Forget the Yellow Brick Road

by Liz Green

  She was aware that the other shortlisted candidate was an external, so she thought that this final stage would be easier for her. Based on her existing relationships within The Organisation, she was in a stronger position and not coming in cold and attempting to build rapport in the allocated hour for the meeting.

  As she strode toward the meeting room for the interview, Dorothy felt completely confident in the knowledge that she had made it this far in the process and that she had solid relationships with some of the people she would be meeting that was until she saw the other candidate leaving the meeting room. He was laughing loudly with a few members of the team and was joyfully slapped on the back by another one, who had his back turned to Dorothy. As she approached, the external candidate walked past her smiling on his way out.

  Dorothy suddenly felt very nervous but, without a sideways glance, walked straight toward the group of people at the door of the meeting room. The man who slapped the candidate on the shoulder turned in her direction. To her shock and horror, he was one of Wendy West’s three monkeys. Dorothy’s heart leapt into her throat. She knew there had been a recent internal hire into this team, but had not yet discovered who it had been. Now she knew. Frantically Dorothy ran through all the possible scenarios on how this could affect her chances, and, more importantly, how she should play her cards.

  To Dorothy’s surprise, the meeting went well. The team asked standard questions, all of which Dorothy was well prepared to answer. Her strategic approach was to sell herself on her transformational leadership style, her commitment to work and The Organisation, the importance she placed on teamwork, and her commitment to the development and success of those she worked with. Her responses were received positively by most people in the room. It seemed all the talk in the room was in the context of Dorothy being ‘in’ the job. Wendy’s monkey, however, was quite obviously unimpressed or he was fearful that Dorothy might actually get the job and become his manager.

  At the end of the meeting, one of the team members told Dorothy that the team would sleep on the decision overnight. They had agreed not to discuss the candidates with each other until they met the following morning to make the final choice by way of democratic vote. Considering there were five direct reports on the team, there was no chance of a tied vote and a forced decision by the board or the CFO. Dorothy just had to cross her fingers and hope for the best, or so she thought.

  The evening was hot and humid. As Dorothy walked down the stairs to the underground train station, to travel home from work, she felt the thickness of the air intensify and the heat engulf her. This sensation was almost too much to bear on top of the pressure she already felt around the impending decision.

  The crowds on the platform were silent as they stood impatiently for their trains to pull into the station and whisk them away to their air-conditioned homes. Train delays and cancellations were a regular occurrence, and this night was no different. Dorothy watched as one train arrived already full to the brim with people. Only a handful of people dared to squeeze onto the carriages before the doors closed. It was clear that it would be a while before Dorothy would find herself on a train headed home. She found a bench to sit down and rest her tired feet.

  She wasn’t in a hurry to get home, so she figured she would wait until the peak flow of people had passed so she could step onto a train in comfort, rather than being packed like a sardine into a can bursting at the seams.

  As Dorothy flicked off one of her high-heel shoes to stretch her toes, she sensed that the person sitting next to her was looking at her. Clearly the world wasn’t big enough, she thought. She was sitting right next to the monkey from the day’s meeting.

  “Oh, hi. Sorry, I didn’t see you sitting there,” Dorothy said, casually but cautiously. “Looks like it is going to be a long trip home tonight.”

  “Yeah, it does,” replied the monkey.

  The two sat as silently as the rest of the rail commuters. As the crowd began to thin and Dorothy had a glimmer of hope of getting on the next train, the monkey said, “I think we need to talk, Dorothy, don’t you?”

  Dorothy had been sitting there trying to come up with something appropriate to say. She did not want to sound as though she were trying to clear the air simply to secure his vote, so she was pleased that he raised the issue first.

  “I think that’s a good idea,” she said. “Perhaps I should start by asking why it was that you conspired against me and did what you did under such false pretences.”

  The man seemed taken aback by her direct question but then softened, perhaps as he realised it was genuinely a fair question to ask of him.

  “Wendy West had such a dominating power over us. In fear of our own jobs, essentially we did anything she asked of us. I know it’s no excuse, but it is the reason, and I have felt terrible about it ever since,” he replied humbly.

  Dorothy did not immediately respond. She had mixed feelings about what he had said. She believed him when he said that he felt dominated and fearful of Wendy, because she had experienced that feeling herself. On the other hand, if he had felt so bad about it, he should have said something before now. Perhaps he was apologising only because he was concerned that Dorothy might very well become his manager.

  “How do you think this could affect us working together?” Dorothy asked.

  “Well, I would have to say that it could affect the possibility of us working together at all,” was his response.

  Dorothy considered what this remark could mean. Was it a threat?

  “I overheard two of the guys on the team discussing their decision as they left the meeting room, irrespective of the agreement not to do so,” he said. “They both were in agreement that they did not believe a woman could do the job.”

  Dorothy looked at him again in an attempt to determine if he was indeed a monkey or a man.

  “So what are you saying?” asked Dorothy.

  “That I think of the five people voting tomorrow, at least two of them are going to vote against you,” he replied, “and potentially I am the deciding vote.”

