Chapter 34 Holly #2
I’m thanking my lucky stars that Janey also gossips about salaries, and that I’ve become pretty good, over all these years of negotiating with vendors, at doing quick math in my head.
“She drives a hard bargain.” Griggs laughs, then looks directly at me. “But let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”
Motherfucker.
“She’s highly qualified,” Dennis interjects, “with much more experience than I had when I took the job. I think the salary increase is merited.” And for the first time in our relationship, I find myself wanting to hug that dull, sweet man.
“It’s settled, then,” Buck says. “I’ll have our lawyer draw up a contract.”
“One more thing,” I tell them, looking directly at Griggs. “If I take the job, I’m bringing Reginald Lewis back as chief of security. He’s excellent, the best there is.”
Griggs’s jaw clenches, but he stays silent.
“I always liked the guy.” Buck shrugs. “Sure, let’s give him another chance.”
I let out a sigh of relief. Janey can help me track down Reginald.
Who knows if he’ll want the job, but at least I can offer.
And my raise will help Eli pay for an excellent lawyer.
I’ll need to figure out how to talk to Joel about it tonight at dinner.
I’m sure he knows a good criminal defense attorney.
Even with so much uncertainty—with so many unanswered questions rushing through my mind—I still feel triumphant.
I’m about to be the first woman to run this place in its hundred-and-forty-year history.
And, sure, I’ll only be interim at first, but I’ve successfully negotiated an excellent salary, my work will be worth every penny of it, and in light of Saturday night’s turn of events, I definitely need the money.
Maybe, if I really pinch pennies, I can chip in and help the Castillos find a new place to live.
I’ve never met them, but it just about does me in when I think about that family being evicted, all because of Griggs.
Plus, I’ve relied on the generosity of others a time or two in my life, and I’m not ashamed to admit it.
That’s how life works, or at least how it should work.
Dennis struggles in his chair to extend his right hand toward me, and I reach out to shake it. “Congrats, Holly,” he says, his voice feeble. “You’ll do great.”
“I’m sure she will,” Buck says, and then he turns to face Griggs.
“Why don’t you go on and give her the keys to the kingdom, buddy,” he says, patting Griggs on the shoulder—again.
“No need for Dennis here to exert himself any more than necessary”—he tosses a pitying look in Dennis’s direction—“in his condition.”
“It would be my pleasure,” Griggs drawls, then steps to the other side of the table to retrieve a full set of master keys, which he then dangles in the air, and I listen as their subtle metal clink cuts through the thick silence that has suddenly descended on the room.
“I’m really looking forward to our close working relationship, Holly,” he says.
To my profound shock, I feel a sudden rush of pity for this sad man.
He looks so perfectly put together; he acts so smooth and debonair.
He seems always to be entirely in control.
He smiles and laughs, he plays all the parts so well.
But, wow. He is broken. It dawns on me that Griggs Johnson has not the slightest idea what makes a life worth living.
He knows nothing of love, of joy, of friendship, of community.
All he knows, all he cares to know, is power.
For the briefest of moments, I wonder what happened to break him so entirely, to make him such an empty shell of a human being.
But I don’t have time to muse about this man’s childhood, to worry about his daddy issues or household trauma.
I have my own beautiful life to save, and that of the person I love even more than life itself.
I’m going to find a way through this because I have to.
And no matter what suffering Aidan or I endure because of Griggs Johnson, I’ll forever be grateful that the life I’ve built with my son is—and always will be—infinitely better than his pathetic existence.
It seems to dawn on Griggs that I have no intention of responding.
I’ve taken a pass on my turn in his insidious game.
So he tries a new tactic: He extends his hand as if to pass me the keys, but releases them before I have time to catch them.
They land on the floor in front of me. We both crouch down at the same time to pick them up.
“Welcome to the next phase of our game,” he hisses against my ear, like the snake he is.
I recoil at the words, aware that we are partly hidden under the conference table and the others can’t see or hear the exchange.
“When I get the pleasure of watching you enjoy, for the briefest of moments”—he pauses, smiles so wide that I can see his gums—“the fabulous job that you can’t permanently land without my help.
” He smiles even wider. “Not here. Not anywhere. Not while I’m the boss.
I could get you fired tomorrow and then make damn sure no other club in this city hires you.
” He cocks his head to the side, studies my expression closely.
“But I’m feeling generous, so I’ll give you another chance to play by my rules. ”
All the familiar anxieties threaten to rush back in, but after I pick up the keys from the floor, I find myself standing tall, and I’m surprised to feel a sudden release of tension from my body—a tension I’ve been holding for so long that it’s served as my constant companion over these many months. Now, it’s gone.
I don’t have to worry about whose turn it is, or about who wins, because this isn’t my game. These aren’t my rules, and they never will be.
Tucking the keys into my suit pocket, I thank the gathered gentlemen for the opportunity, then turn to leave.
I’ve got a family game night to attend.