Chapter Eleven
Asher
Monday morning, I walked into the office I shared with Emma, holding two coffees and one of her favorite pastries from Daily Perks. It wouldn’t hurt to enhance my apology with coffee and food.
I pushed the door open. Six forty-five. I had time. Wanting to give her space, I hadn’t tried to contact her again after I received her text.
Imagine my surprise, when I found Emma already in the office, typing away at the computer.
“Good morning, Emma.”
“Morning,” she answered, but I could tell she was distracted.
“You’re here early.” I set her coffee and pastry down next to her keyboard. She glanced at the food.
“What’s this?”
“Coffee and pastry, along with an apology for Friday night.”
She kept her gaze on me for a moment. “Thank you, but not necessary. We’re fine.” Then turned back to the computer screen.
We’re fine. Her words bounced around in my head. How could we be fine? I’d acted like an ass as I had been so eloquently told by my friends Saturday.
“I do appreciate the coffee and food.” She slid her own mug aside, picked up the cup I’d brought, and took a sip. “Perfect.” Her attention remained focused on her computer screen after taking a bite of the danish.
“Why did you come in so early?” I sat down and booted up my own computer.
“I had an idea yesterday, and I can’t remote into your system, so I played with it on mine. Now, I’m going to see if I can get your program to accept it. If it works, we might be able to complete the integration faster.” Another bite of danish.
The excitement in her voice made me smile. “I’m not telling you what you should do, but weekends should be for you and your pleasure.” I didn’t like that she worked on her days off.
“It was nothing.” Her gaze never wavered from her monitor and the code running on the computer.
“Emma, you don’t need to work weekends.”
“I know, but sometimes when an idea comes to me, I have to pounce on it. You should know that.” A bite of danish and a sip of coffee.
I did. “Like Friday night at the restaurant?”
“That wasn’t something I needed to be on the computer to do; taking notes was good enough. For this, I had to go into the code to see if what I was thinking was even possible.”
“Make sure you log the time you spent.”
“What?” She turned her head suddenly, as though she’d just registered what I’d said. “I’m a contractor.”
“An hourly one and I want to make sure you get paid for your time.” Was she not aware of why it was so important to log her hours? The last thing any company needed was an IRS audit, and I’m not talking about taxes.
“No worries,” she said and waved her hand in dismissal.
“Emma.” My voice dropped.
“Damn,” she whispered as the scrolling code stopped and the last line flashed red. “It didn’t work.” Her shoulders slumped. “Maybe if I adjust the values once again.” She finished off the food.
I shook my head. “Emma, your attention, please.”
“What?” Irritation flashed in her eyes.
“My name may not be on the bottom line of your contract, as you so eloquently pointed out, but this is my department. It’s my ass on the line for compliance issues, be those mandates state, federal, corporate, and/or departmental.
You will log the time you spent on the code on Sunday, so that you’ll get paid for it. ” I wasn’t going to back down.
“It’s not a big deal.”
“Again, it’s my ass on the line, so I’ll decide what’s a big deal. Your contract is very specific about compliance with all federal and state laws, and corporate regulations.” I faced her. “How many hours did you work?”
“I’m not sure.” She rubbed her forehead. “Like I said, it doesn’t matter.”
“As I said, the contract is specific and doesn’t leave room for flexibility.
You have two choices: Put the time on your time sheet or go home now and don’t come back until tomorrow in order to level out the time you worked on Sunday.
You weren’t in the office, so I can’t go back and check the keystroke logs, and there’s no time stamp on the program modifications. ”
Her eyes grew wide. “I have work to do.”
“I appreciate that, but my opinion doesn’t matter.
What matters is company policy, contract terms, and state and federal regulations.
All of that aside, Fantasies, Inc. believes in paying its employees and contractors when they are working, that includes weekends, though we do discourage weekend work, as I’ve mentioned.
” Then it clicked. “You did read the employment contract, right?”
“I skimmed it.” Her gaze lowered.
I shook my head. “I asked you if you read the contract.” I could play hardball too.
I reached over and switched off her monitor.
The program was running, but the monitor was dark.
The outrage on her face almost made me smile.
Maybe I was being heavy handed, but I wasn’t going to risk my job because of her tantrum.
She reached out to turn the monitor back on, and I captured her hand in mine. “Leave it. It will still be there in an hour.”
“An hour? Asher, I have work to do. Let go.” She tugged at her hand.
I wanted to keep her hand in mine, but this was a contest of wills. I let it go. “We’re going to go over the employee contract, and you’re going to log your hours from yesterday.”
Her eyes flashed annoyance. “I’ll do it later.”
I knew she was trying to get me to let her go ahead and work, but this was a no-go for me.
I wouldn’t let any of the employees slide like this, and I wasn’t about to let Emma get away with this crap.
Besides, if the C-suite crew found out she wasn’t logging her time, they’d terminate the contract faster than I could snap my fingers, then fire me for cause.
“No, Emma. Now.” I stood and waited.
She sighed loudly, stood and followed me to the small conference table where I pulled out a chair for her. She stood there.
“Sit.”
“Neanderthal fits.” She huffed and sat.
I leaned forward and braced on my open hands so that we were almost nose to nose.
“This is business and has nothing whatsoever to do with any personal opinions you may have about me.” I retrieved our drinks and food from the workstation and took them over to the table.
Then I picked up the phone and called HR.
Miles’ assistant, Sarah, answered. I asked her to have someone bring me Emma’s employment contract.
When I sat down, Emma was glaring at me with her arms folded across her chest. “I don’t know what the point of this is.”
