Chapter 5 - The Clients
Pierce’s client was named Jonathan Hartwell.
Fifty-two.
Two children.
One granddaughter.
Not villain.
He asked Pierce to meet for coffee.
Pierce told me before going.
“Why?”
“He saw yesterday.”
“Do you need me there?”
“No.”
“Then go.”
Later Pierce told me what happened.
Jonathan said:
“You looked upset when Cade cried yesterday.”
Pierce:
“I was.”
“Why?”
“Because we were pitching your project.”
Jonathan stared.
Then laughed once.
Not cruel.
“You think I decide engineering contracts based on whether your seven-year-old likes waves?”
Pierce said nothing.
Jonathan:
“My oldest didn’t put his face underwater until he was nine.”
That apparently destroyed Pierce.
Then:
“Pierce, I care whether your firm can design a seawall. Your kid can hate the ocean forever.”
There.
The imaginary audience disappeared.
Jonathan had also seen Lenora shove Cade.
He gave police a statement.
No embellishment.
Then he told Pierce:
“Take whatever time you need. We aren’t canceling the process because your family had a crisis.”
Pierce returned to hotel and cried in his car.
He told his therapist later:
“I risked my son’s trust to impress a man who did not need impressing.”
That was important.
But not enough.
Insight is cheap if behavior stays.
He took leave from client-facing work for two weeks.
Not fired.
Not heroic career sacrifice.
Time.
Then he began individual therapy.
Dr. Alan Greene.
Focus:
Shame.
Masculinity.
Conflict with mother.
Parenting.
Not “anger” because Pierce had not hit anyone.
He froze and delegated.
Different problem.
Then supervised visit with Cade.
Public aquarium.
Ironically.
Cade chose.
No ocean exposure.
Pierce asked:
“Want to see shark tunnel?”
“Yes.”
Halfway through, a display simulated waves.
Cade froze.
Pierce’s instinct:
“You’re okay.”
He stopped.
Good.
Instead:
“Want to stay or go around?”
“Go around.”
They went around.
Tiny.
May you like
No applause.
That was the skill.
