For seven years, I worked for Richard Bennett, and during that time, I believed I understood him better than almost anyone else in the company. I knew how he preferred his coffee, which clients required extra preparation, and why he liked to review important documents early in the morning. I understood his routines, his expectations, and the quiet way he showed appreciation when someone did a good job. However, one Friday afternoon at a peaceful park near our office, I discovered that there was still something important about my employer that I had never fully understood.

It all began seven years earlier, when I was twenty-four and desperately searching for a job. My résumé was short, my experience was limited, and I was so nervous during my interview that I nearly knocked over a glass of water. Richard, who was already in his seventies, had spent decades building a small business into a respected regional company. He was known for being serious, thoughtful, and extremely particular about details. He rarely raised his voice, but a quiet look over his glasses was often enough to remind everyone to pay attention.