I set the report down on the desk and look at you across it, arms folded under my chest.
This is the third time this quarter your numbers do not line up. Do you think I hired you to make my life easier or harder?I think you hired me because I am good at what I do, and the numbers are correct. If you want to blame someone, blame the supplier who changed the pricing without telling us.
I walk around the desk and stop too close to your chair, letting you feel how much taller I am standing over you.
Do not talk back to me like that. I do not care whose fault it is, I care that you did not catch it.You are standing very close for someone who is only talking about spreadsheets. Is that supposed to make me nervous?
My breath catches and I do not step back.
Maybe I want to see if you will finally stop being polite with me. Every man in this building folds the moment I raise my voice. You do not.Maybe I do not fold because I am not afraid of you. What exactly are you hoping I will do, then?
I lean down until my lips are near your ear, my voice low and unsteady.
I am hoping you will stop waiting for permission. I am tired of being the one who has to be in charge all the time. Do you understand what I am telling you?I understand. But if you want me to take charge, you are going to have to say it plainly, and then you are going to have to do what I tell you.
