I blow out a breath. “Of course. The cookies. Go for it,” I tell them.
He’s on it like a predator to its prey.
Tearing through a box of gourmet cookies does a lot to release the tension in the room, though not all of it, since not a single person has ribbed me for losing the wager or made me present the box to Connor on one knee as part of my punishment.
Connor has stayed mostly quiet. When Ben slides the box toward him he simply says,Annie first.I retrieve my cookie of choice (chocolate chip—the one I know Connor will want) without making eye contact.
If he thinks he’s going to give me thelet’s pretend this never happenedspeech he can save his breath. I am already pretending. I have gone fully method in my new role ofwoman who never kissed the boss.I am about to win an Oscar forit.
While the boys chatter around me, I chance another look at him. His eyes jump to mine immediately, as if by looking in his direction I set off some sort of trip wire that alerted him to my presence. This time he gives me a reallook.One that I am at a complete loss as to how to interpret.
I’m seized with a new, evenmoreembarrassing dread than the one I’ve been feeling since yesterday afternoon. Does Connor feelsorryfor me, like he knows I like him, and knowsIfeel stupid about it? Does he want to make me feel lessbad?
No. Absolutely not. Nope, no way. I would sooner lie down and let a pigeon pluck my eyes out before I allow Connor to let me down gently. So glad we never had this talk!
With the cookies mostly demolished, conversation turns to the product department’s uptake of the dashboard. Or lack thereof.
Mostly, I pay no attention whatsoever, and instead torture myself with a moment-by-moment replay of the day out with Connor yesterday, growing steadily more desperate and indignant with each remembered moment.
If he didn’t want me getting the wrong idea, then pray tell,whydid he put his arm around me? Why did he saywewould come up with ideas for Shannon’s visit—which he probably won’t even help me with now, that jerk. Why did he even show up there in the first place? Why did he kiss me back? I didn’t imagine that; I know I didn’t. If he wants to pretend he was only kissing me back because he was surprised, then I will tell him he is a liar! He can only write off the first 1–2 seconds to surprise. The rest was intent.
“…something we could potentially look into further, but I’m not really sure. Do you have any opinions on that, Annie?”
Shit. I only came back into my body partway through John’s question and have no idea what he’s talking about.
“A few,” I say, acting as if I’ve been paying attention this whole time. “But I suppose it depends.”
“That’s true,” John agrees.
“We could ask,” Ben says, his tone suggesting he has very much thrown a cat among the pigeons here. “After all, at least one person at this table has a pretty good line into that squad.”
I take it he meansme.
“I don’t want to open that can of worms,” Connor says.
I’ll bet you don’t, Connor. I’ll bet you don’t. Well, too bad. “I’ll do it. Who do you want me to speakto?”
“Andy, ideally,” Ben says. “If we could get a better handleon why they think the dashboard isn’t matching the metrics on the other reporting tool, we might be able to fixit.”
Ah. This again.
“OK. I will try. Actually, I’ll go now,” I say, taking this golden opportunity to slip out of the meeting before I get stuck talking to Connor.
He tries to stop me. “You don’t needto—”
“No, it’s fine,” I say, resolutely avoiding his eye and addressing the whole room. “Andy and I are really good friends. He’ll tell me what’sup.”
—
Andy, as it turns out, is more than happy to unburden himself on the subject of the new dashboard and itsbullshit metricswhen I swing by his desk.
The way that Jotter tracked user engagement was a lot different from how Taskio does it with the dashboard—the end result being that a lot of features, like the template library, now show really poor performance.
Andy is convinced this is a conspiracy, and after a morning spent back in my old stomping grounds, the product department, I’m chagrined to learn he is far from the only one. The product leads—especially the Jotter product leads—still do not like this dashboard. They think it’s being used to squeeze themout.
Since my only real objective today isavoid Connor at all costs,I stay downstairs and talk to every product lead I can find. Considering it’s mostly a time-wasting exercise on my part, it’s also surprisingly fruitful. By the time I’m done, I’ve taken pages of notes on what the average product manager likes about the dashboard (nothing) and doesn’t like (the entire dashboard) andhave a few ideas of my own about how we can implement some changes to get them onside and keep Andy happy.
“I’ll talk to the guys,” I promise Andy. “There’s got to be a way to get some better metrics.”
