The Boss Project

I shook my head. “Like I said, trouble usually starts at the top and trickles down.”

Merrick nodded toward the door. “How about you psychoanalyze me in my office so I can get settled in?”

I grabbed one of the notebooks from the drawer and stood. “Whatever works for you.”

Inside his office, he turned on all of his electronics and leaned back in his chair as they whirred to life. “I wasn’t so sure you were going to take the job.”

“I debated it for a while.”

“What was the deciding factor?”

“It was something Kitty said, actually.”

“Ah…my grandmother. The woman can be very persuasive.”

“She can.” I tilted my head. “Is that why you hired me? Because of my relationship with Kitty?”

Merrick shook his head. “To be honest, when you came in for your interviews, I didn’t know who you were, other than someone who’d applied for the job. I found out after the fact.”

“So you hired me because I was the least-competent person?”

He stared at me for a moment, then sat up and folded his hands on his desk. “I hired you because my gut said to. I rely a lot on instinct.”

I let that sink in a moment before nodding. “Okay. Well, thank you.”

“Any other questions about why you were hired, or shall we get started?”

I flipped open my notepad and clicked my pen. “I’m ready. Can we start with you telling me a bit about why your board decided an in-house therapist was necessary? I asked you that during our first interview, but you didn’t elaborate. It would be helpful to know the specifics.”

Merrick sighed. “We were sued civilly.”

“For?”

“Emotional distress. I believe the legal term was negligent infliction of emotional distress.”

I jotted down some notes. “Has the case concluded, or is this an active lawsuit?”

“Lawsuits.”

I lifted a brow. “How many?”

“Four. We won two, settled one because it was less expensive than going to trial, and the last one is still in the early stages. Though that case is bullshit. The guy is just lazy, but he was friends with the guy we settled with and thinks he can also capitalize on our generosity.”

“Anything else I should know about?”

“I guess I should also mention that there was a small fistfight here in the office recently, too. The board mentioned that as one of the determining factors in the mandate to hire someone.”

“Small? So two employees?”

Merrick’s lip twitched. “Eight. But it started as two. The others just joined in, taking sides.”

“Do you know what the fight was over?”

“Bonuses, who had the higher profit rate, whether a trade was a good investment or not.” He shook his head. “It’s always something, and it always stems from competitiveness. The people on the floor all make a good living. Most of them could retire by thirty, if they wanted to. Money isn’t what drives them; it’s being the best.”

“And what makes someone the best? I don’t mean how do you determine who did the best—obviously that’s a numerical test. But what qualities does it take to become the best broker?”

Merrick nodded. “That’s a good question. Being intelligent is a given. Most of the traders on the floor went to Ivy League schools and graduated at the top of their class. What sets the best apart? I’d say nerves of steel. You have to be able to tune out the noise around you and stay the course some days, and other days you have to take a risk that could lose you everything. You ever hear the saying, ‘You use the same boiling water to harden an egg that you do to soften a potato’?” He tapped his fingers to his chest. “It’s about what’s inside, not the circumstances you’re in.”