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I enter my password and launch the program. My laptop screen goes black, then fades up with four video screens, all angled toward the crowd. I’d requested an aisle seat for Stirling, so he’d be comfortable. The facilities coordinator assured me she could make that happen. I zoom in on each image to see if I can find the man I’m trying not to think about. Ironic? Everything about this man and our unexpected relationship confuses me.
Either Stirling hasn’t arrived yet or he’s been seated at the back of the room, off camera.
I’m surprised at how disappointed I am. Almost as surprised as how much I’ve enjoyed having Stirling in my space twenty-four hours a day.
I lived with boyfriends on two occasions in my twenties and neither worked out for longer than a month. That’s when I realized I would never get married, since marriage requires so many compromises and putting up with crap that annoys you. Thank the goddess that Mom raised me to be independent and self-sufficient. I’m not delusional, thinking having a child—or two—will be easy on my own. I just decided that if I wanted kids I’d figure out how to make that happen.
It took years of planning and saving, and then, less than two months away from finally having my own family, this guy shows up and starts to mess with my head about what I actually want. It’s exhausting. I close my eyes and just listen to the thrum of the crowd as white noise. Apparently that lulls me to sleep because I wake with a start when I hear Stirling’s deep voice beside me in the room.
I open my eyes, but he’s not here.
“Stirling?” I call.
He answers, but not in the way I expect. He’s speaking from my computer, which is still streaming the event. I drag it onto my lap and focus on Camera 1, the one on Mr. Power’s side of the stage, facing Stirling. My insides go gooey.
I hadn’t appreciated how great he looked in his business casual wear; I’d only ever seen him in shorts, sweats and T-shirts—which he looks darned fine in. But dressed up? Phew! I imagine all the women who are gawking at him and feel a touch possessive.
“In terms of the personality archetypes I was sharing before you came on stage, what are you?” Mr. Power asks Stirling.
He shakes his head and looks disappointed. “A caregiver.”
“You don’t look happy about that. Is that not what you want in your next career?”
“I don’t know. It’s been my default for so long I’m not sure I know how to be anything else.”
Mr. Power nods and looks thoughtful, his trademark look. People eat it up. I’ve seen it so many times I know it is part of the stage act.
“I’m not going to blow smoke and suggest you have an easy decision to make, Stirling. The career exploration is in many ways easier than this question you have about the woman you’ve been seeing. Can you picture what life would be like with her if you were to assert a different part of yourself? If you were tonotbe the caregiver?”
I sit up straight.
“I wouldn’t know where to start.” Stirling squints one eye, as if the very thought is giving him a headache.
I find myself mimicking him because the sudden pain in my temple is very real.
If only I could rewind the livestream to hear what I’ve missed.
Mr. Power speaks before Stirling can. “I’m guessing by that expression that you haven’t had the hard conversation with her.”
He turns to face the audience now. “People, if you leave with one take-away from this exchange with a man who was literally on top of his career game internationally and is now, like every person in the room, trying to level up, or in his case make a comeback, it is this:
“You may be the smartest person in your head, but you are rarely the smartest person in the room. Have the conversations that need to be had—the difficult ones, the ones that make you feel ill, the conversations that could literally blow up and change your life. Because that’s why you’re here. If you want to Power. Up. Your. Life, odds are you’re going to have to pull the plug on something comfortable because next-level success requires next-level thinking. And you won’t get that if you keep doing what you’ve been doing.”
Mr. Power reaches a hand toward Stirling, who shakes it with enthusiasm but no smile.
Savannah, Mr. Power’s event manager, walks out and motions for Stirling to follow her off-stage. Before he’s out of sight, I’m texting.
Magdalena
Call me as soon as you get this.
CHAPTER16
Stirling
After the surprise, public conversation about my private life, which I was not expecting in a coaching session about my career options, I take a breather from the seminar to consider how to have a conversation with Magdalena about boundaries and changing the dynamic of who we are in our budding relationship.
I pull the Come Into Power journal from my conference bag and begin two lists.
