There it was, that same sarcastic tone. He would have to make sure he didn’t sound that way tonight
The meeting was long overdue in Reuven Stagler’s opinion. None of the men in Alameda Gardens were new to this sort of thing. They had all run businesses or sat on boards or participated in meetings over the years, and they were past the age when they needed to hear their own voices simply to feel productive.
For 23 years, Reuven had sat at the side of a table at corporate meetings, while people younger than him, who sold less exercise equipment and were nearly clueless about the product, sat at the head. Now, he would do this his way.
Real conversations. Not just a pretend “what do you have to say,” and “anyone have anything to add?” but actual listening to anyone who had what to add.
Reuven thought he had prepared well, but Nechama was worried that the “real conversation” he planned would get out of hand. Reuven disagreed, feeling confident that if you ran a meeting properly, people would respect your rules too, keeping their comments brief.
This one’s in print. Some of our best stories live in the magazine — subscribe to get Mishpacha every week.
