Me: Nervous about talking to Rebecca tomorrow.
Max: She’s more laid-back than most. I have no doubt you’ll figure out exactly the right thing to say.
Me: Thanks. I’ll give it my best shot. Going to get ready for bed.
Max: Good night, L.
Me: Good night, M.
I probably won’t sleep at all, though. Not when so much is riding on my meeting with Rebecca in the morning.
* * *
The Cartwright’s business offices are made for bustling. People in small cubicles are shouting instructions into phones. Said phones are ringing incessantly, as if no one knows how to answer a call. And a group of men are standing around an actual watercooler, as though they’re waiting for someone to capture their likenesses in a stock photo.
Rebecca marches out of her office and removes her eyeglasses in a very Devil Wears Prada way, complete with a hair flip that tells me she means to set me straight during this meeting. Out of the corner of my eye, I spy the men by the watercooler disperse in various directions. It’s as if Rebecca shouted Ready or not! and now everyone’s playing a game of hide-and-seek. This isn’t the Rebecca I’m used to, and the presence of this version of her doesn’t bode well for me.
“Lina,” she says. “Where’s Max?”
Whoa. It’s apparently not even nice to see me.
I stand and smooth my hands down my slacks. “I asked him to give us an opportunity to talk alone first.”
Rebecca crosses her arms over her chest, her brows snapping together as though the notion’s absurd. “You weren’t aiming to talk woman to woman, I hope.”
“No,” I say. “I was aiming to speak with you person to person.”
She sighs, drops her arms, and spins toward her office door. “Come with me, then.”
On the way there, she doesn’t engage with me at all. It’s alarming to see how drastically her demeanor has changed since she discovered Andrew and I were once a couple.
I enter her office and sit in the chair she’s gestured to. The decor in here is an extension of the hotel: nice but without any personal touches to mark it as Rebecca’s domain.
She sits at her desk, her hands clasped in front of her, and peers at me. “I have nothing to contribute to the conversation at the moment, so you might as well say whatever you think you need to say.”
I take a large enough breath that my chest rises, and then I do what I should have done from the beginning: tell the truth. “Andrew and I were engaged four years ago and due to be married three years ago. The wedding never happened. He decided he couldn’t go through with it. Fast-forward to the day you ushered Andrew and Max into the conference room. I hadn’t seen Max since the wedding, and I hadn’t seen Andrew since a week after the wedding. In all honesty, I panicked. I wanted to continue to impress you. Wanted you to think I was this uber-professional wedding planner who had it together and was unflappable. Basically, be the person that attracted your attention in the first place. But I was worried about how you would react, and more than that, how I would react to the stress of facing an unexpected and unwelcome reunion with my former fiancé. Now that I think about it, what would have been really impressive is if I had acknowledged Andrew as my ex-fiancé without showing any feelings whatsoever. You probably would have hired me on the spot.”
Rebecca’s face softens from granite to sandpaper—still rough but now suggesting some flexibility.
I press ahead. “I didn’t want you to see me get emotional, or worse, cry. And let me tell you”—I nod vigorously—“that was a real possibility. I hate the idea of appearing weak under any circumstances, and I cringe at the thought that someone would lose respect for me because of it. So I held out my hand and pretended not to know Andrew, and probably as a result of the shock or some sense of duty to me, Max and Andrew played along. It was not their idea, but once it was set in motion, I think they couldn’t figure out how to come clean in a way that would satisfy you. I’m sorry I dragged them into this, and I hope you don’t penalize them for my mistake.”
Rebecca sits back in her chair. “You don’t have to advocate for them. Your version of the events will suffice for now.”
I blow out my cheeks and meet her lukewarm gaze. “Well, in the interest of full disclosure, I should tell you that Max and I are seeing each other. And Andrew doesn’t know.”
Rebecca’s eyes widen and her jaw drops. “This is a fucking soap opera.”
Oh. She’s progressed to swear words. I’m in trouble now. “I don’t expect you to understand why I did what I did—”
“Lina, I understand,” she says calmly. “I don’t like what you did, but I do understand why you did it. You see, I’m the CEO of a hotel group founded by my grandfather. My concern has always been that people will think they can pull a fast one on me because I’m”—she rolls her eyes—“plainly in my position as a result of favoritism. I’m not imagining this, either. It’s happened so many times that I expect it. With you, though, I didn’t get the sense it would be an issue. I try hard not to build the kind of walls that would make it difficult to interact with my staff, but I do have my days. And today’s been that kind of day, in large part because I discovered that you and Andrew and Max had deceived me. People do what they need to do to protect themselves from the things they fear. I’m no different. Neither are you, apparently. So, yes, I get it, but I don’t like it. That’s about all I can tell you.”
It’s refreshing to speak with someone who not only relates to my experience but also doesn’t think the way I respond to it is entirely flawed. Protecting yourself from hurt doesn’t mean you’re broken. It means you’re human. I’m thankful to Max for helping me see that. Every person has to decide whether to lower their shield and when. Lowering it won’t happen with every person. I didn’t lower mine with Andrew. And sometimes the privilege of getting behind that shield needs to be earned. In the way Max earned a place behind mine. “It means a lot that you understand, even if you’re upset about it. I’ll at least walk away from this experience knowing my reaction wasn’t completely uncalled for. That’s something.” I rise from the seat and put out my hand. “It was great meeting you, and I wish you the best of luck with the search.”
Rebecca stares at my hand, her brows drawn together. “Not so fast, Lina. We’re not done here. I view this as part of your interview. I said I’d take everything into account when I make my decision, and that’s still the case.” She raises her chin and studies me. “Unless you want to withdraw your name from consideration?”
“Absolutely not,” I say without hesitation. “I’d still like to be considered. Thank you.”
She waves my thanks away. “Tell Max he’s off the hook. For now. As far as anyone’s concerned, I know nothing. I’ll leave it up to you to work things out with him and Andrew.”
I nod. “I appreciate the chance, Rebecca.”
“Frankly, I hope you wow me during the presentation,” she says. “Because this has been . . . a lot.”
I couldn’t agree more. But if Max and I focus on putting together a kick-ass presentation, we just might get what we want after all.