The Calendar of New Beginnings (28 page)

His mouth turned up as he settled back in his chair. “Evan said you would call a spade a spade. I’m surprised you’d bring up Jill’s campaign to see you land this position.”

“As a human resources director, no one is more sensitive to issues of nepotism than I am.” Her bland stare did nothing to change the steady regard he gave her. “I want to be hired because I’m the best candidate for the job.”

“I’m glad we can dispense with the small talk then,” Chase said, tapping his finger to her resume. “You have less experience than I’d personally like to see for this position. Evan and I have a slightly different idea of the kind of director needed to successfully run the center. Most of your work has involved only human resources. I’m more convinced we need someone with more management experience.”

She’d expected him to raise this concern. “With my recent employer, Peterson Engineering, I significantly widened the scope of my work. While Peterson doesn’t deal with inventions per se, it does highly technical work. I had to be fluent in the jargon to be successful. I managed a staff of seven people directly and had indirect supervision over another thirty. Beyond approving staff hires, I was personally involved in the decision-making process for every senior management position.”

“Including your former boss?” he asked, crossing his arms over his massive chest. “I take it she’s the reason you resigned your position before you had a new offer in hand.”

Since Jill had told Evan all about her bitchy boss, she’d had no choice but to paint the full picture. Evan had been sympathetic. Chase wasn’t going to be that easy.

“I did everything possible to work with Taylor, but she wasn’t interested in cooperating. I concluded she saw me as a threat to her position. The situation wasn’t going to improve, so I decided it was in my best interest and the company’s for me to call it.”

“Did you recommend the company hire her when you interviewed her?” he asked, and darn it all if she wasn’t impressed with his line of questioning. She would have asked the same question.

“No,” she said, “I told them I was concerned she wasn’t a team player. I was overruled.” Their decision to hire Taylor had been a slap in the face.

“If your opinion was so valued by management, why didn’t they listen to you?” he asked, turning his phone over when the screen lit up with a text.

She appreciated him giving her his full attention, although right now she felt like the circus lion being nudged about by a lion tamer.

“They didn’t see what I saw,” she said, going for full honesty. “Taylor acted different with me when we were alone, which didn’t give me a good feeling. She didn’t even agree to give me two weeks to transition my work to another staff member before I left, which is customary.”

There was a knock on the door, and Chase called out, “Enter.”

A server brought forward a tray with a bottle of sparkling water, two glasses filled with ice, and a bowl of lime wedges. “As you requested, Mr. Parker,” the man said, setting the tray down beside them.

“Thank you,” Chase said, and Moira was happy to hear him say it. Many of the senior executives she’d known felt so entitled, they’d forgotten the meaning of politeness.

“I thought we could start with some water,” Chase explained as the server poured. “Of course, please order anything else to drink you’d like.”

If they were going to work together, he needed to loosen up a bit. She couldn’t work with such a starched shirt. “Even champagne?” she joked.

His eyes narrowed for a moment before he smiled. “As you wish. I have plenty of martini lunches in D.C. with the Defense Department. Government types never shy away from drinking when a contractor is footing the bill.”

The server was patiently waiting. “I’m good with water to start, but if you could bring me an espresso, I’d be most appreciative.”

After he left, she leaned forward conspiratorially. “Chef T makes really great espresso.”

“Personally?” Chase asked, looking more relaxed now. “I’m surprised he’s not off shooting one of his TV shows.”

“He’s here now, and he knows we’re meeting. Chef T is connected to our larger family.”

“The Hales. Your great-uncle is the legendary Arthur Hale, and everyone expects your brother, Matt, to be voted in as the new mayor this November.”

“We try and tolerate their presence,” she said blandly. “They’re both crusaders for justice in their own ways.”

He studied her. “And are you? Someone in human resources often has to right wrongs done to employees in a company. Have you ever had to fire anyone?”

“Of course,” she said, sipping her water after adding a lime wedge. “If they deserve it, I keep it short and sweet. If they’re being laid off, I keep a box of tissues on my desk, but I still keep it short and sweet.”

“I see a pattern.” His mouth quirked up, and it was hard not to notice the rugged planes of his jaw.
Fortune
hadn’t airbrushed anything. “I wasn’t sure what to expect after what Evan told me about you. He said you were really nice and funny.”

This time she rolled her eyes. “Showing off my intelligence to an inventor wasn’t really on the table. What was I supposed to do? Talk about the best way to structure a job description or create a human resources manual?”

Chase laughed, and it was one of those loud, gusty ones, which she found herself immediately liking. “Evan’s eyes would have glazed over the minute you said job description. I was the one who insisted I write one for my position. If it were up to Evan, he would have just hired me and let me do whatever I wanted.”

This time she was the one who laughed. “I have a feeling you probably still do whatever you want—even with a job description.”

“You’re right,” he said, chuckling darkly. “But Evan is the boss, and I try to remember that mostly. He and I—”

“Are perfect examples of complementary leadership,” she interjected. “Sorry, I got excited. I sometimes interrupt.”
 

He took a drink of his water. “No, I’m glad you aren’t one of those stiff, inflexible human resources types.”

“Oh, don’t mistake my good humor. If we agree on a job description, I’ll follow it to the letter unless we agree on expanding the scope. And if we have a manual in place for how to run the institute—”

“You’ll make sure every I is dotted and every T crossed,” he said, interrupting her this time.

She traced the rim of her glass, feeling the mist from the water’s bubbles on her finger. “I understand the importance of compliance, especially in a high-security facility housing people’s inventions. I wouldn’t be laissez-faire about that. Dare Valley might be a small town, but intellectual property theft is still possible. We don’t want someone walking in off the streets to steal some head-in-the-clouds inventor’s prize project.”

