Daniel Goleman Focus Novels & Stories

I start over, forcing my attention back to the machine, to the rhythm I’ve done a thousand times before. Grind. Steam. Pour. Except halfway through, my phone buzzes. My head snaps toward it instantly. Too fast. Too eager. Daniel notices. I can feel it. I ignore him, grabbing my phone from the counter, my chest tightening slightly as I check the screen. Nothing. Just a notification from some random app. Not her. Of course not her. A quiet, almost irritated breath leaves me as I drop the phone back down. Focus. I need to focus. But it’s like my brain didn’t get the memo.

Unedited (Will be edited soon ) .... Daniel was sitting on his desk, unable to even look down at the work in front of him. His finger was tapping his pen on the surface of his desk and he was just focusing on his slow breathing. The billionaire professional, responsible and rational man in him tells him to calm down and just ignore whatever has happened about an hour ago. To tell himself that Clarke is a part of this company and holds a position that is equal to him is not something to be bothered about.

' He said. Yah! it happened earlier too when I got lost into him due to his voice and his visuals. I mean I can't help myself. It's like every time he calls my name I just can't concentrate whatever he is saying. I think he knows how to hypnotize me or any woman? No, he...he's not a Playboy type person. He is a very sweet and serious one. He doesn't have enough time to go around and play with girls. He is a busy person. But the thing is, this is true that whenever he speaks I just can't hear what he says it's like I get deaf for a while and my eyes get stuck on his face. Why does this happen? I think I know. 'Dr. Lisa, Are you listening?'

“It’s fine to start inside, but focus more on the outside.” “Alright, Ma’am, whatever you say.” While they were busy preparing for the party, Gabriel was in his meeting but couldn’t focus because he kept thinking of Samantha. “Good morning, Mr. Aragon.” “Good thing you arrived, because what we’re discussing today is very important.” Gabriel spaced out and didn’t hear what Mr. Aragon said. “Son? Son! Are you listening?” “Sorry, sir.” “You need to focus, because this concerns your company.”

He picks up a glass of water by his far left, wincing a bit in pain as he does so. "Nothing I can't handle." I wave it away. "So, what's the problem?" It's scary how well Daniel has been able to read me in the past few months that we've been together. I thought I had. "Don't worry about it." I push the words past my throat, but he sees through my bullshit. "It's bothering you. And if you don't talk about it, it'll eat you up until you're distracted and unfocused. An unfocused leader is most vulnerable." He pierces me with his stormy blue eyes.

“Professor Totan, Sir; how do I reach the top? I’ve been trying this for two weeks and just as I get a step away from the highest pedestal; something always makes me fall” “You are still celebrating small victories and at each turn. You need to focus and understand that you first need to complete the task before enjoying the rewards. In other words Gemma; stop being distracted. You need to focus more. A real enemy wouldn’t come at you alone. Nor would they stop once they see you fall. A repeat attack is always imminent” Gemma nodded and sighed. Closing her eyes tightly shut she takes a few minutes to breath. Opening her eyes again she saw the professor walk towards her; his calm presense a l

I suspected he was trying to pry a particular information from me, and I was almost willing to give it to him. "His getting distracted..I just feel, this might bring his focus back." I responded, feeling so small under Daniel's gaze. He stopped playing with my tag, and started swirling round me in circles, "I thought you actually wanted me to get the company, but it seems like you are just trying to make Carl work harder," Daniel said, his tone cold and accusing. The smile that was once on his face was all gone, and he looked like he was about to tear me apart, but I wasn't scared of him. After working with someone like Carl, you wouldn't be frightened of Daniel's rage.

The thought of Gloss, vulnerable, flustered, oblivious to the effect he had on me, made my mind race in dangerous directions. I wanted to focus on work, on the reports stacked neatly on my desk, on the endless stream of emails demanding responses. But every sentence I tried to read blurred into Gloss’s wide eyes, his blush, his frantic gestures during the photo-op, the way he had flailed like a miniature tornado of panic and charm. I groaned and slammed my hand on the desk. Focus, Dream. Focus. And then my phone rang. I hesitated, glancing at the caller ID. Mother.

The quiet sounds of him clearing things, setting glasses down with particular care, the specific rhythm of someone who needed something to do with their hands while their head was somewhere else entirely. I had learned to read him through sound over four weeks. The difference between his focused quiet and his processing quiet and his trying not to feel something quiet. This was the last one. “He’s good,” Daniel said. Quiet and direct. “Not just at the job.” “Daniel.” “You know what I mean.” “I know what you think you mean,” I said. “Which is not the same thing.” Daniel was quiet for a moment. The sound of him leaning back in his chair, the familiar creak of it, the particular arrangement of