One More for Christmas - Page 3

The shiny globe of Simon Belton’s bald head was just visible above the top of his cubicle. He’d arrived before her that morning, which had boosted her mood. He was a hard worker, if a little lacking in truly innovative ideas. Next to him sat Marion Lake. Gayle had hired her the year before as head of marketing, but she was starting to think the appointment might have been a mistake. Just that morning Gayle had noticed her jacket slung casually over the back of her chair, its presence indicating that Marion was somewhere in the building.

Gayle’s mouth thinned. When she gave people a chance, she expected them to take it.

Even now, after all these years, people constantly underestimated her. Did they really think she’d see a jacket draped over the back of a chair and assume the owner was somewhere in the office? There had been no coffee on the desk, and Gayle knew that Marion couldn’t operate without coffee. And the place had the atmosphere of a cemetery. Marion had a loud voice and an irritating compulsion to use it frequently—a flaw possibly related to the volume of coffee she drank. If she had been anywhere in the vicinity, Gayle would have heard her.

She often thought she would have made an excellent detective.

“Going live in three minutes,” one of the film crew told her, and Gayle settled herself more comfortably, composing her features.

She’d done hundreds of interviews, both live and recorded. They held no fear for her. There wouldn’t be a single question she hadn’t already been asked a hundred times. And if she didn’t like a question, she simply answered a different one. Like everything else, it was a matter of choice. They weren’t in control—she was.

In her head she hummed a few bars of the Puccini opera she’d seen the week before. Glorious. Dramatic and tragic, of course... But that was life, wasn’t it?

Rochelle smoothed her hair and cleared her throat.

“Live in five, four, three...”

The man held up two fingers, then one, and Gayle looked at the young reporter, hoping her questions would be good. She didn’t want to have misjudged her.

Rochelle spoke directly to the camera, her voice clear and confident. “Hi, I’m Rochelle Barnard and I’m here at the offices of Mitchell and Associates in downtown Manhattan to interview Gayle Mitchell—more commonly known as GM to her staff and her legions of fans—one of the most powerful and celebrated women in business. Her last book, Choice Not Chance, spent twelve months at the top of the bestseller lists and her latest book, Brave New You, is out next week. She’s one of the leading authorities on organizational change, and is also known for her philanthropic work. Most of all she’s celebrated as a supporter of women, and just this week was presented with the coveted Star Award for most inspirational woman in business at a glitzy event right here in Manhattan. Congratulations, Ms. Mitchell. How does it feel to have your contribution recognized?”

Gayle angled her head, offering her best side to the camera. “I’m honored, of course, but the real honor comes from helping other women realize their potential. We’re so often told that we can’t compete, Rochelle, and as a leader my role is to encourage other women to challenge that view.”

She smiled, careful to portray herself as approachable and accessible.

“You’re known to be a fierce advocate for women in the workplace. What drives that?”

Gayle answered, the words flowing easily and naturally.

Rochelle threw a few more questions her way, and she handled those with the same ease.

“People either love you or hate you. There seems to be no middle ground. Does it worry you that some people consider you to be ruthless?”

“I’m tough, and I make no apologies for that,” Gayle said. “There are people who will always be threatened by the success of another, and people who shy away from change. I embrace change. Change is progress, and we need progress. Change is what keeps us moving forward.”

“In your company you run an internship program with one of the most generous packages of any industry. You also offer scholarships. Why have you chosen to invest in this area?”

Because once, a long time ago, when she’d been alone and desperate, she’d vowed that if she was ever in a position to help someone like herself, then she’d do it.

But she didn’t share that. Such an admission might easily be seen as weakness. And how could they possibly understand? This girl sitting opposite her had never experienced the hard grip of fear. Gayle knew how deeply those claws could bite. She understood that fear could make you a prisoner, holding you inactive. Breaking free of that wasn’t easy. She was willing to hand a key to a few worthy individuals.

“I see it as an investment...” She talked a little more about the role she’d played fighting for the underprivileged and saw Rochelle’s eyes mist with admiration.

“Some people think you’ve been lucky. How would you answer that?”

Not politely.

Luck had played no part in Gayle’s life. She’d made careful choices, driven by thought and not emotion. Nothing had happened by chance. She’d designed her life, and now it was looking exactly the way she wanted it to look.

“It’s easier to dismiss someone as ‘lucky’ than it is to admit that the power for change lies within the individual. By calling someone ‘lucky’ you diminish their achievement, and the need to do that often comes from a place of insecurity. Believing in luck absolves you of personal responsibility. Whatever you do in life, whatever your goals, it’s important to make active choices.”

She looked into the camera.

“If you’re feeling dissatisfied with your life, find a piece of paper right now and write down all the things you wish were different. You don’t like your life? Do something about it! You envy someone? What do they have that you don’t? How do you want your life to look? Deciding that is the first step to redesigning it.”

Rochelle was nodding. “Your last book, Choice Not Chance, changed my life—and I know I’m not alone in that.”

“If you have a personal story we’d all love to hear it...”

Tags: Sarah Morgan Romance
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