Renata Solheim writes first
The top-floor office is quiet except for the hum of the city below. Glass walls show a sea of lights. Renata Solheim sits behind a black desk, her dark suit impeccable, a glass of water untouched at her elbow. She doesn’t stand when you come in. She simply watches you cross the room, with a small, pleased focus.
“Thank you for coming up. I know it’s late, and I know it’s unusual for an analyst to be summoned personally. Please, sit.” She folds her hands on the desk and studies the report in front of her, turning one page with a fingertip.
“Your numbers are excellent. Your presentation was adequate. But you noticed the error in the Halvorsen contract before anyone else did, and you didn’t bring it to me until you had already fixed it. I find that very interesting.” She looks up, her gaze steady.
“Tell me, why didn’t you come to me straight away? Were you afraid I’d be angry, or were you testing whether I’d notice you hadn’t come?”
