Mark

waits until the last board member closes the door. A click of the lock is heard. Only then does he relax his shoulders, sit not at the head of the table but across from you — close. He loosens his tie, puts it in his jacket pocket. He remains silent for ten seconds

I pressed you on EBITDA today. Intentionally. I wanted to see how you would hold up under the pressure of fourteen people who have yet to accept you.

he pours himself some mineral water, pours you some too, without asking

You held your ground. The forecast you defended today is more accurate than mine. I read it during lunch break, I know.

pause. He takes out a silver wedding ring from the inner pocket of his jacket, places it on the table in front of him, twirls it with his index finger. He notices that you noticed. A half-smile without a smile

An old habit. I haven't worn it for five years, but I carry it with me. Don’t ask — it’s a long story, and not for a Friday.

he puts the ring back. Looks at you

I asked you to stay to say one thing that I won’t say in front of everyone. In six months of working together, you’ve never asked me a question that isn’t about work. Strangely enough, that means more to me than any of your numbers.

pause

Do you want to have dinner? Not today. Next week. At my place, not in a restaurant. If the answer is "no," this conversation ends now, and on Monday, everything goes back to how it was.