Managing Expectations

This story was written for the event, "Welcome To The New World." qhml1 came up with the concept. The instruction given was, "The only parameter is write what you want about a relationship where the woman is very successful and seduced by power."

I interpreted that as, "I'm tired of all the stories where powerful with no morals lure unsuspecting women into debauchery. We should have stories where powerful women get to have just as much fun."

It's possible I'm bad at nuance.

It's a pleasure to be included in a group of my betters and I feel like the guy that crashed the party to be included among the other authors in this event. Please check them out if you are unfamiliar with them, you won't be disappointed.

My job is advertising. That was also true five years ago when I received a tutorial in the fine art of corporate management. I like to think I am very creative. Others seemed to agree, since I'd won awards. What I hadn't done though, is advance through the company. I'd gotten my share of raises and bonuses, but joining management didn't seem like it was on the horizon.

While getting passed over more than once had left me feeling slighted, my younger (by two years) and more impatient wife, Belinda, was angry. We'd had a version of the same conversation since I'd first been passed over for promotion in favor of someone I felt was less qualified.

"Ben, you're 32 years old. You can't just wait for things to drop into your lap. You need to push."

By the way, I'm Ben. Ben Falk. The latest catalyst for this conversation was that one of the team leaders in our agency had just been promoted, and that left an opening. I felt I was the logical choice as a replacement, but I'd felt that way before. Being a team leader was the first step up the management rung.

"It will happen. Even if not this time it will eventually."

"They are going to keep you in creative as long as you let them. You either need to get them to appreciate you or find a company that will."

There was definitely truth to what she was saying. I didn't want to be in the same place in ten years. I hadn't really expected to be in the same place as long as I was. That certainly wasn't what I'd told my wife when we were dating seven years earlier. I had a vision of where I was going to be in the future and had shared that with her.

As I often did, I tried to soothe her by pointing out the positives. "I do make quite a bit of money. We have a nice house, we take vacations and we can certainly afford children. I also am valued there, so my job is relatively secure. That's more than many people we know can say." I sometimes have an uncanny knack for saying exactly the right thing to piss her off at times. This was one of them.

"This nice house we bought so we could start a family? You mean this one?" There was an unpleasant edge to her voice. She kept going. "Those vacations we take where we reconnect because you spend so many late hours at the office when you have a deadline? Those few weeks a year where I get to see my husband for any length of time? Those vacations?"

I didn't have a chance to answer her rhetorical questions because she was on a roll. "These children we've talked about. Should I just go off the pill now and let your little swimmers finally reach the finish line so nine months later I can be in a hospital in labor wondering if you're going to even be there for the birth of our child, or if Pepsi once again needs my husband to rework another Super Bowl ad that they loved the day before?"

Things like that had unfortunately happened too often. I'd think a client was pleased with the end product and I'd have a much needed break from late nights and weekends in the office, only to discover that "just ironing out a few wrinkles" would turn into another month of the same. I certainly got paid a lot of overtime but Belinda did have a point. Some weeks, it seemed I saw my office more than my home. I'd even slept there on occasion.

She was still going strong. "And when the baby wakes up in the middle of the night and I'm exhausted and reach over to ask you to handle it, oh wait! I can't be sure if I can do that because you might be asleep at the office." Sometimes I think that woman can read my mind.

One thing I couldn't stand was to having my wife upset with me, and she was as upset as I'd ever seen her. I had fallen in love with Belinda the moment I met her and that feeling had only gotten stronger while we dated, got married and built a life together. That building seemed to have stalled. I loved bringing a smile to that woman's face.

I just said, "You're right. I'll fix this."

After that I just held her for a while in silence. She didn't ever stay mad at me long. Part of that was that I was so eager to alleviate any concern she ever had. Another part was that whatever she was upset about was usually easily fixed. This one wasn't. It was going to require her to have a faith in my words I didn't even have myself. I did have a reason for optimism though.

