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Indignation rose in my chest, straightening my back. “No, I’m not hisassistant. He has an executive assistant. I’m more like his understudy—he didn’t want to take a job away from one of our VPs to give it to me, so he created a comparable position that would allow me to see the top-down view of how the business is run.”
“No, that makes sense. You can’t take over as CEO if you haven’t seen how the job works. So, how long have you been in this position?”
“Three years,” I answered, chin high. “I have made employee satisfaction my top priority for the last two years and it’s had a dramatic effect on our retention rates of hourly employees.”
“That’s really impressive,” he smiled indulgently. “I’m sure it’s gratifying to see that your policies have a direct effect on your employees’ lives. So what did you do before this position?”
“I was mid-level manager for a year, working directly for the VP of Lodging. Before that I managed the hotel downstairs for two years, directly after I finished my MBA. Summers during college I managed the housekeeping team, and while I was in highschool, I worked the reception desk downstairs.”
“Even more impressive,” he complimented. “Not a lot of kids would take a low-level job when their parents own the company.”
“Oh, my dad insisted on it. He said that if we wanted to be the boss some day, we had to start from the bottom like everyone else.”
Jake’s head tilted slightly at that statement, and I rushed to explain. “I mean, I know it wasn’texactlylike everyone else, but I had to do the same high school job as most of my friends. So I wasn’t scrubbing toilets, but I learned firsthand how to deal with rude customers and what the rest of the staff hated about their jobs. I’ve taken those lessons with me as I’ve gone up the ranks.”
“It certainly seems like you have a good understanding of all those positions. So, what do you know about your father’s job?”
A snort pushed from my lips. “You mean besides long lunches and golf with the VPs?”
Jake’s eyebrows lowered, his expression immediately becoming serious. “Yeah, what does he do when he’s working in his office? What are his primary concerns? What are the things only the CEO manages?”
“Honestly, I think the VPs do most of the work. They bring my dad things to sign off on. They present their quarterly budgets and costs, profits, needs, and anything that he can’t decide on himself he takes to the board. Other than that, it’s meetings… I think more of his days are spent on duties related to his position as board chair than they are on things relating to being the CEO of Aspen Ridge Lodging.”
“So, how would you change that?”
That took me by surprise. “Come again?”
“When you take over as CEO, and your father steps back to merely serving as the chair of the board? You said his days are filled with board duties. So what would you do differently, as CEO, than your father does now?”
Pleasure swelled in my chest, and I settled further into my seat. He was definitely interested in my approach, already talking about the changes I’d make when Dad retired. “Frankly, I don’t think my days will differ greatly from what they are now. I’d have reports to look over, things to coordinate for the VPs to make sure they have what they need to run their portions of the business. In the afternoons, I’ll continue my rounds. I might have occasional meetings that take me away, but I don’t see why I can’t mostly stick to how things are now.”
“So your father told me I’m as likely to find you outside working with the landscaping crew as I am to find you in your office. Would you consider that an exaggeration? Are your rounds pretty much what we did today?”
A worm of unease wriggled in my belly. “Well, I have pitched in and helped if I saw someone who needed it.”
“Like how? Give me an example.”
Suddenly, it felt like an inquisition again. I spent the entire day Friday decorating and helping prepare food for the employee party, but I certainly didn’t want to bring that up. It would renew the awkwardness as I forced him to remember getting drunk and making out. “One time we had a long-time client wanting to check in early, and the housekeeping staff was short-handed, so I stepped in to help get the rooms ready.”
“Okay. And did the staff appreciate the help?”
“Absolutely. They thanked me a lot. I mean, they kept insisting they didn’t need the help, but I don’t want anyone to feel overwhelmed and I was there. It was no problem.”
Jake’s expression turned thoughtful. “Did you consider they might not think it was helpful?”
“What? Why not?”
“Well, they could have interpreted you jumping in to help as a sign that you don’t think them capable of doing their jobs. Or they could have seen it as posturing: either you showing that they’re replaceable, or that you simply wanted to ‘step down to their level’ in a condescending way. Did you think about them possibly taking it that way?”
Heat flooded my cheeks. “Of course not, because that isn’t what happened. They were short two team members, and I just wanted to help them out. They knew that. There was no underlying intent aside from helping.”
Jake nodded, raised his hands defensively. “Okay, I’m just asking. You should always remember that intent and interpretation aren’t always the same. You can intend to be helpful—like that shoe company who gives a free pair of shoes to a kid in Africa for every pair sold. They obviously had altruistic intent. However, what happened was they put a lot of local shoemakers out of business, and the people who needed that income didn’t feel as gratified by the reality.”
The indignation broke like a wave over me, this criticism all the more frustrating coming from the lips I kept wanting to kiss. “You’re being ridiculous. I helped to make a few beds so our staff could get home on time. That’s it.”
“Fair enough,” he replied mildly. “Speaking of getting home to our families, it’s about time for me to head out and pick up my kids.”
A wave of shock rippled through me. “You have kids?”