“The point is that you are a contractor for Fantasies, Inc. We are paying you. Again, your employment contract is very specific.”
“Is it really that big of a deal?”
“Yes.” A knock on the door brought me out of my chair. I took the contract from Sarah with a thank you, closed the door, and placed the papers in front of Emma.
“Oh my, look at this.” I pointed to her initials in the bottom right corner of each page.
“This means you read it. Every word. But you just admitted that you”—I raised both hands and gestured air quotes—“ skimmed it. Significant difference. Now…Read. It. All of it. Word for word.” For about two seconds, I actually considered insisting that she read it aloud. Quit while you’re ahead, buddy.
She sighed and picked up the document.
I watched her as she read. Her hair framed her face, making her look too young for me. Again, what was I thinking? I was drawn to her in a way I’d never been drawn to a woman before, not even my ex. And this jousting—there was no other word for it—between us only made the attraction more intense.
Just thinking about my ex should have put an end to all thoughts of anything with Emma, but it didn’t. I wanted to find out more about her. I wanted to find out what she thought, what she felt, and discover whether we were compatible in the bedroom.
Whoa! Cue massive record scratch. Way too early for thoughts like that. She’d only been here a week, and so far, all I’d done was piss her off. More than once.
“This isn’t right,” she muttered.
Her voice pulled me out of my head. “What isn’t?”
“This says if I work more than forty hours in a week, then I get paid overtime, and I’m not allowed to work more than ninety hours in a two-week period without the director’s permission. Your permission.”
“That’s right.”
When John Boyd started the company, one of his concerns was avoiding burnout, an extremely widespread problem in the profession.
I supported his position wholeheartedly.
As a result of his provisions regarding work-life balance, FI had low employee turnover, some of the lowest in the state, and high employee satisfaction stats.
“That doesn’t make sense. How does the company function like that?”
“It functions like a well-oiled machine. When employees have a balanced work and home life, they’re happier, more productive, and take care of themselves.”
She shook her head. “Shouldn’t that be up to the employee?”
“It is the employee’s decision. No one forces them to leave or stay. Why do you view promoting a good work-life balance as a problem?” I was curious what she was thinking.
“A lot of people are single, without family. Sometimes work is better than sitting at home alone.”
I straightened. “What you’re describing is using you job as an emotional crutch. You don’t have a family?”
“I do, but we’re not close.” She hesitated, and I wondered about the remark, which now prompted a question I wanted an answer to, but not now.
“They live in California.”
“Depending on where they live that’s only a little over a two to a three hour plane ride.”
Emma shrugged. “Are you close to your family?”
“Yes. I have dinner with my parents at least once a month. While my two siblings have moved out of state, we keep in contact.”
“Nice. Were you born in Washington?”
“Yes. What about you?”
“California.”
“Any brothers or sisters?” At least she was talking to me.
“Two older sisters.”
“I’m a middle kid.” I pondered her being the youngest. Was she anything like my younger sister, always vocal to get attention. I didn’t think so. Emma seemed quiet and reserved. Or was she?
Friday night she didn’t have any issues chatting with Marcus and Cassie or telling me off. She was a complex puzzle I wanted to figure out.
“Back to this contract. How do you enforce it?”
“The managers and directors know their employees, and the employees know the rules. If someone logs in after hours or remotely on a weekend, it’s flagged and sent to the employee’s boss.”
“I told you about my working yesterday. If I hadn’t told you, you wouldn’t have known.”
“True, but that’s only because you don’t have remote access and didn’t come into the office where the keycard logs would have shown when you came in, and the keystroke logs would have revealed what you had done while on the network.
” I could almost see the wheels turning as everything fell into place.
“It’s why I wanted you to read your employment contract.
We encourage our employees to take time off, and while you might think it’s not enforceable, it is. ”
“The way you describe it sounds like a form of micromanagement. There’s no way for you to know when I log onto my laptop at home.” She sat back in her chair, looking pleased, no, almost smug.
“You’re right.” She was, because her laptop belonged to Tri-O-Tech. “And no one is preventing you from working on whatever you like…as long as it is not in connected any way to Fantasies, Inc. I’m trusting you to abide by the terms of the contract as agreed.”
Emma rolled her eyes. “Unfair.”
I rubbed my upper lip so she wouldn’t see my grin. I had a feeling she was a by-the-book type of employee once she was made aware of the rules. “Very fair. Keep reading.”
“All right.” She flipped the page and continued to read. The rest of the contract was pretty boiler plate, but this way, I could be sure she’d read it. When she finished reading it, she tapped a fingernail on the desk then looked at me. “Can I get HR to change the contract?”
“You can talk with Miles, but I doubt he’ll change it.”
She sighed. “Fine. No working on weekends unless I feel it’s necessary.”
“And in accordance with the contract specifications?”
Emma nodded, then seemed to have a second thought and spoke aloud. “Yes, Asher, in accordance with the contract specifications.”
Success. I relished this small win. Now to figure out a way I could fill her weekends.
“I’m glad we’ve got that out of the way.
” I glanced at my watch. “Since you got here early, why don’t we go to the café and celebrate with a real breakfast. The danish was fine, but I need more than that. You might too.”
John had made it clear that it didn’t matter to him if employees never used their cards for food or they did it all day long. The food policy and insistence on the work-life balance made for a great environment. Turnover in the company was less than five percent.
For IT, turnover was almost unheard of. I worked with my employees to ensure flexibility in a hybrid environment and encouraged use of all the perks the company offered.
“How did it get to be nine already?”
“It’s funny how fast time goes.” I stood up and cleaned up the table.