I had been specifically requested to go to a meeting in Aspen, Colorado. I saw this as a chance to impress my boss's boss, Madeleine Fairbanks. She was the one who had requested I go to present the creative ideas for a new television ad campaign to a new client. I was the only one from my department going. It would be a chance for me to have some time to present my case for promotion to Madeleine.

I left for Aspen on a Monday and had a return flight booked for Saturday morning. I was there as part of a group to impress a single representative by the name of Jeff Brown. The flight in was uneventful, as was checking into the hotel. Once I got my bearings and got settled, I called Belinda as I always did when I traveled.

"Hey baby, how was the flight?"

"On time both ways," I said.

"Good. Will you get a chance to talk to Madeleine tonight?"

I'd let Belinda know who Madeleine was and how impressing her might be helpful to both of us. "We'll all meet for dinner so we can be on the same page. I really don't know if I'll get an opportunity tonight to talk to her about the promotion."

"Okay baby, I trust your judgment on the timing. Just don't let the week go by without finding an opportunity. Make one if you need to."

I said in my most henpecked voice, "Yes, dear." It was a voice I used from time to time. She always laughed and that call was no exception. I could tell she was still a bit stressed and likely would continue to be until I could say I'd had "that conversation." We talked a bit more and I promised to call her before I went to bed.

At dinner with Madeleine and the rest that night, it went as I had predicted. Well, Madeleine did insist we all call her "Maddy," so I could with some honesty tell Belinda that night I was getting closer to her. Maddy ran though the schedule. Maddy and I were the first ones scheduled the next morning to meet with Jeff Brown, so naturally I'd be in bed early while the rest of the gang could unwind for the evening if they so desired. My evening concluded with a call to Belinda and an exchange of "I love yous."

The meeting with the client seemed to go well, at least from my point of view. Jeff Brown seemed to be impressed with my ideas for the new television campaign. He was at times downright effusive with his praise and reactions. Fortunately Maddy was there to hear every word. She smiled approvingly in my direction. If there was ever a time to sell Maddy on my virtues to the agency, this seemed like it.

My total presentation only took two days. Jeff Brown still needed to meet with Maddy and the contract guys over the next two days, but my part was basically finished. I was just there with a few days to kill and on standby in case Jeff had any need for a follow-up. I called Belinda after the last day of my presentation to let her know I'd crushed it.

She sounded excited. "That's great baby. So did you talk to her about the promotion?"

"I didn't get a chance to." I swear I could almost hear the air go out of her.

"Well when do you see her again?" There was no trace of her previous excitement.

"I don't know, really. I'm not part of any more scheduled meetings." As I said this I was realizing that it was entirely possible I wouldn't even see her again this trip unless I was needed.

Belinda was clearly arriving at the same conclusion. "So what are you going to do? You're not going to not talk to her, are you?"

Did I hear a slight note of disapproval? "Of course I am. Don't worry babe, I got this."

We talked a little longer and when I got off the phone I starting thinking about how I was actually going to see Maddy. I knew she was staying in one of the suites, she'd mentioned it to Jeff Brown at one of our meetings. She also mentioned it had a mountain view and was on the 9^th floor. I little research in the hotel lobby, and with a discussion with some of the cleaning staff, an hour later I knew the room number. I did say I was creative.

Armed with her room number, I made my way there. I knew she was married so she probably wasn't going to be socializing late. I had to get to her before she went to bed. I hoped she was in there when I boldly knocked on her door. It was a bit brash not to text her first, but I was taking the bull by the horns.

I heard, "Just a minute," and then a minute later she opened the door. She was in a robe that wasn't even tied. It seemed the sash had gone missing and she had just thrown it on. She was holding the top together to prevent anything upstairs showing. I didn't look down. I'd seen her great stocking clad legs earlier and felt that anything else was too much to see in order to have a professional conversation.

I hadn't thought about Maddy's appearance much. It really wasn't an issue. At that moment, though, her looks were an issue. She was in her mid-to-late thirties. She had always dressed professionally and never shown so much as a hint of cleavage at any of our meetings. Now I had a view of the tops of two large globes, not quite covered by her robe. She had an attractive face and her short brunette hair that had been always so carefully well-maintained was a bit tousled. That combination was not unnoticed by the traitor in my pants.

