Harper's Rules by Danny Cahill Page B

Based on what you’ve shared with me and what I’ve done in my career, I think I can make an immediate and significant contribution and would like very much to pursue this. What’s your schedule like?”
    â€œYou may not be going on the 17 th ,” Harper said offhandedly. “I’ll get back to you on that.”
    â€œThat’s your fix? Cancelling my only interview?”
    â€œYes, because the new information that requires you to change your compensation requirements is that you have two other companies who want to see you for similar positions, and you don’t want to make any commitments without hearing everyone out, this being such a career watershed for you and all.”
    â€œBut I don’t have two other interviews! I don’t want to bluff, Harper.”
    â€œI know, I wish you’d work on that. Don’t worry, I have two other companies I want to send you to, and I will use this fact to make it clear to Wallace that he will have to up the ante to attract you.”
    I felt a pout coming on. I was not getting my way. That’s never good for anyone near me. I am a world-class pout.
    â€œHarper, I want that job! I am going on the 17 th !”
    â€œCasey, it’s a strategy. You will get another meeting with Wallace. But we need to do it out of strength. And what if you don’t get the offer? What if they hire someone else?”
    â€œHe loved me, Harper. We connected. I know he wants to hire me.”
    How could I explain this to rational, emotionally detached Harper? He is writing a book about the analogy of relationships to work, and he doesn’t understand one of the most central parallels: I am a one-man woman.
    I don’t want any more interviews. I love Wallace, he loves me, and we are meant to be together. It already feels like cheating on him to go on other interviews.
    â€œHarper, I just want this to be all over.” Suddenly my throat hurt.
    â€œI get it. You want to cut a deal with Wallace right now, go on your date with Peter Bonetti tomorrow, and wake up Monday morning with a new commute and a ring on your left hand.”
    â€œSee, in my head it seemed hopeful and romantic. When you say it, it sounds crazy and pathetic.”
    â€œIt is neither, but that’s not how it works. Look, I want you to go to work for Wallace, but I want you to get the best possible deal because you’ll be living with it a long time; and remember, I’ve got money at stake here, too! A little trust, please.”
    I was being tested. I wanted so much to take him down, to let him know I knew he wasn’t charging Wallace a fee for me. “Funny you say that. Wallace asked me if I trusted you.”
    It was nice to see Harper, if not thrown, at least a little out of balance, if only for a moment.
    â€œHe did? I don’t . . . why would he ask that? How did that come up?”
    To be fair, he didn’t specifically ask me if I trusted Harper. We were already an hour into the interview. Wallace asked pointed and savvy questions about the sales process, the nuances of the product mix, and the market realities that were in play in each of the verticals. It was a detailed and technical examination of my experience. And then, out of the blue, he said, “So who do you trust, Casey?”
    I could think of several responses that would have satisfied him and served me well. But something about this kind and thoughtful man made me want to be straight with him. Being around Harper made you want to try harder, but being around Wallace Avery made you want to be better.
    â€œI’m sorry to say no one comes to mind. I don’t give up trust very easily, Wallace.”
    This seemed to sadden him. I could tell he genuinely wished what I had just said was not true. Then he gave me a smile that surely killed in his day.
    â€œWell, perhaps I will make it a goal to become someone you trust. I would like that.”
    â€œWhoa, that is a