Adjustment of Attitude

Part 2

My stomach grumbles. It matches my current mood. I'm fighting to survive at work when I should be celebrating the millions my project is saving. In my personal life, my household takes this moment to turn against me too. What in the world am I doing wrong to lose all my edges at once? My mind berates my internally, swinging wildly from one calm emotion to outrage and back again.

The clack of the keyboard continues to resonate on the walls. My fingers pound out my frustration, as I put together a multi-year forecast telling the executives why savings is just as good as revenue on its impact to their bottomline. It doesn't seem to matter that the company will avoid additional monetary outlay of at least nine-million dollars over the next three years. It's not enough. It's never enough. My shoulders ache and I realize I'm hunched forward over my desk.

A soft knock on my door does nothing to change my focus.

"Come." I command without looking up from my monitor.

"Good evening Mistress," Evan says while setting a tray of food down on the conference table in my home office. "Master said you'd be hiding in your office and I noticed you'd not eaten lunch."

"Thank you." I barely acknowledge him. Part of me is a little hurt he'd voted against me earlier but I also know he is concerned.

Silence hangs in the air between us. I continue to focus on the spreadsheet, grumbling when a tab slips and a calculation fails, causing me to retype the formula.

"Please don't take the vote too hard Ma'am. As of late, you seem stressed and edgy, you're snapping at everyone and everything."

"It's ok. You voted by your own perspective."

"Indeed Ma'am."

I look up into Evan's eyes. The worry and concern for me, and the impact of the vote, are etched across his face. With effort I push back from my desk and stand.

"Yes, this will change things." I put voice to the words I know are bouncing around in his own mind. "Not because the way you voted. No one goes through a rite without being changed. I've worked hard to become a woman who can survive in a man's world and survive in the same battles, on unequal footing, in the corporate world. While I am aware it some times take my femininity, it is an unfortunate sacrifice for success."

"Ma'am, you are beautiful. It's not your femininity which made me vote the way I did earlier. It's the loss of your humanity." He whispers. "Master asked that I convey his wishes to see you in the rooftop gardens when you deem you are finished for the evening."

Evan bows quickly, turns and slips out of the door before I can muster a reply.

I sit stunned for a long minute. There is no way I am losing my humanity. The corporate world is competitive and ruthless is necessary, but that didn't mean I'd lost my humanity- did it?

I eat the cheese board and charcuterie platter in silence, but my feet keep time with rushing thoughts as I pace my office. The advantage of being able to work at home means I don't have a commute and my office overlooks the ocean- the work environment could be worse, I remind myself.

The earlier vote continues to bother my thoughts as the work world slides from my mind. Thousands of recent events play like a movie. With each one I try to evaluate my reaction, comments, demeanor and mood. There must be a thread of something in them which caused not only Garrett to request the reset vote but for Evan to agree.

Granted I need a vacation. Work seems stuck on the intense setting rather than the normal ebb and flows of life. Every day brings more demands to preform more complex problem solving with less skilled colleagues and even less time to get solid solutions before moving. It is one thing to release then perfect but quite another to release without a concept of how to get to a solution.

I roll the muscles in my shoulders trying to release the smallest amount of tension. It's been months since anyone could get the knots to move let alone to release. I know I am burning the candle at both end but it was what life requires.

I look down into the last dregs of my wineglass. There is nothing else I can do to delay the inevitable. Garrett will wait for me on the rooftop, no matter how long I take to meet him there. The man is stubborn.

With a deep sigh, I turnto walk out of my office and up the two flights of stairs to the rooftop garden.

A cool breeze blows across the rooftop causing me to shiver.

"Glad you decided to join us Tess," Garrett says from a chair sitting in front of the fire pit. Evan's head lay on his right knee, as Garrett strokes a hand through his hair.

At the mention of my name, Evan head lifts and Garrett nods to him almost imperceptibly. He rises from his position and walks over to the sideboard. With practiced motions, he pours my favorite scotch, neat, into a rock glass and cuts the end of an Arturo Fuente Hemingway-Between The Lines cigar. Once his tasks are complete, he places everything on a silver tray and walkes over to me.