Chapter 2
“You need to get up to speed.” Febe’s chilled voice rippled through the room.
Haylee jerked her head up, her pen stilling on her notepad. Nerves had rumbled through Haylee’s stomach nonstop until the midmorning meeting. Well, to be fair, they didn’t stop even when the meeting started.
Moments like this only added to them.
“I’m up for the task, Ms. Aarts.” Haylee assured her, hoping the wavering of her voice wasn’t noticeable. She had never been one to care what others thought, but this job was different from all the others. It mattered so much more. She could make a difference here.
“Good.” Febe dropped her gaze to her computer screen.
Haylee never understood what was going through Febe’s mind. Surely, she couldn’t be expected to know everything Cherish did. Not yet anyway. She knew she was a fast learner, but the amount of information kept in Cherish’s head couldn’t possibly be learned in just nine months. Forget even a year of working there.
Febe was quietly brilliant for sure. Haylee had never seen a smarter woman in her life. She only hoped she could be half as smart someday. And Febe rarely raised her voice, but there was never a doubt in Haylee’s mind when the imposing woman was yelling in silence. She had this quiet sort of disappointment and anger that chilled Haylee to the bone. This was one of those moments that was right in the middle of anger and annoyance.
Cherish sat next to Haylee but didn’t seem fazed by the retort. Perhaps Febe wasn’t as angry as Haylee had first interpreted. She was always doing that, thinking the worst of situations when they weren’t really that bad. But on this side of the desk, Febe imposing over them from her side, she had no doubt who held all the power in the room, and Haylee was at the bottom rung of this ladder.
“Haylee, I need you to start collecting résumés.” Febe’s voice pulled Haylee from her internal spiral of hell.
Had she missed something? Haylee scribbled aimlessly on her notepad, trying to catch up with the conversation. “All right. Any position in particular?”
She hated asking questions because it always made her feel less than, as if she hadn’t anticipated correctly. It was her job as a personal assistant to do that for her boss, but no matter how many times she tried, Cherish always beat her to it.
“Just to keep on file.” Febe clicked on her mouse, doing something on the computer that Haylee couldn’t see. She wished she could. Anything that would give her more insight into how Febe thought, how her business mind worked, was exactly what she needed.
They worked in the top mental health company in the United States, and Febe’s business plan was on point. Learning from her could make or break a person. Wellbeing Works had been so ahead of the game when it came to other online services. Haylee had been awed when she’d discovered the company and learned all she could about the person who made it possible.
This could be exactly what Haylee needed.
A company that understood mental health, was supportive of their employees, and could help her do exactly what she had been passionate about since she was a teenager—helping those on the fringes.
This was a chance. She had Febe’s full attention right now. She could pitch her plan, and she could make all her dreams come true. Without thinking, Haylee leaned forward as the words spilled out of her mouth.
“Ms. Aarts,” Haylee said, with far more confidence in her tone than she’d ever thought possible.
Febe slowly raised her gaze, eyeing her as if she was a mere annoyance.
“I…uh…” Shit. She should have planned this better. What was her brother always saying? Think first, act second? That was a lesson she wasn’t good at learning. “I was wondering if you were thinking about adding a particular specialty to Wellbeing Works. I mean, we have all kinds of therapies out there for people, we have focuses on the queer community, on single parents, I just…” Fuck, she was screwing this up royally. Where was the courage and confidence that she longed for all her life? Right. Stuck back in her sixteen-year-old devastated self.
Febe stared at her, those cold blue eyes pinned on her. Her lips thinned, and she waited patiently for Haylee to continue.
It was now or never. “What about people who are trained to work with veterans and their friends and families? We could add a specialty for that. Since I’m looking for résumés…” she trailed off, not finishing her thought.
Her stomach was in her throat, threatening to spew bile all over Febe’s pristine desk. Why was she so bad at this? She just wanted to help those who struggled so much, those who sacrificed so much for all of them.
“We do work with veterans.” Febe went back to her computer, her focus completely off Haylee.
“I know that.” Haylee forced a smile to her lips, but it wasn’t genuine. “But what if we had people trained to work with veterans and their families? Then we could market specifically to them.”
Febe flicked her eyes to Haylee, giving her one hard look before turning her gaze to Cherish. The conversation was finished. Haylee knew that much, and the opportunity she had seized was gone.
