“He likes to talk about how passionate he is about the customers, and about how like a family the employees are,”Morgan said, thinking about the vacation days. “But he doesn’t care about those, either, does he?”
Luke shook his head. “It’s not in the list of things he wants, no.”
She wasn’t sure that was particularly new information, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t depressing. “Gisele, you’ve worked with a lot of different companies. Are they all like this?”
Gisele tapped her lips thoughtfully. “There’s a certain amount of ruthless ambition you need to even want to be a startup CEO. And every organization is at least a little bit dysfunctional, because they’re made up of people and people on average are ludicrous. But some of them are a little more, I dunno, mission-oriented?”
“That’s diplomatic for?”
“For ‘I wouldn’t want to be a full-timer at your place.’ Sorry.”
Morgan let her head thud back against the couch. “Should I have held out for something more mission-oriented? Is this my fault?”
“You still needed to eat,” Gisele shrugged. “I don’t think you really did anything wrong.”
“I did my whole life wrong.” Morgan’s throat tightened. “I should have been more ambitious. Or something. If I’d had some passion to follow maybe I wouldn’t have ended up following a guy who discriminates against pregnant people and takes all his cues from shitty podcasts.”
Gisele gave her a look of fond exasperation. “I don’t think finding out your employer is crappier than you’d realized means you need to go into existential despair. You’re allowed to cultivate your own garden and all.”
“What do gardens have to do with this?” Luke looked baffled. Morgan turned up her hands in confusion.
“Seriously?Candide? Kristen Chenoweth singing ‘Glitter and Be Gay’? Didn’t you have to read any Voltaire in high school?”
“In my high school, we were lucky to read something other than the football scores,” Morgan said. She wondered if Pendragon Prep taught Voltaire.
“I’m sorry your high school was shitty, although I’m gonna point out nothing keeps you from fixing that yourself now,” Gisele said. “Anyway, the super short version ofCandideis a guy runs around the world trying to figure out the purpose of life and finds out that everything—religion, love, the military, monarchies—mostly leads to bad stuff. And at the end, after he’s seen all human ambition be thwarted over and over, he decides the only right thing to do is to focus on cultivating his own little garden.”
Morgan rubbed her face. “So is he saying you’re supposed to help the world by doing small stuff you can control, or you’re supposed to stay focused on small stuff because there’s no point in anything big because the big stuff is hopeless?”
Gisele shrugged. “Beats me. I get the impression scholars have been arguing over which one Voltaire meant since he wrote the damn thing. But I think the Leonard Bernstein opera thinks it’s the first one, and honestly, I know it mostly because I like Kristin Chenoweth.”
“Well, I don’t think Brad read it, either way. He probably would have gotten the SparkNotes.”
“He probably would have gotten his dad to pay his tutor to write his essay for him. Guys like that are always looking for a shortcut,” Gisele suggested. “Which means he’s gotta bea shoo-in for a Deal, if you can make him think it’s his idea.”
“Lifehack: sell your soul to a demon.” Morgan rolled her eyes. “So how do we make him think of something he probably doesn’t think is real?”
“Leave it up on his browser,” Gisele suggested.
“Pretty sure he’s got a lock screen like everyone in this century,” Morgan said.
“Whisper it in his ear while he sleeps,” Luke said.
“You’re volunteering to sneak into his bedroom?”
“It’s a pity Tim didn’t succeed so you could use him as a proof point,” Gisele said.
“Yeah, well, unfortunately, he died. Which is why we’re here in the first place.” None of this was going to work.
“Fine. How aboutyoumake a suggestion?” Gisele snapped back, annoyed.
“Sorry,” Morgan winced. “You’re right. I wish I could suggest it tohim. I just… He doesn’t seem like the kind of person to take a suggestion from a person like me, you know? Younger and female and not on some board?”
“Like a whiteboard?” Luke perked up.
“No, totally different kind of board. It’s—never mind. My point is that he isn’t going to take suggestions from someone who hasn’t done, like, a TED Talk or is some kind of growth hacking expert or something.”
“What if he thinks it came from a—do I even want to know what growth hacking is?”
