Leading a horse to water.’”

“That’s a management style? And I thought that the saying went, ‘You can lead a horse to water but you can’t make him drink,’” I said.

“Exactly,” he answered. “I lead everyone to the water and they have to drink on their own. My sister and my father lead the horse, yank the bridle, and force its nose beneath the surface.”

“That sounds like cruelty to animals.”

“It obviously works,” he pointed out. “Look at what my dad has accomplished, and my sister’s going to do a lot, too. She’s younger than I am and she’s already moving up fast. But yeah, they don’t have a lot of friends within the company.”

“Do you?”

“Yes,” he admitted. “I’m the captain of our softball team, by popular vote.”

I could see him as being popular. I bet he was in high school, for example, but not because he was the meanest like my sister Juliet was back then. He would have been well-liked because he was friendly and fun, and he drew people in. It certainly couldn’t have hurt that he was so attractive.

“I was also the captain of my hockey team in college, and my style worked then,” he told me. “I think it does in my job now, too. Things are going well.”

“Why did you make that face?” I asked immediately. The expression had only appeared for a second before it was gone, but I had seen worry. Concern.

---