Page 107 of Mr. Hotshot CEO
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I’ve blocked off Sundaymorning in my calendar for “brainstorming.”
As in, brainstorming ways to get Courtney Kwan back.
I don’t know if this will work. Maybe I’ll end up being subjected to endless opera music and a parade of eligible Chinese women.
It better work.
Because I really love Courtney.
And I really hate Chinese opera.
I stare at the blank sheet of paper, then finally write down one thing: Call Naomi. Courtney’s close with her sister. Maybe she can help me.
But I think I should have some kind of plan in place before I get to that step.
I tell myself not to get distracted, but soon I’m turning on my laptop and looking through all the pictures again. I particularly like the one I took of her laughing when we were at Mosaic. She’s so luminous.
The photos give me one idea, and I write it down on the sheet of paper. Just looking at the word makes me groan, but itisa pretty good idea that requires only a little damage to my dignity and involves neither clowns nor a petting zoo.
However, I’m not a workaholic for nothing, and I write down forty-seven other ideas in the next hour. My brothers are right. I need to try.
I like a few of the ideas, but I think the key is to ask Courtney what she needs and listen to her. Develop a plan together to deal with her depression so I know exactly how to support her. Naomi might be able to give me some input, but I need to have a proper discussion with Courtney when neither of us is angry, when I really listen to everything she says. She’s the one who’s lived with this for years, which is such a painful thought, but it’s the unfortunate truth. She’s the one who’s developed strategies to deal with it. Not me.
I’m going to do everything I can for her, if only she’ll let me.
I realize now that, although I thought I was a hundred percent committed to this relationship before, it wasn’t quite true. I think part of the reason I struggled with my previous relationships is that I was subconsciously afraid to get too invested in someone, fearing it would take away from my work and my ability to be the responsible son. Even once I decided to give it a go with Courtney, some of that feeling remained.
But no longer.
I am completely committed to her. She is my priority, and that doesn’t scare me at all.
She also makes me feel like anything is possible. I know I can still do a good job of running the company; however, I won’t allow it to take over my life.
I’m going to need a little help, though. I have to stop trying to do everything on my own. It’s not possible. And besides, life is meaningless if I have no time for anything but work, and if I keep it up, I could easily burn out before I’m forty.
There’s something I’d like to talk to my dad about, and as luck would have it, my parents arrive at my door only five minutes later.
I want to have a chat with my father, but not like this. Not when my parents are loaded down with food and looking at me like I’m an injured wild animal.
“Vince said Courtney broke up with you,” Mom says.
“You don’t need to bring me a truck full of food. I can take care of myself, plus I already have a pot ofjook,thanks to Po Po.”
“The only girlfriend you’ve had in ages, and it doesn’t even last a month!” Mom clucks her tongue, then starts putting the food on the kitchen island. “But Vince says you’ll fix it. Please do. We like Courtney.”
“I’ll try.” I pause. “Dad, I have to ask you something. I’d like if you could come back to work—”
“Yes,” he says, before I finish.
“Thank heavens!” Mom says, looking up at the ceiling with her hands clasped.
“Just a couple days a week,” I say, “in an advisory position. Not full-time of course, andIwill still be in charge, but I could use some help. I don’t want to work eighty-hour weeks on a regular basis.”
I have a lot of responsibilities, and I’ll never work only forty hours a week, but I can do better. Perhaps it’s also time to consider re-organizing senior management. I’ll still be CEO, but I don’t need to be CEOandpresident. Someone else can focus on overseeing the day-to-day operations.
Dad nods. “I was bored at home. I have my work at the Toronto Chinese-Canadian Center, of course, but I still had too much free time. It was nice being back at the office. I don’t need to play golf five times a week.”