Her hope fizzled.
“What’s on the agenda this week?” Febe asked Cherish.
“We have five therapists going on parental leave in the next four months, so we need to work on adjusting their schedules and finding other therapists who can take on their clients temporarily.” Cherish stared at her calendar. “They all want to take the twelve weeks offered by the company.”
Febe blew out a breath, her lips pursing. “Twelve weeks?”
“It’s standard now, Ms. Aarts.”
“Wasn’t standard when I was in school,” Febe muttered and clenched her jaw. “Find how many clients we need to find coverage for. Then we can adjust. Perhaps hire someone in temporarily.”
“Yes, Ms. Aarts.” Cherish jotted down notes.
“That’s something those résumés would be helpful for.” Febe pinned Haylee in her chair with a look, forcing her to shrink as she sat there.
Haylee’s stomach sank. How could she have known that was what Febe was thinking about? She wasn’t a mind reader. But she had been there for nine months, and she should do better than that.
Although they did have over a hundred therapists working for them, they communicated directly with Cherish for everything. Most also worked remotely with only a few coming into the office. Precious was one of the therapists who dared to venture in on a daily basis. Despite Febe’s hatred of her.
Was this also a stop gap in case they did end up firing Precious?
Haylee bit her tongue. She wanted to make her point. Veterans and their families needed help. Haylee knew that firsthand—anyone in her generation did—and she wasn’t going to let those affected by the ravages of war not have access to good mental health care. They deserved it.
“Cherish, will you bring me the profit and loss statement for the last month?”
“When would you like it?”
“This afternoon. I’ll go over it in the morning.”
Cherish wrote a note down. How many notes did it take Cherish to get through the day? Good thing they weren’t sticky notes, they’d get through a pack every hour. Cherish settled her pen down quietly, and a tense silence reverberated through the room.
Cherish held herself perfectly still as she leaned toward Febe. “We need to talk about the gala, Ms. Aarts.”
Febe visibly stiffened.
Haylee’s ears perked up. Whatever this was, it was important. Something was about to go down. Haylee had heard rumors about the gala last year, but hadn’t been told anything concrete. When Cherish had asked her for help with it, that had been what she’d needed to confirm. And the reaction from Febe told her exactly what she needed to know. Something massive had happened.
And Haylee wanted to know what.
“When is it?” Febe’s voice was almost as cold as it had been when Haylee had dared ask her earlier question.
“In a few months.”
Febe pursed her lips, her eyes closing. Her cheeks reddened. Haylee leaned forward in her chair, attempting not to look too interested. The last thing she needed was to get on Febe’s bad side again. What could she glean from that look? Absolutely nothing. She didn’t understand the mysterious Febe Aarts to save her life. And no matter how many times she tried, she always seemed to fail at that too.
Keep a job?
Fail.
Keep a date?
Fail.
Pay her bills?
Fail.
Figure out her boss so she wouldn’t be fired?
Utter fail.
Spectacular fail.
This would only be the next in the long string of jobs in her wake. There was no doubt in Haylee’s mind of that, but she had to try her damnedest, didn’t she? She couldn’t turn thirty-four and be onto job number ten, could she? Especially losing out on a job like this.
This was the job of her dreams.
Almost.
“I mention it now so we can be prepared for the day.” Cherish shifted a glance to Haylee, like she was supposed to know what the hell was going on. “I’d like to invite Stuart, if you wouldn’t mind.”
Haylee turned to look closely at Cherish’s face. Who the hell was Stuart? Could this actually mean Febe’s lapdog had a life outside of work? Or was it Febe’s lover that kept her good and fucked on the side? Nope. That definitely wasn’t the case. Febe was as dry as they came. She hadn’t had sex—
“Please do.”
While Cherish’s question had piqued Haylee’s curiosity, she was flabbergasted by Febe’s response.
Was Febe's voice soft? Airy? Was it full of emotion?
Yes.
But which emotion?
Haylee couldn’t figure that one out either. For someone who was so good at reading situations with friends and lovers, when it came to reading bosses, she was awful. It had cost her so many jobs. She couldn’t let it cost her this one as well.
This was a job she loved, and it was one she had worked her tail off to get and to keep so far. This one was exactly the kind of position she wanted for her future. More than that, it was a job she needed. Her eviction was about to go through, and she needed to sell her car to keep the creditors off her ass.
