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Tess jolted at the thought of Monique seeing so easily through her. “A little, but mostly it’s about me. This past month I’ve had to take a hard look at myself. I left my father’s company because of arrogance. I took this job because I wanted to punish him. None of those reasons were good enough for me to stay where I don’t fit. From the beginning I knew I’d made a mistake, but I was too prideful to admit it.”
“Nothing wrong with what you did. You made your own way.”
“Maybe so,” Tess said, looking around Monique’s office, seeing nothing of a personal nature which made her sad. Her father’s office had always been filled with what was important to him. “Can I say something to you that might be a little out of line?”
Monique rolled her eyes. “I know what you’re going to say. I’m a bitch. I’m underhanded, merciless, sneaky. Go ahead. I’ve heard it all before.”
“That’s not what I was going to say,” Tess said, with a small smile. “I wanted to tell you how talented you are, and how much I admire your determination to make it in this business.”
“Really?”
“Yes. You’re exactly what this business needs. But…I think you’re scared.”
Monique chuffed. “I’mnotscared.”
“You conduct business like you’re scared. Like you’re afraid someone won’t think you’re good enough. That’s what that whole sketch thing was about—control and ego.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
Tess shook her head. “It’s not. And here’s the thing my dad taught me that you would do well to heed. You’re only as good as the people around you. And it’s not just your employees, it’s Josh. It’s that wonderful, funny little girl who draws you pictures every day.” Tess looked around the austere office again and arched an eyebrow at Monique.
Monique pulled out a plastic container of drawings from a drawer. She took the top one, a picture of what looked to be a person playing soccer. “This one is of you, I think.”
She passed it over.
Tess took the drawing and smiled at the little girl’s interpretation of the soccer field and the overly long prongs on the soccer cleats.
“Whatever anyone may think about me, I love my daughter.” Her tone wasn’t defensive. It was sad.
“I know you do. But it’s not weak to show that.”
“I’m good at running this place. I’m just not good at being a mom.”
Not knowing what to say, Tess handed back the drawing.
“It was easier when she was a baby. Feed her, change her, rock her. I didn’t worry about messing up, but as she grew, I felt more and more helpless. Josh is actually better with her than I am.” Monique snapped the lid closed and placed the box back in her drawer. “I’m sorry. I guess I didn’t want you to think I’m some unfeeling monster.”
“I don’t think that, Monique.”
“I feel that way sometimes,” she said with a sigh.
“My dad built Ullo from nothing, just like you, but it’s easier for a man. He had my mother at home taking care of carpool, homework, snacks—the stuff all parents have to deal with. He worked hard to build Ullo, but he never put his business before his family. Never. I think that’s a good policy. And I think every parent feels like they suck sometimes. I mean, I don’t know firsthand, but it seems that way to me.”
Monique shifted her gaze, seemingly thinking about what Tess said. “Maybe so.”
“My dad’s dying, and in these final months, he’s let go of Ullo… but he’s gathered to him the people he loves. It’s not about contracts”—Tess tapped the paper—“or specifications. It’s about people.”
Tugging the contract from beneath Tess’s finger, Monique tossed it in the trash. “Okay. There. I’ll start with you.”
Tess gave her a puzzled look.
“I’m not going to read over the fine print, talk badly about you for changing your mind, or pitch a fit over the Oedipus bid. I’m going to let it go so I can go home early and watch Josh and Emily kick balls into the net Graham bought her. The thing takes up our whole backyard.”
“Wow.”
Monique gave her a shrug and a slight smile. “Yeah, I know. I’m getting soft.”
Tess raised her eyebrows. “Or maybe you’re accepting that life can’t always be controlled. I’ve had to figure that out myself.”
