Page 44 of The Hard Launch

“No, no need for that,” I tell him. “Talk to the team, I’m just a fly on the wall.”

A fly who wonders why you decided to use microservices when it would be faster and simpler not to. I could question Dave, but he’s smart and probably has a completely justifiable reason for making this choice. Explaining it to me now is just a waste of their time. Hire smart people and stay the hell out of their way, right?

Ingrid and Irina are the only ones with actual questions for me; I get to sit down with the tiger team and contribute for half an hour. But then it’s time for them to put what we talked about into action, and since CEOs don’t write code, I go back to my office where I stand at my desk and work on the two versions of the board deck that I have cooking. One for if Project Roar gets completed in time. Another one for if it doesn’t.

I spend a lot of time on the former, largely to avoid thinking about the latter.

“Hey,” Lacey says, popping her head in the door that I’ve left open, in case anyone wants to come talk to me. They haven’t.

“What’s up?”

“We have a working dinner planned tonight, but Jonnie’s forcing us outside before it. For recess, like we’re a bunch of third graders. She says it’s to clear our heads but I think she’s going to clean up after us. Which is sad, but necessary.”

“It’s pretty bad in there,” I agree. “But in a productive way.”

“Do you want to come out to recess?” she asks.

I shake my head. “The board deck—”

“I found this, though.” She gives me a sly smile and looks at her feet. And then kicks.

A neon pink soccer ball, around the size of a grapefruit, comes rolling across the floor to me. I stop it under my foot.

“It was out there with the bocce stuff,” she explains. I can’t resist showing off; I use my toe to pop it up to my knee, then send it sailing back to her. She taps it softly into the room, following it. She’s not smiling anymore.

“Are you okay?” she asks me, rolling the ball around under her foot.

“Yeah,” I say. “Did my sister tell you I wasn’t?”

She looks at me, frustrated. “I don’t need Ella to tell me something’s off with you. Also: honesty and transparency. Remember?”

I push my hair out of my eyes. “It’s all the same stuff, Lacey. I’m stuck doing things that I hate, and I guess it doesn’t make it better to watch other people do the parts I loved.”

She nods at me. “Yeah, that sounds terrible. I’m sorry it’s worked out that way.”

“And I feel annoying complaining about it.”

“About how lonely it is at the top?” She tilts her head, considering it. “See, I think you’re doing it wrong. When I’m a CEO, I’m going to let the power go to my head. Completely. I’ll be a monster.” She kicks the ball to me again and takes a step closer.

I close my laptop and turn to her. “Like how?” I ask, passing the ball back.

“Like right now?” She squints at me. “If I were the CEO, I’d tell you to go close that door,” she says, in a quiet and throaty voice.

I swallow. I walk to the door and check that the hallway’s clear before I close it.

“Lock it, too.”

I comply, and return to my desk to wait for her next request. I wonder if she can hear how loud my heart is beating.

“Honesty and transparency: is work the only thing bothering you?” she asks quietly.

I shake my head.

“I have some unprofessional concerns,” I tell her, and she smiles. She’s standing right in front of me now.

“As your chief executive,” she says. “I’m going to need you to put this hand right here.” She moves my left hand to her back.

“What about this one?” I ask, showing her my right hand. She places it on her cheek, then grazes my lips with her index finger.