  “This isn’t a game, you know!” Dorothy pounced back.

  “Isn’t it?” he questioned.

  Dorothy felt herself becoming flustered and the rumblings of her road as it potentially crumbled beneath her.

  The platform was almost empty, and a train pulled into the platform. She and the man boarded and sat down opposite each other, uncomfortably.

  “So what do you expect from me?” asked Dorothy, holding back the bitterness she tasted in her mouth.

  “All I want from you is forgiveness, Dorothy, and for us to start again,” he said.

  The train emerged from the underground tunnels, and the bright orange evening sun shone brightly through the windows as the train headed east toward the coast. She slid her shoes back on, took her bag in her left hand, and stood up. She stuck out her right hand to the man and said, “Pleased to meet you. I’m Dorothy, and you are?”

  The man then also stood. He took her hand in his to shake it and said, “Pleased to meet you, Dorothy. My name is Will McLean.”

  The votes were counted the following day, and the decision was unanimous. Dorothy was recruited as The Organisation’s group financial director, reporting directly to the CFO. The role had never been held by a woman before, and Dorothy was proud that she had not only landed the role but had successfully climbed her way to senior management without compromising herself. Or so she thought.

  Two years later…

  CHAPTER 15

  The Discovery of Success, Unmasked

  Dorothy had worked long and hard throughout her career to achieve this degree of recognition. Her father had been right to tell her to stick to the path and that it would lead to success. For most people, the accomplishments Dorothy had now achieved would be considered success. Dorothy, however, could see where the path was headed, so she believed that success would only be hers once she reached the end of the road. It was the plan her father had for her all thos
e years ago, and now she had almost reached the horizon point.

  Dorothy’s office had a spectacular view of the harbour, not quite the corner office the CFO had, but impressive nevertheless. Dorothy had decorated the office just how she liked it. The walls were painted in coastal ivory. There was a cream leather sofa in the corner for informal discussions, a small round glass meeting table, and four beech and stainless steel chairs. A large pot stood by the door filled with driftwood branches.

  Dorothy’s favourite part of her office was the original oil painting that hung behind her head while she sat at her desk. The captivating scene was of an ocean at dusk, as the sun was just disappearing behind the distant horizon line of the ocean. The sky morphed from tangerine to apricot to green to blue, with scattered soft clouds that looked like pink cotton candy. In the foreground, a small flock of seagulls flew past in formation, while in the background a lone sailboat appeared to be travelling to a faraway land. Dorothy often found herself staring into the painting and daydreaming it carried her away to another time and place.

  The past two years as group financial director had been challenging for Dorothy. Working with the cranky CFO made things more difficult than they should have been, and having to meet the needs of the board, The Organisation, and the team that worked for her increased the pressure. Dorothy was also required to work incredibly long hours to meet the needs of the global business. This coupled with regular interstate and international travel had meant that Dorothy was distanced from her father and her dear friends. She knew they all understood the incredible demands of the responsibilities she was entrusted with, but it did not ease the pain of the loneliness she often felt.

  There was an impending corporate function for executive and senior management. A formal masquerade ball was to be held in the ballroom of an exclusive hotel. The invitation was made out to “Dorothy and Partner.” Through the years, Dorothy had attended many corporate functions, either alone or with one of her friends or boyfriend of the time.

  Last year, at her first corporate function while director, she took a boyfriend with her. They had been dating for six months, and although she thought it might have been too soon to invite him to a function like that, she did not want the other executive managers and directors to think she was a ‘spinster’, just as Wendy West had inferred on that harbour cruise all those years ago. The relationship with her boyfriend was already under strain as a result of the amount of time Dorothy dedicated to her job, so this event was also an opportunity to spend more time with him. The night began well, but a comment from one of the board threw the night and her relationship into a tailspin: “So, Dorothy, are there wedding bells in the future for the two of you?” he asked.

  Although Dorothy knew she wanted to get married to her Prince Charming one day, she could not see how falling in love and giving herself completely to another person could fit in with her career plan. The man’s innocent question (or perhaps not so innocent, she wondered) struck a raw nerve for Dorothy but also prompted a discussion she had been avoiding with her boyfriend. As her boyfriend pointed out to her later that evening, the relationship was not one of Dorothy’s priorities. The demise of the relationship followed.

  Dorothy was sure Scott Crow would jump at the chance to get all dressed up for the upcoming masquerade party. When she called to invite him, however, he said that he and Brian already had plans for a romantic getaway. She did not want to ask Trent again, particularly as he tended to despise fancy dress occasions. So she called Tim Woods to ask if he would escort her to the ball. Thankfully he agreed. She was even more grateful that Fiona Miller, who worked for another company now and would not be attending herself, was so understanding and was willing to lend Tim to her for the event.

  Dressed for the ball, Dorothy looked at her full-length reflection in the mirrored wardrobe in her apartment. Her powder blue chiffon gown draped off her bare shoulders, cinched in at her waist, and billowed out into a full ball skirt. Her hair was formally swept up to expose her long neck and long, diamond-encrusted drop earrings. Her masquerade mask was a beautiful, angelic half-mask with antiqued crackle finish, authentic silver leaf and lace. Sparkling crystals adorned her shoes. Her look was complete, right down to her French-polished

  nails.