How much better could it get than that?
Cherish blew out a breath as they stepped out into the main office where their two desks faced each other. Haylee had thought it odd at first. Every time she looked up, she would see Cherish hard at work, bent over her desk doing who knew what. Protecting Febe, that was for sure. Cherish had a line on Febe and any time someone was going to interrupt her she stepped in between them. And she cherished her bark.
“This gala,” Cherish started as soon as Febe’s door was closed. “I’m going to need your help with it.”
“Sure. No problem.” But it was months away. That sounded like she wasn’t going to be fired any time soon at least. That had to be a good sign. Right?
She was such a failure. How no one else managed to see it in seconds was beyond her. She’d somehow managed to fool Cherish, but Haylee was pretty sure she didn’t fool Febe for a second. Febe had to know how much of a failure she was. It would explain why Febe dismissed her every chance she got.
Setting up her desk, Haylee started the preparations to look for new résumés to keep on file. But for what? She still wasn’t entirely sure. Therapists, obviously, but was there something else Febe hadn’t said? Something Haylee was supposed to have figured out? Either way, it would be difficult to get résumés if there was no actual position open or immediately coming up. With a sigh, she started where she knew and began looking for résumés. Maybe she could look for those specializing in veterans and family, just in case. It felt shitty to have to do that without having gotten any interest or affirmation from Febe.
Sure, she’d screwed up the presentation, but the idea had merit. Febe should have seen that. Or was it because Haylee was the one who brought it up?
Why did Cherish get everything she wanted?
Haylee had noticed that the moment she started working there. If Cherish asked for something, Febe gave it. But why?
“What was your idea?”
“Huh?” Haylee looked over the walkway between their desks, meeting Cherish’s bright blue gaze. Cherish tossed her hair over her shoulder as she settled her notepad right where it belonged, in the center of her desk.
“What was the idea you were trying to present to Ms. Aarts?”
“Oh.” Haylee clenched her fists. Fear stole over her, grasping onto her heart and shutting up any type of hope she had for it. “It’s nothing.”
“It’s not nothing if you have an idea.”
Haylee thinned her lips. “We have a focus in queer therapy. But there’s such a need to have a specialty on veterans and their families, especially because they move so often. What could it mean to have consistency of care at the touch of a computer screen? I just thought…” Haylee’s voice wobbled, and any gumption she had vanished. “It was a stupid thought.”
“It’s not.” Cherish eyed her. “It’s not a stupid idea, Haylee. And you’re right. It is a need. It’s something we can work on.”
Haylee didn’t respond. Cherish was just placating her, and she wanted nothing to do with it. Her heart hurt. And she needed to talk to her brother to get out of the funk she found herself in. That was the easiest way to find her center again. He’d always managed to do that for her. Haylee looked at the browser on her computer again. “Why does she want résumés?”
“Because there’s going to be some turnover, but mostly because Ms. Aarts is always looking for the next best thing.”
“And what’s that?”
“No clue.” Cherish sat down heavily at her desk. “She doesn’t let me in on those ideas until she’s done all her research, but you can bet that’s why she wants the profit and loss statements for this month and quarter.”
Quarter? Haylee must have missed that request when she’d been too focused on failing at her attempt to get Febe to listen to her idea. She’d done enough profit and loss statements throughout her years of working to know that they were the bread and butter of any business. Surely Febe had all those numbers in her head. Why would she need to look at the actual statements? What would they tell her that she didn’t already know?
God, Haylee had so much to learn about running a business. But she didn’t really want to do that, did she? She just wanted the product. She didn’t want to create something from nothing. No, pairing with an already established business would be the best for her ideas. She didn’t have the attention span to do this on her own.
“Haylee?”
“Sorry. What did you say?” Haylee forced herself to look up into Cherish’s gaze.
That gaze that was full of certainty. Cherish canted her head to the side. “Résumés?”
“Already working on that.” Did Cherish sense her unease? Did she sense her insecurity?
“Good.” Cherish rolled her shoulders and went to work.
How was Haylee going to manage it? Keep her job while also making it something she wanted to keep. Something worth keeping. How was she going to push past her impostor syndrome to make something of herself?
Was that even possible?