Page 17
Story: The Ex Factor
She shrugged noncommittally.
“We can’t afford that amount, Ms. Bhatia. We need to somehow survive in this economy.”
“You lease four floors in this building, and I’ve heard you’ve been scouting another location for a satellite office. I’d say you are more than surviving the economy.”
That knocked me off my game. She was good. I had made some very discreet inquiries about another space, and if she knew that, she was terribly well-connected. But instead of being annoyed at her for doing her research or embarrassed that she had better connections than me, I found myself genuinely impressed. She was certainly running this meeting, and she knew it.
“I can’t agree to the amount you’re paying, Mr. Rao.” It didn’t escape my attention that the way she addressed me—her tone—was more formal than was warranted by the situation. I wondered if it was just in keeping with the professional context of the meeting, or an attempt to create distance between us.
“You need to come up with a better number. I don’t do these kinds of meetings. Our office takes care of that. I am extending a friendly hand here. This is a lot of prime real estate, and Walter told us you are a good person. We’d hate to lose you.”
“Walter is also a good person.” I leaned back in my seat and interlaced my fingers. “That’s why he’s losing in this cruel world.”
Her face hardened. “Me, on the other hand…cutthroat, maneater, all the B, C, and F words. I’ve heard them all.”
She looked fiercely into my eyes.
“I wouldn’t say that,” I said with a crooked smile.
“Whatwouldyou say?”
“Astute, smart, assertive. A woman who knows her business interests,” I offered, leaning back in my chair.
She was visibly taken aback. Her mouth gaped a little, and her body leaned back.
“I wasn’t expecting that,” she said softly.
“I wasn’t either. Coffee?”
She shook her head. “No, thank you.”
I steepled my fingers. “What’s the F word?” I asked with authentic curiosity.
It surprised her, and she reacted with a short laugh. “You know the one. Feminazi. Used for every woman who knows how to effectively speak her mind.”
“Ah, that one,” I said.
“And since you didn’t ask about the other alphabets, I suppose you know which ones I’m talking about.”
Sadly, I did know those. I nodded.
“How do we break this impasse?” I asked, returning to the issue at hand.
“Come up with a reasonable number.”
“I’ll check with my accounts department and see what we can afford. I hope you will honor our offer.”
“If it’s reasonable. Please ask around, Mr. Rao, we’re really not fleecing you. That’s not what we do. We need to survive too.”
“I was told you are real estate royalty. I think you’re also more than surviving.”
That earned me a smile. “Reasonable number,” she said, “and we’ll talk again.”
Remember I said I wasn’t much of a hard-ass? Well, she was! And she had me completely floored. The woman who had wept in my arms last night wasn’t the one sitting across from me rightnow. Or perhaps she was but had learned to masquerade her deepest emotions too well.
“I’ll see you to your car,” I offered as she rose.
“Thank you, but I’ll be fine,” she said, and I walked with her to the elevators as a professional courtesy.
“We can’t afford that amount, Ms. Bhatia. We need to somehow survive in this economy.”
“You lease four floors in this building, and I’ve heard you’ve been scouting another location for a satellite office. I’d say you are more than surviving the economy.”
That knocked me off my game. She was good. I had made some very discreet inquiries about another space, and if she knew that, she was terribly well-connected. But instead of being annoyed at her for doing her research or embarrassed that she had better connections than me, I found myself genuinely impressed. She was certainly running this meeting, and she knew it.
“I can’t agree to the amount you’re paying, Mr. Rao.” It didn’t escape my attention that the way she addressed me—her tone—was more formal than was warranted by the situation. I wondered if it was just in keeping with the professional context of the meeting, or an attempt to create distance between us.
“You need to come up with a better number. I don’t do these kinds of meetings. Our office takes care of that. I am extending a friendly hand here. This is a lot of prime real estate, and Walter told us you are a good person. We’d hate to lose you.”
“Walter is also a good person.” I leaned back in my seat and interlaced my fingers. “That’s why he’s losing in this cruel world.”
Her face hardened. “Me, on the other hand…cutthroat, maneater, all the B, C, and F words. I’ve heard them all.”
She looked fiercely into my eyes.
“I wouldn’t say that,” I said with a crooked smile.
“Whatwouldyou say?”
“Astute, smart, assertive. A woman who knows her business interests,” I offered, leaning back in my chair.
She was visibly taken aback. Her mouth gaped a little, and her body leaned back.
“I wasn’t expecting that,” she said softly.
“I wasn’t either. Coffee?”
She shook her head. “No, thank you.”
I steepled my fingers. “What’s the F word?” I asked with authentic curiosity.
It surprised her, and she reacted with a short laugh. “You know the one. Feminazi. Used for every woman who knows how to effectively speak her mind.”
“Ah, that one,” I said.
“And since you didn’t ask about the other alphabets, I suppose you know which ones I’m talking about.”
Sadly, I did know those. I nodded.
“How do we break this impasse?” I asked, returning to the issue at hand.
“Come up with a reasonable number.”
“I’ll check with my accounts department and see what we can afford. I hope you will honor our offer.”
“If it’s reasonable. Please ask around, Mr. Rao, we’re really not fleecing you. That’s not what we do. We need to survive too.”
“I was told you are real estate royalty. I think you’re also more than surviving.”
That earned me a smile. “Reasonable number,” she said, “and we’ll talk again.”
Remember I said I wasn’t much of a hard-ass? Well, she was! And she had me completely floored. The woman who had wept in my arms last night wasn’t the one sitting across from me rightnow. Or perhaps she was but had learned to masquerade her deepest emotions too well.
“I’ll see you to your car,” I offered as she rose.
“Thank you, but I’ll be fine,” she said, and I walked with her to the elevators as a professional courtesy.
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