Harper's Rules (11 page)

“So the message when you say ‘some kind of reasonable increase,'” I interjected, “is, ‘you will have to pay me more than I'm making to get me,' but at the same time you defuse the avarice stigma. Nice.”

“Lucky for you I accept both sincere praise and patronizing flattery.”

“Okay, let's get back to me. How can I modify this, considering I am unemployed? And what if I don't have ‘other opportunities?'”

“As a temporarily unemployed person, you continue to go back to your last salary as the base number. As for whether or not you actually have other interviews scheduled, that is semantics; you will. Everyone has other opportunities, even if they haven't happened yet. You can still say you are considering them. Going online and reading postings is “considering.” You need to be completely honest but not absolutely honest.”

“Interesting distinction. Which one are you being right now, Harper?”

“I'm not saying it's how you run your whole life; I'm saying it makes no sense to tell a company you would never interview for any other job because you love them so much and would do anything to work for them. Would you tell someone you were in love with that they could treat you any way they want and you would stay with them no matter what?”

“If we allow for paraphrasing, I think I've said exactly that.”

“And how did that work out?”

“Harper, all of this is well and good, but I already told Wallace I wanted a 200K base: 75K higher than the base I had and 200K higher than what I am making now.”

“I'll fix it.”

“How, without looking dishonest or avaricious?”

“People make new decisions when faced with new information. I presented you new information which makes those numbers no longer applicable, and Wallace will have to make a new decision.”

“I love it when you talk spin.”

“First I need to know how you left things with Wallace.”

“We agreed to meet on the 17
th
at their Manhattan office at 9
A.M.
He wants me to meet the other managing partners and get a product demo.”

I knew this would please Harper. He has prepped me so many times for interviews that it has become reflexive for me to follow his Cardinal Rule of Ending Interviews.

Harper's Rule: Never leave an interview without closing on the next step in the process. Don't leave without a date and time for the next interview.

He even gave me a script and told me to memorize it so that it would sound spontaneous:

“Wallace, I appreciate how generous you've been with your time, and I'm impressed by you and the organization. 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?”

“You may not be going on the 17
th
,” Harper said offhandedly. “I'll get back to you on that.”

“That's your fix? Cancelling my only interview?”

“Yes, 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.”

“But I don't have two other interviews! I don't want to bluff, Harper.”

“I 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.

“Harper, I want that job! I am going on the 17
th
!”

“Casey, 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?”

“He 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.

“Harper, I just want this to be all over.” Suddenly my throat hurt.

“I 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.”

“See, in my head it seemed hopeful and romantic. When you say it, it sounds crazy and pathetic.”

“It 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.

“He 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.

“I'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.

“Well, perhaps I will make it a goal to become someone you trust. I would like that.”

“Whoa, that is a lofty ambition, Wallace. But it's good to have goals, right?”

Wallace laughed and looked away. He was at that wonderful stage attractive older men get to where they are still skilled at flirting even though they are harmless. Why does our skin have to dry and fall and crease in order for us to get comfortable living in it?

“I would have thought,” Wallace said, “given his largesse regarding his fee, that you would have said you trusted Harper.”

“Harper has never given me a reason not to trust him.”

“But that doesn't mean you do.”

“Do you have some issue with Harper, Wallace?”

“Absolutely not. Dealt with him for years, always done right by me. He's just a really clever guy with access to a lot of sensitive company information. People more clever than me make me wary.”

“For what it's worth, I think Harper knows where to draw the boundaries.”

Wallace nodded vigorously. “Agreed. Anyway, with what he's been through recently, I've been impressed with how he's handled himself and how he's stayed focused on the job. A very disciplined guy.”

What he's been through? Recently? What did he mean? Was Wallace implying Harper had to overcome something? Personal? Business? Wallace saw the same look on my face he saw in the grill room. He knew I had no idea what he was referring to.

“I see I'm talking out of school again. And I hate when people do that to me. So what say we get back on point? Casey, I can't get into the specifics right now, but the timing for whoever gets this position is pretty fortuitous. Some very big, very fundamental changes in capital and investment are happening behind the scenes, and that's all I can say.”

He was clearly referring to the Cisco takeover. Harper mentioned a 2 billion dollar infusion. I knew enough to keep my mouth shut, but I need to work on my poker face.

“Something tells me you know what I'm referring to,” Wallace said dryly. “Did our friend bring you up to speed?”

