The Turbulence from a Husband’s Overpraised Supervisee

“Vanessa saved us today,” Martin announced as he and his wife Christine had dinner after a long day. It was the warm time of the year, so the young couple had decided to enjoy their meal on the cool lawn. The atmosphere was ambient, to say the least, as traffic from the highway created decorative glimmers in the distance. “We had a presentation for the Executive Committee and somebody discovered an error in the figures at the last minute. That woman reorganised the entire presentation in less than an hour. Brilliant girl.” Christine smiled. “At least you have somebody competent on your team.” “I am telling you. If I had three Vanessas in that department, I would sleep peacefully at night.”
Christine's laughter was half-baked. This was not the first time she had heard such glowing praise about Vanessa. In fact, the praises were becoming a bit too frequent for her comfort. Especially after a difficult day when all she had been looking forward to was catching up with her husband. Sales in her business had plummeted throughout the week and another woman's successes was the last thing she expected to hear from her young and handsome husband.
“So, how was your day?” Martin asked, reaching for a second serving. “Not particularly good,” Christine replied. “Sales have been terrible this week.” “Sorry about that,” Martin said. “Hopefully, things will pick up next week.”
Before Christine could say much more, Martin's telephone vibrated on the table. He glanced at the screen and smiled. “Speak of the devil.” “Who?” Christine asked. “Vanessa. She has just sent me the final presentation.”
Martin opened the document on his phone and scrolled through it. “Look at this. She has even cleaned up the slides we didn't ask her to touch. This girl takes initiative.” Christine held her gaze and froze for a moment, then continued eating quietly.
Over the following weeks, Vanessa's name continued making regular appearances in their home. Vanessa had handled a difficult client exceptionally well. Vanessa had volunteered to stay late and complete an urgent report. Vanessa had represented the department brilliantly at a meeting Martin could not attend. If somebody made a mistake at work, Martin retorted that Vanessa would never have allowed such a thing to happen. And truth be told, Christine was beginning to get irritated by her husband’s unmistakable obsession over the girl.
But as days passed by, Christine tried to dismiss her growing irritation. Martin headed a department and naturally worked closely with the people he supervised. She had also heard him praise other members of his team before. The difference was that none of their names had ever featured quite as frequently in their conversations as Vanessa's did.
One Saturday morning, Martin's telephone rang while he and Christine were having breakfast. “Vanessa, good morning,” he answered immediately. Christine looked up from her cup of tea. The conversation was entirely about work. Martin listened for a while, asked several questions then laughed at something Vanessa said before ending the call. “That girl is something else,” he remarked as he placed the telephone on the table. “She has already sorted out the problem we were discussing yesterday.”
Christine looked at him. “Martin, do you ever get tired of praising this woman?” He frowned. “What is that supposed to mean?” “It means exactly what I said. Vanessa this. Vanessa that. Every other day there is something wonderful Vanessa has done.”
Martin stared at his wife for a moment before laughing. “Christine, surely you are not jealous of somebody I supervise?” The word ‘jealous’ immediately put Christine on the defensive. “I didn't say I was jealous.” “Then what is the problem? The woman is good at her job. Am I supposed to pretend that she isn't because she happens to be a woman?”
Christine did not respond. Put that way, her concern sounded petty even to her. She had no evidence that Martin and Vanessa were involved in anything inappropriate. Martin had never hidden their telephone conversations and, as far as Christine knew, their interactions were work-related. Yet, something about the frequency and enthusiasm with which her husband spoke about Vanessa continued to bother her.
A few weeks later, Christine accompanied Martin to a corporate function. As they moved around the room, a smartly dressed young woman approached them. “Martin!” Martin's face brightened. “Vanessa! Come and meet my wife.” He turned towards Christine. “This is the lady I keep telling you about. One of the best people I have ever supervised.” Vanessa laughed. “Don't believe everything he tells you. He gives me too much credit.” The three chatted briefly before Vanessa excused herself to join some colleagues.
As they drove home later that evening, Martin once again remarked on Vanessa's professional abilities. This time Christine had had enough. “Martin, I know Vanessa works for you and I know you think highly of her professionally. But I need you to understand something. I am becoming uncomfortable with how much space this woman seems to occupy in our conversations.”
Martin turned towards her in disbelief. “Christine, Vanessa is my supervisee. What exactly do you think is going on?” “I don't know that anything is going on,” Christine replied. “That is not what I said.” “Then why are we having this conversation?”
Christine turned towards the window. That was precisely the difficulty. She did not want to accuse her husband of something she could not prove. But neither did she want to wait until she had something to prove before being allowed to tell him that his relationship with another woman was making her uncomfortable.










