I'm Fine and Neither Are You(76)

“And in each instance, you’ve been able to prove me wrong. That’s ultimately why I decided to ask you to come forward as a candidate. This position involves having hard talks and making your presence known. I didn’t think you had it in you, but you do, Penelope.”

This was a big compliment. I wondered why it didn’t make me feel better. “Thank you,” I said.

“You’re welcome. Needless to say, if you take my position, your salary would be considerably higher. Granted, you’ll have to ace the interview.” She regarded me, and I glanced down at my dress, which was a plain navy shift. “You’ll need to dress sharper. That’s doubly true if you take the job. I may be the only person who will say that to you point-blank, but that’s only because it’s absolutely true.”

I nodded.

“You’ll also have to acquaint yourself with some of the nuances of working with . . .” She pursed her lips. “The ultrarich. I know you do a stellar job with our wealthiest donors, but I’m specifically referring to the select few I don’t hand off to you and Russell, as they’re a very particular type, if you get my gist. And you’ll need to get used to being on the road several times a month. But I’m not leaving until the end of October. We would have a couple of months to noodle the details together. So, what do you say? Would you like to interview for VP of development?”

“Yolanda, I’m flattered,” I said slowly.

“But?” she said.

But I wanted to reduce my schedule—not expand it. Still, I knew it was the biggest opportunity of my career. “Could I see a write-up of the responsibilities the position entails? There’s a lot to your job that I don’t know about. I’m also curious to know what my salary range might be.”

Yolanda narrowed her eyes, and I steadied myself for some sort of reprimand. “I’ll inbox you that and the job link today. Dean Willis and I would like your application by next Monday.”

“Absolutely.” I stood. “Thank you. This means a lot to me.”

“Thank yourself, Penelope. You’ve been doing the work, and you told me to pay attention to that. This is all you.” As she stood and gave me a knowing smile, I took a minute to appreciate her preternatural poise and commanding presence. I wondered if I would ever be able to fill her shoes.

I wondered if I wanted to.



When I got back to my office, Russ was sitting in my desk chair. He grinned at me. “So, Yolanda tell you about your new job?”

I eyed him. “How did you know about that?”

“She talked to me last Friday.”

“Right. Then you know it’s hardly mine ,” I said.

“Oh, come on, Pen.” He spun in a full circle, then made a grand gesture indicating I could have my chair back. “Obviously I’m dying for the gig, but everyone knows you deserve it. Why don’t you look more excited?”

“Don’t I?” I said. There was no window to see my reflection in, but maybe I would put a mirror in my office. Or I could just take Yolanda’s.

“You’re going to apply, aren’t you?” he asked.

“I’m not sure yet.”

“You’ll have that sweet office, a massive corporate expense account, and a legitimate reason to be free of the ol’ ball and kids several times a month.” He grinned. “No offense, but you could get a new set of wheels, too.”

And a house with smooth ceilings and a bathroom on the first floor. We could sock away more than a few dollars for the kids’ college funds and max out our retirement contributions.

I knew I was supposed to be leaning in—these were important years in my career, and I wasn’t getting any younger. If what I’d read was to be believed, opportunities to vault myself to the next level would be few and far between.

But . . . I wasn’t so sure I wanted to upgrade my wardrobe and get a haircut that said business and perfect my ability to hobnob with the ultrarich.

I was equally unenthused about the possibility of working even harder , at least at this particular job at this particular juncture, and regularly being away from my husband and children. Because now I knew—really and truly knew in a way I hadn’t before—that it could all end in an instant. And if, God forbid, that happened, would I take my dying breaths feeling glad for getting a chance to fly business class?

Anyway, there were other things I wanted to do. Since Cecily and I had written the book about the girl in the magical forest, I had begun spinning another tale. It was still a glimmer of an idea, but I knew it would be about a child who had lost something dear to her. I needed the time—and yes, the mental space—to write it. And what about having evenings to read Sanjay’s book and being able to pick my kids up after school—especially given that I had just told them I wasn’t glued to my desk anymore?

“You’ll apply, yes?” I asked Russ.

“Obviously.”

“Good.”

“What about you?”

“I’m not sure,” I admitted. “Remember when we talked about how I wanted to be a writer?”

“Of course I do.”

“Well, I thought about that a lot while I was in New York. I need this job, but I need to make my own writing a priority again, too. Plus, I’ve still got a lot of stuff to work through.”