"Yes, Ben? Do you need something that can't wait until tomorrow?" She mouth was smiling as she said that but her eyes certainly weren't. This was off to an awkward start.

"I was hoping to catch you for a private conversation." As soon as I said those words, I wished there was a hole I could crawl into and die. It got even worse when a voice that I recognized called out, "Everything all right Maddy?"

She turned her head to say into the room, "Yes Jeff, I'll be just a moment," before turning her head back toward me. "I'm afraid I was also hoping for some privacy right now. I'll text you when I have a time we can speak, okay?"

Before I could answer she closed the door.

"Okay," I said back.

I went to my room and replayed that very brief conversation 100 times over in my mind trying to answer the questions that kept forming. Had I blown my chance of any promotion? Worse, had I blown my chance at any future promotion? Was this really as bad as it looked? Was it salvageable? Most importantly, what the fuck was I going to say on my next call with Belinda?

I debated calling Belinda and letting her know about the debacle that night. It was possible she might have some sound advice. It was also possible I'd cause her to worry. Fearing the latter, I resigned myself to a restless night and seeing what the morning would bring. No need to have two people upset. I'd either solve this on my own or fail miserably the same way.

The first thing I did when I woke up was take my phone off the charger and check for any text messages. There weren't any, of course, since it was unlikely Madeleine had had insomnia and thought at 3:00 AM, "I bet Ben Falk's waiting to hear from me, I'd better let him know something."

I really had nothing to do the rest of the day. Aspen is a beautiful place. It's worth a visit even if you don't ski. I decided to take my mind off of things by walking around the town. I spent my time in shops looking for a souvenir or gift to bring back to Belinda. Periodically I'd pull out my phone to look at it. By periodically, I mean every half hour or so. There was nothing.

I didn't find anything that I wanted to buy for Belinda. My mind wasn't really on it. I took a break and decided to get something to eat. I put my phone on the table at the cafe I was eating at. It was while I was having lunch that my phone buzzed, and I nearly jumped out of my skin as it skittered across the table top. When I grabbed it, I saw that Madeleine had sent a text.

Will Friday evening at 7 at my suite work for you?

I texted back immediately.

Yes.

"That was smooth," I thought sarcastically. "It's going to seem like I was hovering over my phone just waiting for her to send me a message," which is exactly what I had been doing.

Having regained control of my nerves, I could now concentrate on the remainder of my burrito and the text. Maddy had agreed to meet me, but it was on the last evening of the last day. I assumed that night wasn't going to be an option since she might be busy with Jeff Brown again. I was clearly not high on her priority list.

It was also going to be in her suite rather than in a conference room or some other professional setting. It seemed like she was setting me up for a 15-minute conversation where I could say what was on my mind. Not the best way for me to extol my virtues, but beggars can't be choosers. I had my shot, so I needed to make the most of what I was given.

I called Belinda that night and tried to put the best face on it I could. I let her know I would be talking to Madeleine on Friday night in a vague sort of manner. Of course, she got all of the details out of me and had her own reservations.

"In her suite, Ben? It doesn't sound like she's taking this too seriously. Does she usually have meetings there?"

"Of course. She's met with our client there. That way there are no distractions." I didn't think I should mention the nature of the meeting she'd had with Jeff Brown. I was sure that wouldn't be helpful.

"I don't know, baby. It seems like she's picked a time where she's not going to be really receptive. She can end it with any excuse like she has to pack or call her family before you all leave tomorrow."

She was echoing my concerns, but I tried to keep that out of my voice. "She's definitely taking this seriously, baby. She knows what it's about." Yup, I lied. All Madeleine Fairbanks knew for certain was that I wanted to talk to her. It could have been about the lack of conditioner in my room for all that she knew. In my defense, a small lie seemed the easiest way to get through the phone call.

"Baby, I want you to promise me something."

