He laughed, waving me off. “I sent you an email about the intern with all her details and everything. If you kept up with your new management duties, you’d have been better prepared.”
I scanned through my memories. “When?”
“Last week, when I had IT forward all of Saunders’s emails to you. The intern was going to be Saunders’s problem, until he resigned.” He grinned, not bothering to hide the pleasure he took in my pain.
“Apologies,” I ground out. My frustration ping-ponged from Anders to me. Catching up on those emails was on my list of things to do… but the list kept growing. “There are hundreds to get through. Did you know all of Saunders’s projects are in crisis mode?”
“We think that’s why he resigned. Couldn’t handle the pressure.” Anders frowned and looked down at his steepled hands. “Can you?”
Taken aback by his directness, I flinched but quickly regained my composure. I was careful not to let the mask of confidence slip at work. The version of Lincoln they knew had earned their trust and respect. I planned on keeping it that way.
Anders leaned backward and sighed. “You know, Carden, I was surprised when I saw your application to take Saunders’s place. You never struck me as someone who’d want to manage.”
I didn’t.
But I could almost see my mother’s wide smile and hear the excitement in her voice when she spoke about it.
Besides, I didn’t like that Anders thought I couldn’t do it.
I stood. “It was a natural next step for my career.” My hand fell on the backrest of the chair and rubbed back and forth along the smooth fabric. “I’ll deal with the intern, but it took me by surprise. I haven’t shared an office with anyone since I was an intern.”
“Since you were the top engineer in our internship.” Anders moved his mouse, waking his laptop. “The only reason we kept you on your own was because you excelled that way, and it benefited the company. Managers can’t work alone, so if you want this job…” Anders’s gaze fell on my fidgeting hand.
I tucked my fist into my pocket. “I get it.”
“Now, off you go. Please read the email. We have scheduled meetings around everyone’s calendars to discuss the interns’ progress.”
With a final nod, I left his office. Thoughts rushed through mymind, replaying our conversation. There were so many other, better ways I could have handled that. I kept my head down and snaked through the hallway back to my office.
Thankfully, the intern wasn’t there yet. If this year’s internship followed standard procedure, she and the other interns would be stuck with HR for the next few hours as they learned about company policy and cyber safety and were forced to watch what was essentially a Simucon propaganda video about how it was the best firm in the world.
I closed my door behind me and let out a long exhale. On second thought, I should probably keep my door open, as I’d now be dealing with everyone’s problems as well as my own.
I opened the door. Nope. Too exposed. Cracked. I’d leave it cracked.
My focus was shattered. I grabbed my noise-canceling headset and slipped it on before reading my dreaded to-do list. My therapist insisted I create one every morning to help get into the right headspace before work or before doing anything that needed my limited attention span to cooperate.
I added a new task at the top of the list:Catch up on emails.
But catching up was hard to do when an unread email from my thesis supervisor piqued my interest. Resistance was futile. With a quick click, I opened the email.
Don’t forget the International Conference on Traffic and Transportation Engineering is coming up! If you can’t make it, I’ll present on your behalf, but I’m really hoping you’ll come. We need to catch up. I have a proposal for you.
I’ve also attached a few related papers. I thought you might be interested in my latest research… If only there was someone to help me finish it.
I bit back a smile. Professor Hahn was anything but subtle. After my research in pedestrian safety and social justice gained some attention, she was convinced I belonged in academia. But academia often led to lecturing, and the idea of being responsible for the transfer of knowledge was absolutely terrifying.
Besides, there was no way I could advance in my career at Simucon with one foot in academia. I needed to be more present. Especially if I wanted this promotion.
I opened the link to the International Conference on Traffic and Transportation Engineering in Los Angeles, about a two-hour drive from the office in San Diego. Judging from the sponsors listed, a number of important officials would be present. Those were the people who needed to listen. The ones who could make a difference.
There was no way I could miss this one.
I switched between tabs, back to the email from my professor. Attached at the bottom were the articles I’d have to avoid. If I opened one of them, it would send me on a deep dive about sidewalk widths, and I’d surface hours later. With the tight schedule I was on, there was no room for hyperfixation on the wrong topics.
Minimizing everything, I finally found the email sent to all the interns. And Anders was right, all her information was there.
Elizabeth Gordon-Bettencourt: Roads and Traffic
