Chapter Text
August 30th, 1998 5:32 PM
Kara sighed as she took off her glasses and rubbed the bridge of her nose in frustration. This was the third head of journalism she had to fire because of their incompetence when it came to leadership.
The Kryptonian looked frazzled to say the least. The buttons of her shirt were all undone, revealing her undershirt. Stray hairs were poking out of her normally immaculate bun. Pen marks covered her from hand to elbow, just below her cuffed sleeves.
Thankfully she was in her personal office in the penthouse, meaning there were no witnesses to see the breaking down of the CEO who was known for being the epitome of pristine order. The only option left was to look outside the company for a new hire.
The alien looked down at the various resumes and applications spread across her desk. They all were bonafide editors, but none of them seemed to click. At least not on paper. Which means she would have to have her assistant adjust her schedule accordingly.
Kara groaned, her level of frustration was very high. On top of running an entire company, she had to babysit the journalists until she could find a suitable replacement. She did not have the time nor the patience to coddle.
The blonde reached for the glass filled with amber liquid and took a small sip. Although alcohol didn’t affect her, the taste and smell always comforted her. It reminded her of her semi-adopted brother-in-law, Dr. Jeremiah Danvers.
She set the glass down with a light thump, her mind made up. Tomorrow she would hold the face to face interviews as early as her schedule allowed. Those that couldn’t show up at the short notice would be instantly disqualified for the position. Those that could will have had made it through the first test.
Those that truly would be committed to the welfare of the company would make the time for it. Kara Zor-El had no time for those who weren’t willing to do so.
Nodding to herself in affirmation, the Kryptonian went on to the articles.
This truly could have been written by a Kindergartener, she thought to herself as she started to make angry red marks on the first sentence.
August 31st, 1998 10:13 AM
Frustration and anger was rolling off of the Kryptonian in waves.
Only twenty-six of the fifty candidates had arrived so far and out of those, twelve of them were arrogant men trying to lord over her as if she was a small child, eight of them bored her with personal sob stories, and the rest were too afraid to correct her when she made “accidental” mistakes.
The last one was set to arrive in -the CEO checked her watch- one minute seventeen seconds.
“McMillan! Bring in my 10:15, immediately!” she called out to her assistant, careful to keep her face stone cold, in order to keep her irritation from being overstated.
The short brunette squeaked a little as she rushed off to gather the next interviewee. It was rare that the CEO became short tempered like this, but that made it all the more terrifying when she was. The whole building was on edge and ready to bolt.
Kara took out the file with the extensive list of accomplishments her 10:15 had made. She had already read over it several times, but it was for appearances sake. An intimidation tactic, to let the interviewee know they had not yet made an impression on her.
Her assistant arrived thirty seconds later with the woman. Catherine Grant according to the file.
“Thank you, McMillan,” the CEO stood behind her desk to shake the new woman's hand firmly, “please, take a seat.”
The shorter woman sat in the chair Kara gestured to, an aura of confidence around her.
“Thank you for coming in for the interview on such short notice. I trust it wasn't too much trouble,” the alien started with an air of indifference once the brunette left and she herself sat down.
“I'm sure it wouldn't matter even if it was,” the woman said in a clearly dismissive tone.
“Quite true,” Kara said, never looking at the woman, “It says here you worked for the Daily Planet for a number of years before this. Why did you leave?”
“Personal reasons,” the woman answered shortly.
“I trust those reasons will not get in the way of your work here at KarCo,” the alien said still not giving the woman the time of day.
“I hardly would have applied for the job if I thought my personal affairs would interfere,” came the reply.
Only then did Kara look again at the interviewee. There was a burning determination in the woman's eyes that all the others had either lacked or diminished.
The CEO leaned back into her chair and considered her options.
“What are you looking to accomplish here, 10:15?”
“The name is Cat Grant.”
“I don't remember asking,” Kara said in a bored tone.
“Primarily I want to show that women are capable leaders. Secondarily I want to escape certain shadows that I had been under while I worked in Metropolis,” the interviewee said stiffly.
Good. Meaningful but still professional. Not a kiss ass.
“Well, 10:15,” the CEO opened a drawer filled with keys, and handed the woman one “your office and team of journalists are waiting for you. You have one week to prove you can take it. I am not a patient woman. You will not get a second chance.”
The shorter woman nodded stiffly in understanding.
“McMillan!”
“Yes Miss Zor-El?” the assistant scrambled into the office.
“Show 10:15 her office immediately. On the journalism floor. And on your way back please get me my usual latte.”
She short woman froze, eyes wide.
A flash of anger and irritation rushed through Kara.
“Did. I. Stutter.” The CEO growled out.
“N-no Miss Zor-El. I'll get right on it,” the scared assistant said before fleeing the office with Cat Grant who was not affected by the CEO’s outburst, following her.