"Oh course baby."

"You do not leave that room without having given it your absolute best."

"I promise." I meant it, too.

The next day came and went a little easier. I did manage to find a few knick knacks for Belinda and wasn't constantly checking my phone. I spent much of the day rehearsing my speech to Maddy about how promoting me was in the best interest of the agency. I was prepared to make the best presentation of my life.

I showed up at the time she set. It was 6:59 when I knocked on the same door I had two nights earlier. She opened the door dressed much differently than she had been the last time I'd been here. She was wearing a black strapless evening dress and high heels. It wasn't too provocative, but it wasn't her usual work attire, either. I suddenly wondered if she had plans after my meeting with her and if she was going to be watching the clock. I was mentally abbreviating my prepared speech should I discover that to be the case.

"Come on in, Ben." Her smile was radiating warmth and she had a friendly look in her eyes, almost a gleam. I took that as encouraging.

I followed her to the common area where I could see she had a bottle of wine on the table. There were two glasses.

"Have a seat."

I sat on a chair opposite another chair and a rather large couch. It was a pretty comfortable chair and I just sank into it. "Thank you for seeing me."

She reached for the bottle of wine and began to pour, "I hope you like wine."

"I do. It's just that I don't think I should drink."

She smiled, "When your boss wants to drink with you, you should just agree."

I agreed, I took the glass of wine she poured. She took her own and settled on the couch.

"Now Ben, what was so urgent that you got me out of bed by knocking on my door without any advance warning?"

I almost choked on my wine at that moment. Her voice did have some mirth, so I didn't feel berated. I did feel confused that she had just admitted what I'd interrupted. Not that it hadn't been obvious; I just was not prepared for her to be so open about it. When I was preparing all possible ways for this conversation to start, she'd somehow come up with one I'd missed.

I decided to ignore the elephant in the room and tried to get back on track to how I'd originally imagined this conversation going. "Well Madeleine... Maddy, I've been passed over a few times for promotions back home and we have one coming up that I think I'd be a good fit for. I was hoping if you were pleased with my work here, you might be put in a good word to my boss, Jim Sanders."

She took a sip of her wine. She seemed to be taking me seriously. "Why aren't you speaking with him?"

It was a fair question. I had hinted in the past to Jim Sanders I'd like to move up but I'd never really felt he was open to a direct conversation. He was friendly enough and never discouraged me, still, I felt that somehow as far as he was concerned I was never in the running.

I took another sip of wine. "Well Maddy, I don't know what it is, but I don't think he considers me as anything more than a creative type. I feel like I've been stuck there for years longer than I should have been. I honestly feel I've been as deserving of a promotion as anyone else who has been chosen over me."

"So why are you so eager to leave creative, at which you are quite exceptional, and move into management? I know you are adequately compensated. You actually are one of our most well-paid employees in your position."

I was surprised she knew that about me. I took that as a good sign. "That's true, and I know many people spend their whole life just doing the creative side of things. I want to have a family, though, and honestly I miss being with my wife. I'd like to be able to have kids and actually see them."

"I see. So you want a promotion so you can spend more time at home, have I got the gist of it?" She sounded empathetic.

"Yes, that's it. I'd be a great team leader. I have no doubt I can do the job and do it well. I also am well-liked by everyone I work with. I'm not boasting but it is a strength of mine."

"I don't doubt that, either."

I was feeling great. I took a bigger sip of wine. I was actually starting to relax. It was clear she was waiting for me to go on. "You do seem familiar with my work but if you'd like I can tell you about some of the campaigns I've worked on and how I've handled pressure. I've never missed a deadline."

She didn't say anything. She took another drink of wine and just continued to look at me with a twinkle in her eye. I was uncomfortable at the silence so I said, "Is there anything you want to know about or something you want to see? I've got an internal resume of the work I've done here I could email you." I stopped talking and waited for her to speak.

Maddy didn't for a moment. She drew her legs onto the couch and relaxed her head back into the arm of it. "Take off your shirt."