Chase lifted his glass and saluted her. “I’m glad you understand that. One thing Evan and I have always agreed on is the need to protect his inventions.”

“It’s important to protect everything from the ideas and the prototypes to the final inventions,” she said. “Evan explained the invention process to me in great detail. I assume you’ll have visitor and press protocols in place as well.”

He nodded. “Yes. Evan and I are still discussing the security protocols. He wants the institute to have an open and creative energy, but he recognizes most inventors are pretty tight-lipped about their projects. We’ve agreed to have low-profile guards and special access-only rooms beyond the high-tech security system I’ve finalized with our current provider.”

“But there’s also the danger that students might try and steal each other’s ideas
within
the institute,” she said, shaking her head. “Not everyone is ethical. We could create an ethical protocol and provide mandatory training for everyone in the institute.”

“I’m trying to persuade Evan to go a step further and make them sign a legally binding agreement about the use of their work and collaboration within the center.”

Moira had a hard time imagining Evan going for that idea, which would essentially give the institute an opportunity for legal action in the event of a breach of contract. “It’s a tough spot to be in, isn’t it? The institute’s inventors won’t technically be employees, but they’ll be doing important work that needs to be protected. You also don’t want anyone to use the institute’s resources to invent some new form of a chemical weapon.”

Chase set his glass down. “No, we don’t. Not all inventions are for the good of the world. Evan doesn’t like to sit in judgment over people’s ideas, but as an institute, we have a responsibility to ensure no harm is done.”

Moira uncrossed her legs and leaned forward. “It’s going to be an exciting give and take, especially in the beginning. Selecting people worthy of using the institute is going to be—”

“A pain in the ass,” Chase said, scowling now. “Evan doesn’t agree on the need for background checks in applicants.”

“Well, that’s just crazy! Of course you need to do background checks. You can’t let any Tom, Dick, or Harry into a place like this and give them access to the resources and support the institute plans to provide.”

He took a drink of his water, studying her over the rim of the glass. “I’m glad we agree on that.”

She could only imagine the power struggle that would erupt between Chase and anyone who stood in his way. Surely this was a man who was used to getting his way. “While we’re talking about agreements, I would need it to be clearer who I report to directly. Evan clearly will have a role as the creative genius behind the institute, and it sounds like he plans to work with inventors on their projects from time to time.”

Chase sighed, running his hand through his dark hair. “I’m dreading that part. I told Evan his first priority has to be to inventing for Quid-Atch, but he gets distracted by good ideas. It’s what makes him brilliant. Plus, he always geeks out with other inventors. So far, I’ve only witnessed this with Rajan Singh, the head of our R&D, and our team, but with this extra influx of people…”

“He’s going to be in inventing heaven,” she finished for him, smiling wryly. “He might have mentioned it.”

“You’re smart to ask who you’d report to,” Chase said, casting a glance at her resume. “But it won’t be so clear-cut. Evan will be the creative mastermind, as you said. Plus, he lives here now. He’ll want to do things we technically aren’t supposed to do. That’s why I’m going to be involved. Evan and I have been engaged in the battle between invention and management since we first met.”

She’d suspected that tension going into the interview. “I don’t want to be caught in the middle. I’m not eager for a lose-lose situation here, especially since it involves me relocating back to Dare Valley.”

Chase added another lime to his water. “I can’t promise easy waters every time, but Evan and I always figure out an agreement in the end. I don’t expect you to be a party to that.”

“If I were offered the job,” she said, looking him squarely in the eye, “I’d want there to be an agreement upfront about that.”

“There are always scenarios we can’t foresee,” Chase said, waving his hand. “Look at me. I’m sitting in Dare Valley, talking with you about a job at a new invention institute. Trust me, even though Evan’s like a brother to me, I didn’t see this coming. But we adapt. Evan
is
a genius and a visionary, don’t get me wrong. But he sometimes needs people to help him think through his plans in terms of practicality and budget.”

“Visionaries aren’t always the best managers,” she said, thinking back to one of her first bosses, who could rally a board of directors but lacked the strategic ability to lead the company into a new market.

“I also won’t be here 24/7,” Chase said. “I need someone who has a good head on her shoulders who can handle such issues on an ongoing basis.”

“You need someone who will keep the ship running, keep you informed, and keep the institute’s burgeoning reputation intact.”

“Exactly,” he said as another knock sounded on the door. “Your espresso, I presume. Enter.”

The server came in carrying her coffee. Chef T had certainly had a hand in making it—he knew her preferences, and there was a small jar of honey with a silver spoon on the saucer instead of brown sugar.

“You take your espresso with honey?” Chase asked. “That’s very Italian of you.”

She raised her brows. “What can I say? When it comes to some things, the Italians know best.” She refrained from mentioning the fine cut of his suit, but the unbidden thought prompted another issue they hadn’t discussed. “Beyond the ethics protocol and training, I hope you plan on including sexual harassment protocols and training. I’m not sure how many female inventors will be selected, but it’s important to make sure inventors with less than ideal people skills understand the law.”

She added her honey to her espresso and took a sip. Heaven.

“That’s serious human resource talk,” Chase said, “but I like it. Evan didn’t have good people skills in the beginning either, but he’s grown up. I expect we’ll be dealing with some inventors who have them and others who don’t. Inventors run a wide swath, I’ve discovered. And as for female applicants, I can say from our experience with Quid-Atch that there’s not near enough of them involved. Our R&D team is composed of mostly men since they still dominate the math, science, and engineering fields.”

“Unlike human resources, which boasts nearly all female employees,” she said, making a face. “Hopefully more balance will be achieved over time.”