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‘Use this opportunity, Rochelle. Seize the moment. Did my assistant give you a copy of my next book?’
‘Yes. A signed copy.’ Rochelle appeared to have reined in her inner fangirl. ‘And I think it’s so cool that you have a male assistant.’
‘I employ the best person for the job. In this case it’s Cole.’
Out of the corner of her eye she checked the desks of her top executives. She and Bill Keen were the only members of the company to have their own offices. The others worked in the bright open space that stretched the width of the building. Occasionally Gayle would survey her domain from the protection of her glass-fronted oasis and think, I built this myself, with nothing more than guts and a grim determination to survive.
The shiny globe of Simon Belton’s bald head was just visible above the top of his cubicle. He’d been there when she’d arrived, which had instantly improved her mood. He was a hard worker, if a little lacking in truly innovative ideas. Next to him sat Marion Lake. Gayle had hired her the year before, as head of marketing, but she was starting to think the appointment might have been a mistake. Just that morning Gayle had seen her jacket slung casually over the back of her chair, its presence indicating that Marion was somewhere in the building.
Gayle had known she wasn’t.
Her mouth thinned. When she gave people a chance she expected them to take it.
Even now, after all these years, people constantly underestimated her. Did they really think she’d see a jacket draped over the back of a chair and assume they were in the office? There had been no coffee on the desk, and Gayle knew that Marion couldn’t operate without coffee. And the office had had the atmosphere of a cemetery. Marion had a loud voice and an irritating compulsion to use it frequently—a flaw possibly related to the volume of coffee she drank. If she had been anywhere in the vicinity Gayle would have heard her.
She often thought she would have made an excellent detective. She noticed small details—like when people were lying, or hadn’t been home the night before. She could tell the difference between a wild guess and a statement based on fact.
‘Going live in three minutes,’ one of the film crew told her, and Gayle settled herself more comfortably, composing her features.
She’d done hundreds of interviews, both live and recorded. They held no fear for her. They weren’t in control—she was. If she didn’t like a question, she simply answered a different one. Like everything else, it was a matter of choice.
In her head she hummed a few bars of the Puccini opera she’d seen the week before. Glorious. Dramatic and tragic, of course…but that was life, wasn’t it?
Rochelle smoothed her hair and cleared her throat.
‘Live in five, four, three…’
The man held up two fingers, then one, and Gayle looked at the young reporter, hoping her questions would be good. She didn’t want to have misjudged her.
Rochelle spoke directly to camera, her voice clear and confident. ‘Hi, I’m Rochelle Barnard and I’m here at the offices of Mitchell and Associates in downtown Manhattan to interview Gayle Mitchell—more commonly known as GM to her staff and her legions of fans—one of the most powerful and celebrated women in business. Her last book, Choice Not Chance, spent twelve months at the top of the bestseller lists and her latest book, Brave New You, is out next week. She’s one of the leading authorities on organisational change, and is also known for her philanthropic work. But most of all she’s known as a supporter of women, and just this week she was presented with the coveted Star Award for most inspirational woman in business at a glitzy event right here in Manhattan. Congratulations, Ms Mitchell. How does it feel to have your contribution recognised?’
Gayle angled her head, offering her best side to the camera. ‘I’m honoured, of course, but the real honour comes from helping other women realise their potential. We’re so often told that we can’t compete, Rochelle, and as a leader my role is to encourage other women to challenge that view.’
She smiled, careful to portray herself as approachable and accessible.
‘You’re known to be a fierce advocate for women in the workplace. What drives that?’
Gayle answered, the words flowing easily and naturally.
Rochelle threw a few more questions her way, and she handled those with the same ease.
‘People either love you or hate you. There seems to be no middle ground. Does it worry you that some people consider you to be ruthless?’
‘I’m tough, and I make no apologies for that. There are people who will always be threatened by the success of another, and people who shy away from change. I embrace change. Change is progress, and we need progress. Change is what keeps us moving forward.’
‘In your company you run an internship programme with one of the most generous packages of any industry. You also offer scholarships. Why have you chosen to invest in this area?’
Because once, a long time ago, when she’d been alone and desperate, she’d vowed that if she was ever in a position to help someone like herself then she’d do it.
But she didn’t share that. Such an admission might easily be seen as weakness. And how could they possibly understand? This girl sitting opposite her had never experienced the hard grip of fear. Gayle knew how deeply those claws could bite. She understood that fear could make you a prisoner, holding you inactive. Breaking free of that wasn’t easy. She was willing to hand a key to a few worthy individuals.
‘I see it as an investment…’ She talked a little more about the role she’d played fighting for the underprivileged and saw Rochelle’s eyes mist with admiration.
‘Some people think you’ve been lucky. How would you answer that?’
Not politely.
Luck had played no part in Gayle’s life. She’d made careful choices, driven by thought and not emotion. Nothing had happened by chance. She’d designed her life, and now it was looking exactly the way she wanted it to look.
