Page 84 of Caught A Vibe

I’m still reeling from the new perspective on our breakup. I can hardly keep up with the gear shift to the present.

“Of course I do,” I protest.

“How many emails a day do you get, asking for clarification or a decision on something?”

I hate it when she gets that know-it-all tone in her voice. I also hate that it prods me to answer in kind. “A lot. I’m the CEO. It’s my job to make decisions for the company.”

“No. It’s your job to set the course and trust your people to carry out your plan. Everyone is so afraid of setting you off by making the wrong call and bringing your attention to their office that they won’t work on their own. You keep reinforcing that with your insistence on doing the legwork on these new projects yourself.”

“I’m trying to save my company!”

How can she of all people not see this?

“You won’t have a company to save if you keep it up. You are so panicked about losing it that you are micromanaging it to death. You’re sending the message that they can’t do their jobs, so you have to. Morale is at an all-time low.”

“I just… I feel so fucking helpless to fix any of this. I have to do something.”

“That something might be to trust your team to do what they were hired to and let things calm down a bit before making any rash decisions.”

I slouch back in my chair, defeated. I wish I’d taken the time to make that coffee. “Is this what you talked about in the meeting?”

“Partly.”

“What was the other part?”

“I’m not going to tell you. Send me the list of things you wanted to work on, and I’ll distribute the tasks if I think it will help. I will table the ones that are just creating busywork for you to hide in.”

This is why it’s terrible to work with friends. They think they know what’s best for you and boss you around.

“Do I need to remind you that I am your boss, not the other way around?”

“I only call you boss to piss you off. It used to piss you off because you insisted you were part of the team, remember,” Nicola reminds me firmly. “Besides, everyone knows I actually run the company. You’re just a pretty figurehead.”

I scoff as intended, and I can hear her smile.

“Do you still trust me?”

“What does that have to do with anything?” We are wading into muddy waters, and I hate not being able to see what’s ahead.

“Do you trust me?” she repeats.

“With my life.” I do. I trust that she absolutely has my best interests at heart, even if she’s annoying me right now.

“Then let me do this for you. You’ve had a really rough day on top of a really rough few months. Take the weekend. Take care of you, okay?”

I want to argue with her. I want to take the control my subconscious is demanding to make the bad feelings go away. But I don’t, because deep down I know what I really need to do is fall apart. “Okay.”

“One more thing.”

“Don’t push it.” I stand and begin making the coffee I need, because I’m going to need it in earnest if this conversation goes on much longer.

“Don’t lose the life you started to enjoy just because Dash is gone. If I see you start to pick up your workaholic ways again, I’m calling bullshit and ordering in a puzzle and some tequila.”

I have to chuckle at that. It’s just so…Nicola. “That does not seem like a good combination.”

“I know you. You’ll start the puzzle thinking, ‘oh how fun,’ and then you’ll get super focused and competitive about it and not be able to let it go until it’s done. That’s where the tequila comes in, to get you dancing on the table because you no longer care about losing a puzzle piece or two, and finally relax enough to fall asleep.”

“That scenario is scary specific.” I can actually see the entire thing playing out, down to Callie deciding that the last corner piece is hers to chew on and me not caring after margarita number two. I pour the coffee in my mug and add my own cream and sugar.

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