“For an initial interview,” I continue, hoping that it’s coming off as nonchalant as I think.
His eyes sharpen, though his smile remains exactly where it is.
“Of course. Mario is in the building.”
“Can you let me know if he’ll be available at some point today?”
“I can ask,” he says.
“Please do. It would be helpful to understand priorities directly from the chief executive.”
“That sounds very reasonable.” I hear a bit of amusement in his voice, if I’m not mistaken.
I do not react.
At least, I hope not.
Talking to the CEO is pretty standard in situations like this, and I’m not sure if telling him as much would seem too defensive or not, so I settle for: “I appreciate it.”
His smile says he does not entirely believe that is the only reason.
I decide I do not like Lorenzo Conti nearly as much today as I did yesterday.
“I’ll have my assistant coordinate,” he says. “In the meantime, I’ll send over the first group of documents. Nothing overwhelming.”
I look at him.
He holds up one hand. “All right. Possibly overwhelming. But organized.”
“That I can work with.”
“I thought you might.”
He moves toward the door, then pauses. “One more thing.”
“Yes?”
“People here may be polite, but they won’t always be forthcoming.”
“I expected that.”
“I know.” His expression turns a little more serious. “That is why I’m saying this instead: if you need something, ask me directly. My office is right down the hall.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” I say.
He nods, then he leaves me standing in an office with a fantastic view, a sealed envelope on the desk, and the very clear understanding that I have stepped into something much more complicated than a corporate compliance review.
I wait until the door closes.
Then I exhale.
“Great,” I mutter to myself.
My voice sounds too loud in the expensive room.
I walk to the desk, open my briefcase, and begin setting out my laptop, notebook, pens, and the folders I brought from my office. Normal things. Practical things. Things that should help me feel grounded.
They do not.
