They Said My Degree Was Useless At The Family Dinner—Until They Saw My Client List
The Family Dinner and the Useless Degree
“Another client rejection, Rachel?” My brother James smirked across our parents’ mahogany dinner table.
“Maybe if you’d gotten a real degree instead of that useless psychology PhD, you’d have actual success to report at these monthly family dinners.”
I took a slow sip of wine. I thought about the confidential merger documents sitting in my office safe.
These documents would determine whether his precious investment bank lived or died. They were documents he had no idea I controlled.
“Psychology is fascinating,” I replied quietly. “You’d be surprised how much human behavior affects business decisions.”
“Human behavior doesn’t make money,” my sister Sarah chimed in, adjusting her Rolex. It was a gift from her law firm for making partner.
“Real success comes from practical degrees—business, finance.”
If they only knew that my useless degree had built the most exclusive consulting firm in the country. CEOs of Fortune 500 companies waited months for my approval on their biggest decisions.
Their own company’s fates rested in my hands.
“Speaking of success,” my father began his usual parade of family achievements. “James just closed another billion dollar deal at Goldman Sachs.”
“And Sarah’s firm is handling the Preston Meers merger,” my mother added proudly. “The biggest corporate merger of the year.”
I hid my smile behind my wine glass. They had no idea I was the anonymous consultant both companies had hired.
I was hired to evaluate the psychological viability of that very merger. It was the one I was likely going to reject.
“What about you, Rachel?” Aunt Patricia asked with fake concern. “Any progress with that consultation business of yours?”
“It’s going fine.”
“Fine,” James laughed. “She probably has two clients who need help with their anxiety.”
“Meanwhile, I’m handling real business.”
My phone buzzed quietly. It was a message from my executive assistant.
“White House meeting confirmed for tomorrow. They want your assessment of the new economic advisory team.”
“You know,” Sarah leaned forward. “My firm is always looking for corporate counsel.”
“Even with your unusual background, we might find something entry-level.”
I thought about the psychological profile I’d compiled on her firm’s managing partner. He had paid six figures for it last month.
The same partner had specifically requested my services after I’d accurately predicted three major market shifts. These predictions were based on executive behavior patterns.
“I’m happy with my current work,” I replied.
“What work?” James snorted. “Listening to people’s problems all day? That’s not work; that’s glorified therapy.”
“You’d be amazed what people reveal when they talk,” I said softly. “Their fears, their plans, their vulnerabilities.”
“Speaking of plans,” my father interrupted. “James’ team is finalizing that acquisition next week, the Anderson Group deal. Now that’s real business.”
I kept my face neutral. I even recalled my morning meeting with Anderson Group.
He’d asked for my evaluation of Goldman’s acquisition offer. My recommendation would land on his desk tomorrow.
“Reject the deal.” James’s team had missed critical psychological indicators in the corporate culture compatibility.
“Rachel,” my mother. “We just want you to reach your potential.”
“All that education and what do you have to show for it?”
I thought about my penthouse office overlooking Central Park. I thought of the waiting list of Fortune 500 CEOs and the government contracts.
There was the private jet I actually owned, unlike James’ company lease.
“I do all right.”
“All right isn’t enough in this family,” James declared. “Look at my division’s performance: 3 billion in deals this quarter alone.”
“And how’s the Anderson acquisition going?” I asked innocently.
He frowned. “Proceeding. Why?”
“Just curious about human behavior patterns in high-stakes negotiations.”
Sarah rolled her eyes. “There you go again with the psychology nonsense. This is why you’ll never understand real business.”
My phone buzzed again. It was an urgent call from Preston Meers.
“Suit wants to triple your fee for expedited merger evaluation.”
“You know what your problem is, Rachel?” James pointed his fork at me. “You’re too passive.”
“In real business, you have to be aggressive. Take what you want.”
I thought about how aggressively I was about to tank his Anderson deal.
“Sometimes,” I replied, “the quiet ones have the most power.”
“Power?” He laughed. “You sit in an office listening to people talk. That’s not power.”
“Tell me, James,” I smiled slightly. “How many of your deals require psychological compatibility assessments?”
He waved dismissively. “Some consultant nonsense the clients insist on—a waste of time and money.”
“And who provides those assessments?”
“Some top secret firm the clients won’t even tell us about. Probably overcharging them for basic…”
His voice trailed off as realization flickered across his face. My phone lit up again.
“Goldman Sachs CEO requesting urgent meeting re Anderson group acquisition.”
“Excuse me,” I stood up. “I have a call to take.”
“More anxiety clients?” Sarah smirked.
“Something like that.”
I stepped into our parents’ study. I knew that tomorrow, James would discover exactly who held the real power in his billion-dollar deals.
His face would be priceless when the Anderson Group CEO quoted my psychological assessment. It would be cited as the reason for rejecting Goldman’s offer.
Sometimes the quiet ones don’t just have power. They have everyone else’s power too.
They just don’t feel the need to brag about it at family dinner.
