by Robin Roseau
Yeah, yeah. Work with me, okay?
When I was finished, I said, "So. What do you think?"
She studied me carefully.
"I know. I thought about just giving her my number or asking for hers, but if that's what she wanted, she would have asked. It was just a really good weekend."
Aphrodite continued to look at me calmly. I lowered my head. "I know. Do you think I don't know? I can't help it. I wish I could."
That night, before climbing into bed, I took the blindfold back from Aphrodite. I found a few scarves and tied my legs and my wrists, then settled the blindfold in place.
It didn't take too long to get to sleep.
* * * *
I woke Tuesday morning to a rainy, dreary day. I ignored the weather. But as I was selecting clothes for the day, intending to wear my standard jeans and a blouse, I remembered what Miranda had said about clothing. There wasn't anyone at work I worried about impressing, and Miranda would never see it, but I decided to dress to please her, anyway.
It pleased me to imagine her seeing me, even though she never would.
I packed a gym bag with a change of clothes. I could leave it in the corner of my cube in case I ever needed grubbies. I hopped in my car and headed to work.
I worked in the downtown Minneapolis headquarters of an international medical devices company. We made simple things: braces, crutches, walkers, hand holds for the shower or beside the toilet.
I had nothing to do with the medical devices, however. My job title was Senior Network Engineer. I was one of four people responsible for managing the computer network for the entire company. I didn't manage the computers, just the network. I was one of four responsible for the network and the only one of us with the word Senior in her title. The company had tried to promote me three times to a title with the word Manager, but I had turned down each promotion.
I enjoyed working with the equipment. I could manage the processes involved in what we did. But managers manage people, and that wasn't anything I ever wanted to do. And so I'd kept my Senior title, and the four of us had reported to the Director of Technology Services. In reality, I did most of the work I would have done as a Manager, but I didn't have to deal with personnel issues of any sort.
It had worked out well.
But the old Director of Technology Services had been lured away several months ago, leaving a void. The position hadn't yet been filled. And so, technically, I reported to the Vice President of Information Technology. But he didn't have time to directly oversee everyone, and he also tried to convince me to accept a promotion. When I turned him down, my entire department was temporarily assigned, sort of as a dotted line, to the Manager of Systems Engineers. Those were the guys who worked with the computers, rather than the network. But it was a dotted line, and when they finally filled the open Director position, I knew we'd move back.
In a way, the other three guys in my department reported on a dotted line to me as well, and they came to me with their issues rather than anyone else.
We'd had an awful lot of autonomy for the last four months.
* * * *
I parked my car. The company had underground parking for select employees. If you were sufficiently titled, you automatically got a spot, and that was the best reason to accept the Manager title. The last spots were assigned based on the results of your annual review, and I had always scored very highly. In a busy downtown with expensive parking, I coveted my slot in the basement of our building.
I arrived at my desk at 8:30, my typical start time. My coworkers weren't in yet, and so I was the first to check the health of the network and scan the reports from the last few days. If there had been any outages, I would have been notified. There were the usual poor attempts to bypass our network, readily thwarted by our firewalls, and there seemed to be a slowdown to our sales office in Denver. With nothing else more pressing, I began to dig into that.
It was a few minutes to ten when my temporary manager, Roger, stopped by my cube. "Cassidy, there's a department head meeting at ten."
"Have a good time," I replied.
"Cute," he said. "You're expected."
"I'm not a department head."
"And yet, Virgil wants you there, anyway." Virgil was the VP of IT, the boss over us all.
I sighed. "What should I bring?"
"A smile." He demonstrated with his own smile.
I grabbed my tablet anyway, following him to the largest of our conference rooms. When we arrived, about half the eventually attendees had arrived. Roger stepped over to one of the other managers while I took a seat as far from the head of the table as I could get. I used my tablet to make use of the few available minutes.
I know. If I wanted to move up in the world, I should talk to the other people here. But few things made me more uncomfortable than a room full of people. A room full of equipment: that was nirvana. But a room full of people deeply intimidated me.
They were always judging me. I just knew it.
I didn't notice when the last few attendees arrived, but then Virgil began speaking.
"Good morning everyone."
I looked up and to the head of the table. Virgil was standing, and there was a woman standing beside him. Our eyes locked on each other, if it were possible, I think mine would have popped right out of my head.
Miranda.
"No way!" I thought. "She lives in Minnesota? What is she doing here?" I was about to find out.
From her reaction, she was just as surprised to see me as I was to see her. But then she schooled her expression and turned her attention back to Virgil.
I lost a few sentences, but then he introduced Miranda Cogburn, the new Director of Technology Services.
My new boss.
I could barely concentrate for the rest of the meeting, catching only Miranda's name and title, that she'd come with her own assistant, and that Miranda would be meeting with each of us individually over the next few days. Virgil then asked for a hearty welcome to Miranda and adjourned the meeting.