Time to ruin this whole deal or hit one out of the park. If I'm going down, I'm going to go down feeling good about myself.

“Wallace, with all due respect, if he did, I wouldn't tell you. He would have told me in confidence, and once someone tells me something in confidence then it's in the vault. If I violated that trust, how would you ever be able to trust me with information you want in the vault?”

“I wouldn't,” Wallace said.

“So, maybe I'll make you trusting me a goal of mine, too.”

“It's good to have goals. Casey, I would be pleased if you would come back to meet some of the key players on the board. Are you available on the 17
th
to come into Manhattan for the day?”

Something to hold back that says I'm different . . . Time to bring it.

“That depends, Wallace.”

“On what?”

“Who do I get to sell to first?”

Wallace sat back. It didn't matter whether he realized at some level that Harper might have fed me his question, he still was used to asking it, and he still wanted to know my answer.

“Who would you want to sell to first?”

“There was a great quote in
Slate
magazine's technology section a few months ago. ‘Everyone is intoxicated about how social networking is bringing about change, but no one is noticing that it is not making anyone a red cent.' That seemed a trenchant comment to me.”

“I believe I wrote that article.”

“I believe you did. And you're right. So here's what I think. We don't try to sell to consumers. We don't try to take down Facebook. We get Walmart or the NFL, or any large enterprise, and we tell them we will provide them with their own social network, a network of customers, vendors, and employees. Connect them to their own world and leave the outside world out. The way to make money in social networking is for the network to become an entity's primary way of marketing—a way to create its own culture.”

Wallace nodded, and the hair stood up on the back of my neck. “So,” he said, “we don't get into the ad revenue wars?”

“We are a fee-based service. The ads are intrinsic in the very idea of the network. We take both.”

I threw my hair back and started to gather my things. Leave them wanting more. Harper said, “Leave an interview on your own terms.”

“Anyway, just a thought,” I said, standing up. “I don't want to waste your time coming back if my ideas are contrary to your plan. I'm sure you know best . . .”

“. . . and then, Wallace said, ‘Consider the 17
th
booked, consider me behind the concept, and consider me duly impressed with you . . .' I hear tapping, Harper. Are you actually emailing while I am sharing my conversation with your client?”

“Did he actually say he was behind the concept?”

“Verbatim. So you see? I have to go on the 17
th
.”

“I'll do what I can and be back to you. You need to get ready for your date.”

God! My date! I had spent so much energy being “on” for Wallace, and now dealing with the life-sucking force that is Harper, I just wanted to stay home and veg.

“Did you do your homework on him, Casey? Same principles, remember?”

“No, I did not. I thought I'd try an innovative method and have an actual conversation with him during the actual date.”

“I figured, so I did it for you. There's something you need to know about this guy. Turns out—”

“Harper, stop. I will defer to your judgment on my livelihood. But just because I am divorced and you are married, just because you have a theory about work and love, I will not have you doing investigative work on the men I date.”

“So you don't want to know?”

“Of course I want to know. But I am going to choose to not know. I am going to go on this date with an open mind, and I am not going to let you ruin that for me.”

“For the record, it's really juicy stuff. I would want to know.”

“Harper.”

“What?”

I wanted to say something indignant. Or go the other way and be funny. But my throat was closing. My eyes were doing that stupid, welling-up thing.

“I'm lonely. You know?”

“Yeah. I do. Go on your date. I'll deal with Wallace. Enjoy yourself.”

CHAPTER EIGHT

My burst of integrity with Harper lasted about two hours. I was so proud of myself for making the right, if utterly romantic choice, and not accepting Harper's intel on Peter's past, and then I got two text messages. One, from Harper, was heartening; he had spoken to Wallace, reworked the compensation expectations, and said I could plan on the 17
th
. The second text was from Peter.

“Exactly what is ‘smart casual'?”

Sigh. In my experience with men, the correct answer to this is, “Not what you were thinking of wearing.” But it was way too early in our relationship for honesty, so I answered that I was sure whatever he was thinking was fine.

His return text: “That's good, since I don't own a jacket. Are you wearing jeans?”

Harper always says that his clients decide within the first thirty to ninety seconds in an interview if they are going to hire you, and the rest of the entire interview process, even if it takes hours and several visits, is just filler, their way of reassuring themselves of the decision they had already unconsciously made. I remembered what I had written to Harper: