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I sighed and leaned back in my chair. “We’ve had a conversation about staying out of my personal life about six thousand times.”
She frowned at me as she moved her glasses to the top of her head, using them to hold back her graying bob. “Stuff’s going on with you, Aleksei. Big stuff. The whole staff has noticed, and they’ve come to me for answers. But I can’t give them any, because you won’t talk to me. Don’t you need someone to talk to? I mean, I guess you’re probably talking to your pretty young thing. Your PYT, if you will. But who do you have to talk to about your PYT?”
“I don’t want to talk about him.”
“Why are you keeping your relationship a secret? Is it that you’re still in the closet? Because that’s something I can help you with.”
“It’s not a secret. I’m just choosing to keep my personal and professional life separate.”
“Well, if you change your mind and want to talk, I’m always available.” She got up and added, “I’m glad you’re happy, though. There’s a trickle-down effect, you know. When you’re happy, so’s your staff. Morale’s at an all-time high, but since no one knows what’s going on with you, it feels a little like everyone’s holding their breath and waiting for the old Aleksei to resurface.”
Now it was my turn to frown. “Was I such an ogre to work for, prior to a month ago?”
Her tone turned sympathetic. “You weren’t an ogre at all. What you were was sad and lonely, for years and years, even while you were married. That cast a gray cloud over the entire office. But things are good now. Really good. The senior staff is thrilled that you’ve finally started giving them more responsibility, because it shows you trust them and believe in their ability. They’re happier, so they’re being kinder to their support staff, and so on down the line. I’m trying to do my part to make sure the gray clouds stay away, not just for your sake, but for everyone else’s, too.”
She started to leave my office, and I called after her, “Thank you, Maureen. You’ve always been the heart of this entire operation, and I appreciate how much you care about me and our staff.”
She turned back and smiled at me when she reached the doorway. “Please try to hang on to that PYT. We all like the side of you that he brings out. Oh, and it’s four twenty-nine. Hurry, or you’ll miss him.”
After she left, I jumped up and rushed to the window. Timothy appeared a moment later. He waved at me, blew a bunch of kisses, and made a heart with both hands. Even at this distance, his smile was glorious.
I waved and offered him a smile in return. Then he went into the restaurant, and I just stood there for a while and thought about what Maureen had said.
It was news to me that my mood had that kind of effect on my staff. I’d always tried to be a good boss, which to me meant offering a generous salary and benefits. Aside from that, I did my thing, they did theirs, and the company prospered. But apparently I needed to step up.
After a minute, I returned to my desk and finished composing my daily email to my son. This was a new thing I’d been trying over the last month, since he never returned my calls. He’d always been really close with his mom, and as my relationship with my wife began to crumble, ours did, too. But I wasn’t about to give up on him, so I’d been trying this approach.
Today’s email said: Hi Lenny. Last I heard, you were in London. Next time you’re in San Francisco, I’d love to take you to dinner. Have you ever tried Ethiopian food? I had it for the first time recently and was pleasantly surprised. Anyway, I hope you’re doing okay, and I just wanted you to know I’m thinking about you.
All of the messages had been about like that—short and positive. I could only hope he’d actually read them, but I was feeling optimistic as I exited out of my email account and went back to work.
When I showed up at the restaurant that evening at eight sharp, Timothy was even more effervescent than usual. Even though I was a creature of habit, I’d agreed to let him plan my meal one night a week. Tonight was his night, and there was always some kind of theme involved. Once he even convinced the chef to go off-menu, so I had no way of knowing what was in store for me.
Within a minute of getting seated in my usual booth, he swept in and placed a martini in front of me. “Hi Aleksei,” he said, with a huge smile. “I think you’re going to enjoy tonight’s theme. To start you off, that drink is called a dirty and spicy. It’s basically a dirty martini with a little heat.”
