"We never spoke about our jobs."
"We should've," she says. "I can't believe this."
I rub the back of my hand over my mouth to hide my amusement. She's not impressed by this, then. Weirdly enough, it makes me like this sarcastic, funny, intelligent enigma of a woman even more.
A lot of women like what I do. Never for what it entails, and they never want to hear the details, but they seem turned on by the SparkNotes version.
I open my mouth, but she cuts in with an irritated sigh. "I guess this means I can't ask you for advice anymore."
"Of course you can," I say. "Excited for your date on Friday?"
"I can't talk to you about that, you're my boss! My boss's boss's boss, probably. It would be wrong."
"We're the same people."
"No, we really aren't," she says, and opens her notepad again. This time, it seems like she's determined to keep it open, because she starts jotting down notes.
"I haven't said anything yet," I say.
"You've said plenty," she mutters. This time I don't try to hide my smile.
"What questions have you prepared?"
"None," she says. "I was told to head up as soon as I got the task, and that there'd likely be pre-prepared talking points."
Technically, there are. I have them in front of me on the desk, a set of bullet points the editor-in-chief, Wesley, had given me. Aspects of my leadership he thought would be good for company morale.
I don't look at the paper.
"It's better if you conduct the interview," I say. "You're the journalist, right?"
She shoots me a look that's dark with irritation. So she's annoyed that she can't keep texting me, then, or else she wouldn't have reacted this way. Oddly enough, that makes me glad. Talking to her had become one of the highlights of my day.
Odd, and unexpected, sure. At times a distraction from work.
But fun in a way I hadn't had with a woman in years. Fun without expectations or pretense.
"Fine," Audrey says. "I'll repeat my first question, then. Why did you want to acquire the Globe ?"
I lean back in the chair. I'll have to give her an honest, professional answer, even if the only thing I want is to keep riling her up. "Acture Capital has been looking for an opportunity in the media sphere for years. The Globe fit the bill. It's a paper with a strong history, solid human capital, and prospects. It was also struggling in areas that Acture felt could be amended."
Audrey nods, her head bent over her notepad. "Has Acture Capital, or yourself, worked with the media industry before?"
She knows what questions to ask. "It's a new foray for us," I admit, "but my partners and I are confident that the knowledge and capital we bring are up for the task."
"Right," Audrey murmurs, her pen working. "Why were you the one elected to become CEO of the Globe ? If you have partners?"
I put my hands on the edge of the glass desk. "I'm interested in the industry. It's worth preserving and protecting."
Audrey looks up from her notepad. I meet her gaze, seeing hesitation in hers. "You believe that?" she asks.
"I do."
"So you're not just here to turn a profit?"
"A good journalist knows how to make their subject feel at ease," I say with a grin. "I'm feeling a bit attacked right now."
"Attacked," she mutters, shaking her head. "You don't feel attacked at all."
"Honestly? I want to turn a profit," I say. "Of course Acture Capital wants that. So does the Globe , in fact. It hasn't for a long time, which is no secret to any of the employees who might read this newsletter. Feel free to put it in there."
"But you're slashing departments," she says. "Aren't you?"
I pause. "Where did you hear that?"
"Co-workers talk."
"No decisions have been made," I say.
"But you are firing people," Audrey challenges. Her eyes are blazing on mine. "I saw Phil from the music section just earlier."
Ah.
We're on tricky ground, here. I could explain my decision, but I won't do it if there's a chance it will be blasted to a company where the employees number in the hundreds.
"Tough decisions have been made," I say. "More will have to be in the future. Acture isn't here to decimate the Globe , though. We're not picking it apart. We have no plans to sell it for parts. The end goal is to make the Globe slimmer, more efficient, and equipped to handle the ever-changing media landscape. That's something I want you to put in the interview."
Dutifully, she notes it down. "Is that something Acture does a lot? When you acquire companies?"
"Make them better? Yes."
The look she shoots me isn't impressed. "Layoffs."
"If necessary, yes," I say honestly. "It's not a part of the process we enjoy, but organizations often have vestiges of previous takeovers, projects, re-organizations. Often times those can be a drain on a company's potential growth."
Audrey cocks her head. "Did you know? When we met at that bar?"
"Know what?"
"That I'd just been at the Globe for an interview that very day?"
This time, I can't hide my smile. "Do you think I personally vet every person this company hires? Because I can assure you, I don't have that kind of time."
It echoes the text I'd jokingly sent her earlier, after I'd tried coffee the way she'd pestered me to, saying it was the best. It wasn't. Like so many things, we disagreed.
She must hear it too, because her cheeks flush with color. "Right. Of course you don't."
"Go on," I say. "Ask me anything else for the newsletter."