  Dorothy’s phone rang and startled her. The taxicab was waiting for her downstairs. After applying a quick touch-up to her lipstick, Dorothy left for the ball.

  Tim lived on the opposite side of the city from the venue, so Dorothy agreed to meet him there. As the taxicab approached the hotel, she called Tim’s phone to check that he was on schedule and would be waiting for her. His phone was off, so she called his home number. After it rang for so long that Dorothy was about to hang up, Fiona answered the phone in a fluster.

  “Oh, Dorothy, I’m so sorry we haven’t called you yet. Tim’s daughter broke her arm late this afternoon at gymnastics,” she said. “Tim has been at the hospital, in and out of doctor and X-ray appointments. They are preparing her for surgery as we speak. I have only come by the house to collect some things,” she exclaimed.

  “That’s terrible, Fiona,” Dorothy said. “Of course I understand. Please give my love to them both.”

  Sitting in the taxicab in the valet driveway of the hotel, Dorothy paid the driver and, after the bellboy opened the door for her, stepped out of the car. Two hotel staff members were holding open the wide glass doors at the entry of the hotel for her. Striding through without a second thought, Dorothy found her way up the stairs to the ballroom on the mezzanine level.

  The ballroom was separated from the mezzanine-level foyer space by large mahogany doors, just like the ones she peeked through at the senior manager conference all those years ago. Although for a very different reason this time, Dorothy felt the same level of anxiety rise within her. Standing by the door were two hotel waiters dressed in masquerade, balancing trays of champagne and orange juice. After Dorothy tied her mask into place, she took a glass from one of the trays, and the waiters in unison pulled back the doors to the ballroom.

  The room was decorated like a winter wonderland, with sparkling fairy lights hanging from the ceiling, crisp white tablecloths, and white and silver dinnerware. The table centrepieces were dramatic white willow branches that spilled from glass vases filled with silver-coloured stones. The men she worked with and their wives paraded the room in their glamorous masquerade attire as waiters attended to their every need.

  The glittering room did not have the appeal she expected it to have. Here she was standing with her purse in one hand and a glass of champagne in the other and without anyone to share the experience with. Although she was now a director, the achievement felt empty. All these years she had thought that she had succeeded without compromising herself. Who had she been kidding? She had learned to play the game so well that she had lost all sense of herself and compromised everything to follow that path to success. “What success?” Dorothy thought. “What is success anyway? Is it this?”

  The glittery room suddenly appeared to dull. The laughter among the people inside seemed contrived as it echoed and intensified to a deafening level. At that very moment, Dorothy felt the need to escape.

  Dorothy left the hotel as quickly as she had arrived and found herself walking along the esplanade of the harbour. Dorothy was usually mesmerised by the harbour, but tonight she walked in a daze, completely oblivious to everything around her. After a while, she was embarrassed to realise she still had her mask on. She stopped by a pillar on a wharf to set down her purse while she untied the ribbon of the mask from the back of her head. In her haste, Dorothy had tied the bow too tightly, and it was now stuck in the curls of her swept-up hair.

  From the bridge of a nearby ship, The Captain Dorothy met many years ago was, by chance, again watching her from afar. To The Captain, she was just as beautiful as she had been all those years ago. What a coincidence that she was alone again on his wharf and needing assistance.

  Dorothy continued to struggle w
ith the ribbon of the mask and finally had to start extracting the pins that held her hair up, one at a time. As she did so, she heard a vaguely familiar voice from behind her say, “Here, let me help you.”

  Dorothy turned around to see The Captain warmly smiling at her. With an overwhelming sense of relief, she let go of the tangle in her hair and allowed The Captain to free her from her mask.

  Some time later…

  CHAPTER 16

  The Magic Art of Life

  Squashed into a small shop-front office on the main street of an inner-city suburb, the friends were gathered together for the first time in months. There were old venetian blinds on the windows, a few melamine desks, and tired old green carpet tiles on the floor. They could clearly hear the noise from the flow of busy traffic outside. However, you could also hear the excited chatter and upbeat background music from the inside.

  The group had a very special and momentous occasion to celebrate. Scott Crow resigning from his position at The Organisation. All of his friends and colleagues were here to support him.

  Scott’s strong beliefs in human rights and equal opportunity for all had inspired his interest in politics. For years, his friends had been encouraging him to consider running for government office. Finally Scott had decided that he was ready. He committed to his goal by quitting his job to begin his political campaign with the support of his partner, Brian. This shop-front office would be the headquarters for Scott’s political campaign for election.

  Watching Scott from across the office, Dorothy could see the joy and freedom he felt in the choice he had made. His feelings showed in the way he moved and interacted with others in the room. She knew he would be an ideal politician and would contribute a great deal to any community he served. She was extremely proud of him for having the conviction and belief in himself to take that leap of faith.

  Catherine Lyons could see Dorothy intently watching Scott across the room and walked over to join her.