I look at the phone. I guess it is.
Monday, 9:10 a.m.
I reread Richard’s reply to my Hyphen news.
Good work, the email says.I know I can trust you with our most unconventional clients.
I’ve got two wins here:good workandtrust. Then we haveunconventional. That’s a problem, since Richard is not a man who appreciates any deviation from the norm. He won’t even wear a tan suit. Only black, gray, or navy, and the fanciest his tie gets is diagonal stripes. For him, a good client is an established one, like an oil company, where everyone around the table looks like him. It occurs to me that getting Hyphen might have potentially damaged my reputation. What if I pigeonhole myself as someone who can only handle quirky clients?
No, I’m reading too much into an email that probably took Richard twenty seconds to write. I’ll stick with the plan to show what I can do with clients like Luxe and Hyphen. I’ll do so well, Richard will fast-track me to partner. Beaconsmith is my brass ring, a high-status client like the ones that fill the dockets of others in the firm, and Hyphen will help get me there.
Monday, 10:38 a.m.
Another email from Dad about bringing an entrepreneurial spirit to the corporate office. He’s added:Start joining meetings even if you aren’t invited. Shows resourcefulness.
Or a stunning lack of judgment, but there’s no point in telling him that. He’ll say I need more confidence. I email back:Thanks, Dad! Great tip.
In the hall, Brittany calls out to someone that she’s on her way but to go ahead and start the meeting while she gets a coffee super quick.
I don’t bother to read the attached article.
Tuesday, 12:48 p.m.
Jihoon:Where is the bleach?
Me:Under the bathroom sink.
It takes three minutes until curiosity gets the better of me.
Me:Why?
Jihoon:I need to clean the hair dye.
Me:The what?
Jihoon:You know that tile in your shower?
Me:Yes, it’s white.
Jihoon:It was white and I promise it will be white again soon.
Me:Send me a photo.
Jihoon:…
Jihoon:Best not.
Me:Jihoon.
Twenty minutes later:
Jihoon:Where do I buy more bleach?
This time I send that cat GIF. It’s crying.
Tuesday, 5:31 p.m.
Brittany pokes her head in my door without knocking. “You coming for drinks?”