LIZZIE'S WORLD: Pleased and petrified

“Liz, the global CEO is about call you,” Chris says. “And he is going to ask you to take over from me – in an acting capacity – when you speak.”

“What?!” I yelp.

“Yes, we will have a video chat on Skype,” he says. Then he takes a closer look at me. “But… you don’t look so well. Your eyes…” he indicates in the general area of my face. He’s right. I am in no state to be seen but… it looks like I don’t have a choice for now.

“Why don’t you stay until a replacement is found?” I ask him.

“I don’t want to,” he shakes his head. “Besides, I think this would be a great opportunity for you, don’t you think?”

“Did you tell him about our relationship?” I ask.

“There was no need. This was his idea. He feels that there is no one who knows the company as well as you do, following me.”

I nod my head slowly, digesting it all. “How long will it take them to confirm someone?” I ask. Chris shakes his head.

“Who knows? Could take weeks, or it could take months. Or you could do such a good job that they decide to give it to you altogether.”

“But you know I had applied for the Ghana gig, right?” I point out, reminding him of my just-approved application for the continental job of head of marketing.

UPWARD GROWTH

“Yes, yes,” he says. “If it’s upward growth you want, this is a great job,” he continues. “But I feel like you would stagnate – you’d be doing the same thing you did here, except on a continental scale. That’s not growth, is it?”

“Oh my….” I say. I am thisclose to accepting the offer. Bu7t I am suffering a severe bout of imposter syndrome right now. I don’t know if I will be able to handle the crises and issues that come up during my tenure as acting MD. I don’t even have the training or the skill or the-

“I can see what you are thinking and all I will say is, stop it. You can do this,” Chris says. “Besides, you’ll have me to guide you when things get difficult.” That’s slightly reassuring. I watch him look at the watch on his wrist. “Right, it’s nearly time. Go get your laptop and I’ll set us up on a group chat.”

I realise, as I stand up and walk my way to my office obediently, that my knees are weak, my palms are sweaty and my mouth is dry. I also have no idea what to say to the CEO, whose name is the incredibly British Harry Smith Darcy. He’s likely sitting in his office in what is most probably a cold, grey London, is not a man I have had the opportunity to spend much time around even though we have occasionally exchanged very friendly emails about our local strategy. I pick up my computer and trudge my way back; I really should be happier about this opportunity – and not just for me, but for all women – but all I feel is numb with a ray of absolute panic searing through the numbness.

“Right,” Chris says as I walk back. “Let’s get this started.” And for the next hour or so, I try to look past my appearance and be as engaging and upbeat as possible as Harry, Chris and I speak about the strategy and direction of the company going forward.

“I was made aware that you had applied for a position in our Ghana operations,” Harry says, “but I feel this would be a better showcase of your growth and skills,” he says, in his up-market clipped tones that tell you which part of England he was raised in.

“I think so too,” I say idly.

“Right. So now that that’s settled, Chris can go ahead and make the announcements, and I will see you when I am in Kenya next month,” Harry says. I nod, we say our goodbyes, and shut down our connection.

There is a moment of deep silence as I turn to Chris and look at him, feeling conflicted – I am both pleased and petrified! “This calls for a drink to celebrate,” he says. “And congratulations. Welcome to this hot, hot seat.”