Total pages in book: 144
Estimated words: 147415 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 737(@200wpm)___ 590(@250wpm)___ 491(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 147415 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 737(@200wpm)___ 590(@250wpm)___ 491(@300wpm)
He also taught me how to focus. I definitely don’t need to give a crap if Foster’s all smiles or frozen stares.
The chance to shadow a CEO was another big reason I applied. It seems useful if I’m ever in a position to run my own nonprofit.
I’ve read through the company’s history. Foster started this venture alone over a decade ago. He had jaw-dropping venture capital interest before he even hired his first employee.
By the time he turned Home Shepherd into a real working company, he was already known for philanthropy from his other ventures.
He created the vast architecture here from nothing but experience and some seed money.
Arrogant suit or not, he’s the sort of man you’d want to learn from when it comes to building empires from ash and bone.
And honestly, bad attitude aside, I’m beginning to think I’d jump at the chance to trade Foster for Mark, who’s finally typing away on his computer, humming obnoxiously to some pop song.
Mark wouldn’t know the nitty-gritty about business if it smacked him in the face. All the pitfalls to avoid, how to make everything transparent and fully focused on doing good vs. just making money.
And Carol, she’s perfectly lovely, but she’s also not going to know the thousand-foot view.
As a product lead, she knows better than anyone what the company does on a smaller scale with its biggest assets, but...
The first time I met Foster, I didn’t think he knew much either.
I thought all the research I’d done about how he’d set up his company meant nothing.
Until he dropped that mile-long list of charities Home Shepherd works with.
Until I dug deeper, talked to more employees, learned more history, and now it’s possible—possible—that Shepherd Foster isn’t just another greedy billionaire with an ego to feed.
Public disclosures show he takes home far less salary than he could, even if it’s still a staggering amount. He has no golden parachute waiting on the other side in offshore accounts and vaporware companies.
By every measure, he pays his people well, triples their 401(k) contributions, and Foster Holdings’ charitable contributions are legendary.
It’s just kept weirdly quiet, without any big fanfare.
Just like charity work should be, honestly, and that’s what bothers me.
Why isn’t he like the others?
Why isn’t the good he does an enormous dick-waving symbol of pride?
I hate to admit it, but I’m as impressed as I am suspicious.
Though the people here seem to want to do honest good without looking for praise and quick leaps up the career ladder.
Of course, the smears from Vanessa Dumas could be true.
I’m not stupid.
There’s a distinct chance he’s a sharp businessman and perfectly generous, but he’s also a womanizing asshole. Maybe that’s why he likes to be so secretive.
But if the rumors are only that, and this actress is blowing everything out of proportion for attention, what does that mean?
Is Shepherd Foster just a workaholic freak who wants to be left alone?
I’m still wrestling with the possibilities as I work until Carol taps her fingers against the door and pokes her head in.
“Hey!” she says. “How’s it going with the big proposal?”
Mark looks up with a scowl, which is weird for him.
“Good,” I lie. “Just fine-tuning the layout now.”
“Nervous?” She gives me a sympathetic smile.
I hesitate. “A little. It’s a quick turnaround. There’s more I’d want to do if I had the time...”
“Don’t overthink it! This isn’t grad school and those suits grade on ideas, not fancy words.”
Oof, yeah.
That’s what worries me.
“The idea part is fine. Mostly. I just wish I had a little more practical experience to point to with something this new.”
“You could always speak to Mr. Foster about it,” she suggests. “I’m surprised he didn’t give you more time. Two to three weeks is standard for a normal internal development proposal, and this is pretty close to that. It’s not usually so tight.”
No, of course.
Because Mr. Foster is a dark prince of all pricks who enjoys making me miserable.
“I bet he’ll make time to see you if you hit him up,” Mark says hopefully.
“Maybe,” I say.
And by that, I mean he will, because I’m not going to allow him to dodge me until it’s time to wow him like a surly professor waiting for my thesis paper.
I have to sell this idea, and that means talking to him at least one more time before I turn it in.
Carol smiles at us both. “Well, definitely give me a shout if you need anything!”
I half wave as she ducks out and the door clicks shut behind her.
“She’s so nice,” Mark says distantly. “Really helpful.”
Yeah.
Shame she can’t help me much here. I give him a quick smile and turn back to my laptop, tightening up my sentences and adding footnotes almost as long as the main presentation at the end.
The evening crawls by as I work and Mark hangs around like a baby monkey, clingy as ever and making flat jokes, throwing out suggestions I don’t need every hour.