Page 21 of The Damaged Billionaire's Obsession
So far, the interviewshave all been duds.
Jordan and Mike are looking for a stand-in, someone who can take instructions and is not completely clueless. I think their standards are non-existent. They think I need to give the candidates a break.
The last candidate, Owen Foster, has just left the room. He was better than the rest but still a flicker of heat when I’m looking for a raging inferno.
I’ve been called a perfectionist a few times, but this round of candidates has just made me feel like I'm wasting precious time that I would much rather be investing in something else.
“Not bad, actually,” Mike says as he scratches his stubbled jaw.
I suppress a snort, careful to keep my expression neutral. I see Jordan’s head bob from the corner of my eye, meaning he agrees with Mike’s assessment.
Today is the final day of interviews. In Mike’s words, we either shit or get off the pot. Someone is getting shortlisted today, whether I like it or not.
The first round of interviews was two weeks ago, and our deliberations afterward almost ended in a brawl because I wouldn't budge.
None of the candidates made the cut in my opinion. Even though each of us had a vote and I was outvoted by both of them, I threw such a hissy fit that they had to give in.
They resented my blatant disregard for their majority vote but were also aware that carrying two-thirds of the company’s workload means that I call the shots, and once in a while, I get to throw my weight around.
I know they’re just waiting for me to act up today.
“Ethan?” Jordan prompts, daring me to contradict them.
On paper, we are recruiting mid-level executives, but the job description is uniquely Jordan’s, and whomever we end up hiring would be directly under his supervision, able to take over his duties over time.
We’d decided not to let HR handle the interviews since we were looking to fill an unusual role, but maybe we should have just left this to HR because I don’t see this process not ending in another argument.
“Well, I suppose it wasn’t a complete disaster,” I allow. “He did figure out the bug in the end and worked it out.”
“But?” Jordan prompts.
“His confidence and delivery could be better. We don’t want to be losing deals to competitors because he’s not selling his point hard enough.”
“Ethan,” Mike explains patiently, “Jordan is the one going part-time. I’m still here, and the last time I checked, I handled those high-level negotiations. It’s Jordan’s shoes we need to be filling, not mine.”
I grudgingly accept that he has a point. Owen Foster could maybe fit into the role.
If we beat him into shape hard enough.
“Sajid, what do you think?” I ask. Before inviting candidates up to stand before the panel, Sajid thoroughly vetted each to ensure that their program writing, web and software development and ethical hacking skills were up to par.
“You know, I like him. He’s smart and teachable. I think the nerves got to him a little bit, but he is more confident than he appeared today, Ethan. I would give him a chance.”
“Can’t argue with that assessment. Fine. Owen it is,” I concede.
I expect to see Jordan’s sigh of relief at my compliance, but instead, he asks, “How many more to go, Sajid?
“Three.”
I shrug. “As far as I’m concerned, let's just conclude here. Owen is the best of the twenty-two people we’ve seen in the past two interviews combined. I doubt we'll find anyone else as promising.”
“Hey, we’ve waited this long, we might as well finish. We may yet find gold dust in these muddy waters,” Jordan says cryptically.
I narrow my eyes at him, but he keeps a stupidly straight face. Jordan has an annoying tendency to always have something up his sleeve. For some reason, he never keeps secrets from me, even going as far as telling me things that I'd blissfully live the rest of my lifenot knowing.
But I'm sensing this is one of those moments when he has an agenda and this time, he's left me in the dark.
I’m about to find out very quickly what it is.