Nearly everyone wanted to meet her, of course. My normal pattern after any meeting like this would have been to hurry back to my desk, scrambling to get away from all the people. Instead, I hung around as Virgil introduced Miranda to a few people. She shook hands, and slowly the room grew less crowded and less crowded.
Miranda glanced at me a few times, but she didn't say anything, and it felt like she was intentionally avoiding me. Finally she'd met everyone who had stayed, although there were a few hanging around. Virgil spotted me and I heard him say, "Miranda, there's one more person you should meet."
Miranda looked around, sweeping the room with her eyes, not even hesitating when she glanced past me. But then Virgil steered her over to me. "Miranda, this is Cassidy Ellis, our Senior Network Engineer. We've talked about her."
"Of course," Miranda said. She offered her hand, and the shake was perfunctory. "Pleasure to meet you." She wore a smile, but it was the exact smile she wore for everyone else.
"We have tried several times to promote Cassidy to Manager of Information Networks," Virgil said, "but she has turned us down. Perhaps you'll have more success."
"Perhaps I will," she said. "Jane will let you know when I want to see you, Cassidy." Then, without another word, she turned away.
She turned away as if she and I hadn't just spent the entire weekend screwing each other's brains out.
I stared at the back of her head. I knew a brush off when I received one.
I fled.
* * * *
I ate lunch alone, a book on my tablet for company. I found myself staring at the words, not actually reading.
I realized I may have been hasty. Miranda may have been uncomfortable with the situation. She had just spent the weekend screwing the brains out of one of her new employees. That had to be awkward. Or maybe she wasn't out at work. I was sure there was a perfectly logical explanation why she'd acted like we'd never met.
I was sure she'd explain it when
we were alone.
I wondered what it would be like working for her.
I wondered if a relationship was possible. Was she even interested? Could she have a relationship with an employee? If she was interested, but the working relationship made it impossible, I wondered if I were willing to change jobs so I could be with her.
I went around and around in circles.
* * * *
"Are you Cassidy Ellis?"
I turned around to see a sharply dressed woman about my age standing at the entrance to my cube.
"Yes."
"I'm Jane."
I nodded to her.
"Miranda's assistant."
"Oh. Yes."
"Unless you're dealing with an emergency, you're on the schedule at 2:20." I glanced at my computer; it was 1:58.
"No problem," I said. "I'll be there."
"Miranda appreciates promptness," Jane said.
"Of course."
I arrived five minutes early and sat down in a chair. I'd brought my tablet, so I was able to get a little work done while I waited.
It was 2:19 when someone walked past me, leaving Miranda's office. And it was exactly 2:20 when Jane told me, "You may go in, Cassidy."
I rose from the chair. When I reached the doorway, Miranda was seated behind her desk, studying some papers. I knocked on the doorframe, and she looked in.
"Come in," she said. "Cassidy, right?"
I stared at her for a moment. "Right." I stepped in and began to close the door.
"Leave it open, please."
"Excuse me?" I said. "I thought we might want a little privacy."
She cocked her head. "Leave it open. Company policy."
"Oh. Right. Company policy." I stepped fully into her office. She didn't get up from her chair. She didn't come around her desk and offer a greeting. She didn't even smile. She simply gestured at the chair in front of her desk. Confused, I moved to it and sat slowly. Miranda looked back down at the papers on her desk for a minute, sorting through them. I realized one of them was my résumé from when I was hired, and I realized she had my personnel file.
"Well," she said finally, looking up and folding her hands over the paperwork. She smiled, but it didn't extend to her eyes and felt... cold. "Cassidy Ellis." She glanced down again. "Senior Network Technician." She looked back up. "From the things Virgil and Roger both said about you, and the comments from my predecessor, it seems you're quite the employee."
I stared at her for a moment. "That's what you want to talk about?"
"What else would we discuss?"
"You're not going to ask me how my flight was?"
"Excuse me?"
I blinked at her several times.
"Or tell me about yours?" I said in a small voice.
She frowned. "I'm sorry, Cassidy," she said. "I don't know what you're talking about."
I stared. She stared back, frowning.
"Perhaps you've confused me for someone else," she added.
"For someone else." That was bullshit, complete bullshit. "I see." I lowered my eyes and stared at my hands, but inside, my gut was clenching into a knot. I didn't say another word.
"Well then. Mistakes happen," she said. She rattled the papers for a minute. "You are the person primarily responsible for our network infrastructure."
"There are four of us."
"Please don't be coy," she said. "Your title is Senior Network Engineer. From what I've been told, you are filling duties beyond your title. Whatever the org chart and your title indicate, you are operating as the department manager."
I looked up at her. "Not all of it."
"Fine," she agreed. "But when I want to know the health of the network or talk about future planning, who is Jane going to retrieve?"
"Me, I guess. Well, any of us can tell you how the network is doing, but if we're talking future planning, trend analysis, or things like that, I guess that's me."
"All right. Take two minutes to tell me about our network."
