“No one else says this!” he keeps exclaiming. “No one else— Carry on. Don’t stop. What else?”
His questioning is persistent but exhilarating, because he gets it. He’s quick. He’s expressive. When I describe an inefficiency, he sucks in his breath. When I mention a frustrating incident, he smacks the ground in empathy.
At first I try not to mention Asher by name. But it’s harder and harder to keep saying “the management” or “it was decided” or “the powers that be.” So in the end, I just come out with it.
“It’s Asher’s fault,” I say bluntly, as I describe the department understaffing. “He has terrible rows with staff. Then he hides in his office and won’t recruit replacements. And then when he emerges, he launches yet another stupid, gimmicky initiative. It’s all just big talk.”
I can’t believe how openly critical I’m being of Asher, and I’m half-expecting to get slapped down. But God, it’s a relief to speak the truth. Finally. To someone who gets it.
Lev winces every time I mention Asher, and I find myself wondering how Kirsten and I would manage running a company together. Probably terribly. We’d probably kill each other. In fact, we would kill each other. So this is a good warning.
“And he won’t listen to you?” says Lev, picking up a pebble from the beach.
“Listen?” I echo incredulously. “Asher doesn’t do listening. If you complain, his henchwoman Joanne refers you to the online aspirations mood board. It’s part of the joyfulness program.”
I know I sound snarky. I’ve possibly moved on from “useful, professional feedback” to “borderline bitching.” But so what? It’s true. Just remembering it all is giving me the heebie-jeebies.
Lev is silent for a few moments, staring out to sea with a strange look. Then he nods, as though he’s decided something, and turns to face me.
“I’d like to apologize for your experience at Zoose, Sasha. It was—it is—a travesty. We should not have lost you.” His face crinkles with incredulity. “Am I right, you actually ran away from the office and crashed into a brick wall?”
“Oh, that,” I say, feeling a bit mortified. “That was no big deal.…”
“You had to go to hospital?”
“Well, you know. It was precautionary.”
“You decided to become a nun rather than work for Zoose?”
I feel a jab of embarrassment. Was every humiliating detail of my little episode noted and shared with the whole company?
“Nun was just an option I was exploring.” I try to sound casual. “I needed a break, really.”
“But you didn’t just have a break,” Lev replies. “You quit completely. Why? Why quit?”
He gazes at me expectantly, as if he’s hanging on my every word. As if he’s trying to solve a puzzle. As if he’s asking not as a boss but just as a fellow human.
“I had to change things,” I say frankly. “I’d been too afraid to. I was clinging on to the status quo, even though things were getting worse and worse. Once I took action, it was scary—but then I felt released.”
Lev nods several times, his eyes distant. And I wonder: What puzzle is he trying to solve? Is it the puzzle of himself? Of Zoose? If it’s that, I can tell him at least one obvious answer. Finn realized it too.
But maybe firing his brother is even harder for Lev than quitting my job was for me. I feel a wash of sympathy for him, because, let’s face it, having Asher as your brother must be bad enough to start with.
“It can be hard to take decisive action,” I volunteer cautiously. “Especially if it involves … maybe … a family member.”
Lev glances defensively at me, and I keep a neutral expression. I’m trying to convey safe space and I think he gets it, because he seems to relax.
“I know Asher is—” He breaks off, looking despairing. “Suboptimal. But he’s been there since the start. He’s my brother.”
“It must be difficult,” I say, and Lev gives a weird little laugh.
“Between you and me, everything’s difficult.” He stares at the horizon, exhaling slowly. “Growing a company as fast as we have is incredible, fantastic, wonderful—but terrifying. You need to find more capital. Look after your existing business. Find new customers. All at once. It’s relentless.”
There’s a note in his voice I recognize. It reminds me of someone, only I can’t place it.… Then, with a jolt, I realize. He reminds me of me. He sounds overwhelmed.
“I think Zoose is in great shape generally,” I say. “The concept, the profile, the sales … oh my God! It’s a massive success story. Let’s just say a couple of individuals have bent it out of shape here and there.”
“I need to get rid of Asher.” Lev stares ahead, his face taut. “I know it. I’ve known it for a while. But I don’t want to know it.”
“If it makes you feel any better,” I venture, “I told someone here about it, a consultant. He agreed.”
Lev is silent, and I wait breathlessly, wondering if I’ve overstepped the mark.
“I don’t know if that does make me feel better,” he says at last. “But it may do later. So thank you.”
I don’t have anything else to say, and Lev seems lost in thought, so we sit in silence, the sea crashing endlessly onto the sand and the gulls crying overheard. After a while I sense Lev relaxing.
“Thank you, Sasha,” he says. “For your time. And your wise words. We didn’t speak much while you were at Zoose, and I’m sorry about that.”
“I’m not sure I had any wise words at Zoose,” I say honestly. “I was too frazzled. But since coming here, I’ve had time to think. Just watching the sea … It gives you answers.”
“I hear you,” says Lev, his gaze on a high, cresting wave. “It’s spectacular. Is this what you’ve been doing every day, watching the sea?” He checks himself. “I’m so sorry. What am I asking? It’s none of my business.”
“It’s fine—” I begin, but he shakes his head fervently.
“No, I apologize. Bad enough that I drag you away from your beach yoga, sit you down on the sand, and make you talk about your least favorite company in the world. Now I’m asking intrusive questions. No wonder you left Zoose.”
His manner is so charming, I can’t help smiling.
“First, Zoose is not my least favorite company in the world. I was very proud to work there. It just didn’t … gel. And second, yes, I have been watching the sea. And walking. And all kinds of things.” A tiny smile comes to my lips before I can stop it.
Falling in love. Rediscovering sex. Standing tall on my own two feet.
A breeze catches the back of my neck and I shiver, whereupon Lev leaps up.
“You’re freezing!” he exclaims. “I’m so sorry. You’ve been very helpful, and now I must let you get on with your day. I do have a big favor to ask, though. Would you speak to a few other directors about everything we’ve discussed?”
“Yes.” I nod without hesitation. “I’d be glad to.”
“They’re in Somerset at the moment, about an hour away. We’re having a mini-conference. Would you come there tomorrow? I’d pay you a consultancy fee and travel expenses,” he adds.
“A consultancy fee?” I stare at him.
“I would be consulting you,” says Lev. “It’s customary.”
“Well … OK.” I smile at him. “Yes.”
“Great.” Lev smiles back. “Thank you. I’m very grateful.”
We begin walking back toward the Rilston in companionable silence, and I feel a fresh whoosh of disbelief as I think, I’m walking along the beach with Lev. When I think of the frustration and rage I felt when I couldn’t get to speak to him at the office, three floors up … And then he came all the way to Devon to find me!
As we near the Surf Shack, I see that it’s open. A guy I don’t recognize is on the deck, sweeping sand off it, and I realize this must be the new owner.
“Hi,” I greet him.
“Hello!” He gives me a twinkly smile. “Want to rent a board?”
“Not right now.” I smile back. “But maybe later. I used to learn with Terry,” I add. “I’m Sasha and this is Lev.”
“Hello there.” He shakes our hands. “I’m Sean. Terry’s around, if you want to say hello?”
“Yes!” I say eagerly. “I’d love to!”