Page 10 of Off the Post

I might have a tiny girl crush on my new boss. She’s breathtakingly beautiful, like right-off-the-runway gorgeous, but also incredibly gifted at her job and has a fantastic sense of humor.

Leanne Lee has a graceful, elegant manner and always appears completely put-together. Unlike me, who stares into my closet each morning wishing for a stylist genie to magically pop out and give me guidance. Most of my clothing consists of concert T’s and holey jeans. Not exactly professional office attire.

She smiles and bats her dark eyelashes, tilting her head in an innocent gesture. “Plus, chocolate is my savior during weeks like this.”

Finally acquiescing, I put down the tablet that’s been attached at my hip since I began and reach out for the dish that now sits between us. I pour a few in my hand, then pick up one piece at a time and nibble carefully. I’m not kidding when I say I don’t have an off switch with junk food. An open bag of chips and candy can leave me regretting my life decisions.

My reaction, though, causes Leanne to laugh out loud. She shakes her head and gives me a look that says We’ll work on this.

The first few days at the foundation—getting to know Leanne, the team, and the volunteers—has been one of the best experiences I’ve ever had in my career. Although I don’t want to hear an I told you so from Tanner, my big brother was right. This is my dream job, and I’m so happy to have been given the opportunity to prove myself.

In hindsight, I realize now how difficult and fraught with stress my previous work environment had been for me. There was no supportive supervisor like I have in Leanne. Instead, my former boss, Patrick, would constantly ride my ass, chew me out in front of others, and steal all credit when my work produced something good.

It makes me wonder what Leanne would have done or said if I’d made the same terrible mistake here as I did in my last job. Would she have penalized me and made an example of me in front of the other staff? Or would she have sat me down and coached me on how I could have done it better to avoid it happening in the future?

Based on what I know of her so far, the answer is clear. There is no way she’d berate me in public or steal my thunder. She is far too supportive of a leader. Her style of management wouldn’t have left me in tears, swallowed up by self-doubt and questioning my abilities.

Leanne brushes her hands in a gesture that says she’s finished and sets them down on the table. “Okay, let’s take a look at where we’re at with the schedule for tomorrow and the plans for next month.”

Most of the bigger events had already been planned out before I arrived but did not entail any action steps from me. Which means I’ve been doing what I love best in this job, and that is making shit happen. First up is the charity calendar photoshoot.

I scooch forward in my chair and open the tablet, clicking on my calendar and the notes I’ve jotted down for tomorrow’s calendar shoot.

“I’ve confirmed with the photographer, Joelle, and the stylist, Dante, that they will be at the studio we’ve rented in Granville near Yaletown at eight a.m. They will have all the props and backgrounds, and I ran out to the Dollar Store today to pick up a few additional items they’ve requested.”

Like baby oil.

When I questioned that request with Joelle, she only said, “It’s a necessity for these types of shoots.” Not wanting to look like an amateur by asking any further clarifying questions, I simply did what she asked and purchased ten large bottles of oil with the corporate credit card I was given on my first day.

In the past, I would’ve had to explain ad nauseum why this purchase was necessary. But I’ve been given complete autonomy at LTLFK and permission to use the company-issued credit card for events as I deem fit. The boost in self-confidence just that one expression of trust gave me was completely unexpected. It has instilled a sense of pride and ownership that I’d lost along the way.

Self-doubt has a way of creeping in and making you question yourself when your boss constantly micromanages your every move. This I know from experience.

Tapping my tablet again, I scroll through the notes for tomorrow’s event.

“I’ve gone through the list of the twelve players who have agreed to participate, as well as their assistants if they have them, and have sent out reminder emails. I will also reach out to each one personally by phone and text today to obtain their confirmations. And the marketing team has created alternate plans, just in case there are emergencies or no-shows.”

Leanne rubs her fingers at her temples. “Thank God you’re on top of this. Last year was a gigantic clusterfuck. We had to track down two last-minute substitutes because the missing players said they never received any updates and therefore didn’t show up.”

“Ack,” I exclaim, screwing up my face and shaking my head. “I certainly hope that taking the extra steps today means we’ll avoid any last-minute problems tomorrow. Unfortunately, we can’t always control someone else’s actions, but I promise, I have a plan to adjust for any late arrivals or missing models.”

“I have complete confidence in you.” She gives me a warm smile and a small nod. “Now, let’s talk about the other ideas you said you have.” She leans forward eagerly, pressing her elbows on the desk and steepling her hands together. I quickly flip through the notes on my iPad to find the ideas I’ve jotted down over the last few days.

The cool thing about this job is that I have complete autonomy, with a few exceptions, to find ways to fundraise and raise awareness for this foundation.

I tried to calm the butterflies that flutter wildly in my stomach, hoping she’ll be happy with these ideas and approve them. My last boss, Patrick, was always dismissive of any suggestions when I brought them forward, but I found out later that he was passing them off as his own in front of the board.

Without question, I know Leanne would never do that. But should something like that happen again, I won’t just suck it up again. I’ll stand up for myself and address it like the professional adult I am.

I inhale deeply, let out a slow breath, and begin to share my suggestions.

“The first one is an auction and fundraising campaign we could call Party at the Park: An Evening Under the Twinkle Lights.” I hesitate, peering up through my eyelashes, and wait for her reaction.

She props her chin on top of her steepled fingers and tips her head to consider this for a moment. “Go on. Tell me more.”

Encouraged, I continue, the quaver in my voice stabilizing as I explain my idea. “Well, in the spirit of Lighting the Lamp for Kids, this could be an event for all ages, possibly held at that big park across from the arena. We would have game stations hosted by the athletes set up around the perimeter. Each game would collect contributions through the Pay to Play. We could charge like a dollar or five dollars, whatever they want to donate. And then there would be a catered dinner, but more like a barbecue than a sit-down one. And, of course, a band, and maybe even a dance contest.”

Leanne claps her hands in excitement and support. “Oh, my word, that does sound like fun. I know my kids and husband would love it.”