He’s speaking of the CEO of Life Corp, Elisa Montgomery. Or ‘Lady Elisa’, as most of her employees call her, a nickname that definitely fits her royal demeanor.
A woman of extreme intelligence, she’s headed Life Corp for the better part of a decade, and for good reason. She’s a shrewd leader with exceptional judgment who surrounds herself with impeccable talent. I definitely count her among my mentors.
To say she rules Life Corp with an iron fist is an understatement, and it’s known to everyone that she does so in a paradoxical manner. On one hand, she loves to see her employees work together to inspire creativity and innovation. She’s generous almost to a fault with her reward when someone or some team comes up with a new idea.
On the other hand, if you piss her off or threaten her ‘tribe’, she’s scarier than a queen of Westeros. Then it’s not business, it’s a blood sport, and she’s not leaving the sands of that particular arena until she stands victorious.
Most of Life Corp’s competitors have learned to compete with us politely because of it. Because if you don’t? Lady Elisa will buy you out, absorb your company, and leave you on the nearest street corner. She’ll warn you once, then crush you like a fly.
Arguing over who’s right or wrong about a situation has been a consistent back and forth between River and me, stretching back to our early days. It’s what makes us great friends and even better people. I push hard on something, and Riv always pushes back. We challenge each other to be greater and recognize that together, we’re both more than we’d be alone.
It was during our sophomore year in college, forced together as partners by proximity in the small Modern Business Technology classroom, that we came up with an idea that has changed both of our lives. Friendzone, a social media app.
What began as an assignment to create a profitable product or service, research it, and attempt to see it through to fruition really seemed possible with us both working on it with full focus. We did everything we could, crowdfunding to get capital to outsource what we couldn’t do ourselves and learning what to do and not to do along the way.
We had dreams of it being an instant hit, taking off like a rocket, with us becoming self-made millionaires before the ink dried on our diplomas. The truth isn’t nearly as impressive, but what Friendzone did do was get the attention of Lady Elisa. Though we weren’t competitors, and we thankfully didn’t get squished like a bug, Elisa worked us like the newbie businessmen we were, buying Friendzone from us for a reasonable price and offering both River and me jobs at Life Corp.
Not being my own boss chafes sometimes, but I realize that I have a lot to learn, and getting first-hand business experience at Lady Elisa’s side is worth the time I have to put in paying my dues.
Especially when she agreed to foster and fund our latest app idea, BlindDate. River and I have been busting ass on it for over a year, and we went live a month ago. And now, it’s time to face the music and get Elisa’s take on the success or failure of our launch.
“Just remember,” Riv says as we leave my office, “you’re good enough, you’re smart enough, and dammit, people like you.” His hyper-earnest tone is annoying in a smile-inducing way, but I fight it and instead snort derisively because he’s not exactly correct.
I’m a bit of a pessimist, someone who doesn’t expect the zombie apocalypse, but at the same time, I’ve got a bugout bag ready in my SUV . . . just in case.
And if anyone knows how hard I am on myself, it’s River. No matter what I do, it’s not enough. If we hit expectations, we should’ve exceeded them. If I succeed, I could’ve done it sooner, better, somehow more. I’m capable of it if I put one hundred and ten percent in. Admittedly, I’m hard on the people around me too, expecting just as much from them.
Detail-oriented, focused, driven, hard-edged. These are traits you want in a boss or employee, but not necessarily in a friend.
We take the elevator all the way to the top floor where there are only two suites, the boardroom and Lady Elisa’s office. I mentally plan for the day this suite will be mine. I’ll change the carpet and chairs and move the desk so that I have the window at my back instead of my side the way Elisa prefers.
But that day is a long way off from where I currently am.
“Hey, Tina, Gina,” Riv greets Lady Elisa’s two executive assistants. Yes, two. One personal, one professional, equally smart and Pitbull-tough, and both at Elisa’s beck and call twenty-four, seven.