"I wouldn't know where to begin," I replied immediately. "Would you care to narrow the topic?"
"No."
I sighed. There was no way I could describe our network in two minutes. But I gave her a very high level overview, one I thought was close to worthless. I thought I perhaps had time to tell her about a few niggling issues but finished with, "If you want more detail, I can take more time or send you links to our intranet with network diagrams."
"Send me the links," she said. "If I need more information, I'll let you know." I nodded. "I understand you have repeatedly turned down a promotion from your current duties. I would like to know why."
"You know why, Miranda."
She cocked her head. "Excuse me."
I sighed. "I am great with machines. I'm not so good with people. I am happy to manage the equipment and the processes, but I don't want to manage the people. I don't want to do performance appraisals or deal with disciplinary or motivational problems. I prefer to hide in my cube and do my job."
She tapped her fingernails on the desk for a moment.
"Your team currently reports to Roger."
"Yes. Previously we reported to Elliott, your predecessor, but Virgil didn't want to be involved in that level of detail, so he temporarily moved us under Roger."
"Yes, well. I don't want to deal with that level of detail, either. I would like to know why you expect me -- or Roger -- to do your job."
I stared at her for a minute. "I don't understand. I am fulfilling all the duties in my job description and a number more besides."
"Your department is slotted for four people," she explained. "Three techs and a manager. Instead, I have three techs and a senior tech who is the de facto department head but is shirking a portion of her duties."
I didn't understand what was going on, but I was never one to cause conflict. However, I was very good with facts, so I stuck to them.
"That organization structure is eight years old," I said. "In the intervening eight years, we've added seven sales offices domestically and installed an international network. Across the board we've increased both capacity and security."
"Security is not your department."
"We both know that network security is entirely my department. The information security officer reviews our procedures, but I'm the person who designed them, and the four of us implement them. As I was saying, our network is significantly larger and more complicated than it was eight years ago with far more pieces of hardware connected to it, any one of which can bring a virus into our offices. But do you know how many viruses have run rampant throughout our offices in the last five years?"
"How many?"
"One. It was transmitted via standard email, and the network wasn't responsible for stopping it. But all of that capacity and security requires the four of us to keep it running smoothly."
I leaned back in the chair and folded my arms.
Miranda, however, leaned forward, crossing her arms on her desk. "Take the promotion."
"No."
"I have no intention of doing your job."
"I have no intention of shirking my responsibilities," I said. "I am performing every task under my job description and, according to every review I've ever received, doing an admirable job. I see no reason for that to change."
She frowned. "I will be rewriting your job description to include the remaining duties."
I opened and closed my mouth several times. Miranda leaned back and smiled. It was a predatory smile, and I didn't like it at all.
Then I returned the smile. "Are you familiar with the Peter Principle?"
Her smile faded. "I am."
The Peter Principle is simple. People tend to be promoted because they have done a good job in their current duties. They earned a promotion. This means they eventually are promoted to their level of incompetence, and there they stay, no longer earning promotions.
"Promoting me to manager would make me a shining example of the Peter Principle," I said. "Assigning
me the duties of the department manager whether I carry the title or not would be another shining example of the Peter Principle." I paused. "Now that you've been apprised of the situation, the only thing that isn't clear to me is which of us would shine more brightly."
Her lips tightened and we stared at each other for a moment or two. Finally she said, "This company prefers to promote from within. Which of your coworkers do you recommend for the position you are declining?"
I hadn't expected that question, but then I hadn't expected anything in the entire conversation. But I gave it real thought. Finally I said, "I am unqualified to judge their ability to serve as a pure manager. I do not believe any of them have the experience or training to take over the management duties I am already performing."
She continued to scowl. "Pick the most promising and train him."
I said only two words. "Peter. Principle."
She made a disgusted sound. "You, or him?"
"Me. I am not qualified to serve as a trainer. Miranda, I am not a people person. I do not know why you are trying to force me to become one."
She made another disgusted sound. "For now, your department reports to me. You will continue to do the jobs you are currently doing. I require a resolution to this problem. I want your written recommendation by the end of the week."
"If you are unwilling to manage us directly," I said, "I can give you a verbal recommendation right now. Hire a manager."
"I cannot hire a manager for ten hours of work a week," she said. "I would need duties from you to give that person enough to do."
"Then maybe I wouldn't have to work fifty-five hour weeks," I replied immediately.
"If you are not performing the duties of a Senior Network Technician, I can return your title to simply Network Technician."
I looked away. I was proud of my title. I was proud of the work I did here. I was good at it. I was good at all of it.
"That is not my first choice, Cassidy," she added. "But I require a solution to this problem."
I didn't look at her right away. "I am not qualified to perform the duties you are asking me to perform." I turned back. "I've tried in the past. I grew literally sick from it. I took the position here under assurances I would never be asked to manage people, only equipment and processes. I am also not qualified to solve this problem for you. I'm sorry. Was there anything else?"