college we had a mantra—what would GM do?” She blushed. “I hope you don’t mind that we called you that.”
Some said that GM stood for Great Mind, others Guru of Management. A few of her own staff thought it stood for Genetically Modified, but no one had the courage to tell her that.
Rochelle’s admiration continued to flow across the desk. “You’re afraid of nothing and no one. You’ve been an inspiration to so many of us. The way you’ve shaped your career, your life. You never apologize for the choices you make.”
Why should she apologize? Who would she apologize to?
“Use this opportunity, Rochelle. Did my assistant give you a copy of my next book?”
“Yes. Signed.” Rochelle appeared to have reined in her inner fangirl. “And I think it’s so cool that you have a male assistant.”
“I employ the best person for the job. In this case it’s Cole.”
Out of the corner of her eye she checked the desks of her top executives. She and Bill Keen were the only members of the company to have their own offices. The others worked in the bright open space that stretched the width of the building. Occasionally Gayle would survey her domain from the protection of her glass-fronted oasis and think, I built this myself, with nothing more than guts and a grim determination to survive.
The shiny globe of Simon Belton’s bald head was just visible above the top of his cubicle. He’d arrived before her that morning, which had boosted her mood. He was a hard worker, if a little lacking in truly innovative ideas. Next to him sat Marion Lake. Gayle had hired her the year before as head of marketing, but she was starting to think the appointment might have been a mistake. Just that morning Gayle had noticed her jacket slung casually over the back of her chair, its presence indicating that Marion was somewhere in the building.
Gayle’s mouth thinned. When she gave people a chance, she expected them to take it.
Even now, after all these years, people constantly underestimated her. Did they really think she’d see a jacket draped over the back of a chair and assume the owner was somewhere in the office? There had been no coffee on the desk, and Gayle knew that Marion couldn’t operate without coffee. And the place had the atmosphere of a cemetery. Marion had a loud voice and an irritating compulsion to use it frequently—a flaw possibly related to the volume of coffee she drank. If she had been anywhere in the vicinity, Gayle would have heard her.
She often thought she would have made an excellent detective.
“Going live in three minutes,” one of the film crew told her, and Gayle settled herself more comfortably, composing her features.
She’d done hundreds of interviews, both live and recorded. They held no fear for her. There wouldn’t be a single question she hadn’t already been asked a hundred times. And if she didn’t like a question, she simply answered a different one. Like everything else, it was a matter of choice. They weren’t in control—she was.
In her head she hummed a few bars of the Puccini opera she’d seen the week before. Glorious. Dramatic and tragic, of course... But that was life, wasn’t it?
Rochelle smoothed her hair and cleared her throat.
“Live in five, four, three...”
The man held up two fingers, then one, and Gayle looked at the young reporter, hoping her questions would be good. She didn’t want to have misjudged her.
Rochelle spoke directly to the camera, her voice clear and confident. “Hi, I’m Rochelle Barnard and I’m here at the offices of Mitchell and Associates in downtown Manhattan to interview Gayle Mitchell—more commonly known as GM to her staff and her legions of fans—one of the most powerful and celebrated women in business. Her last book, Choice Not Chance, spent twelve months at the top of the bestseller lists and her latest book, Brave New You, is out next week. She’s one of the leading authorities on organizational change, and is also known for her philanthropic work. Most of all she’s celebrated as a supporter of women, and just this week was presented with the coveted Star Award for most inspirational woman in business at a glitzy event right here in Manhattan. Congratulations, Ms. Mitchell. How does it feel to have your contribution recognized?”
Gayle angled her head, offering her best side to the camera. “I’m honored, of course, but the real honor comes from helping other women realize their potential. We’re so often