2
Henry took his seat at the cherrywood table in the executive conference room. It wasn’t his first time at one of these meetings.
But he’d usually been included when something needed reporting on or to explain a situation to the powers in charge. In the
past, he’d been told to be there. Today he’d been invited. And he knew the difference was monumental.
He looked around the table where the all-white, all-middle-aged male executives of various shapes and sizes sat. Likely all
Ivy leaguers connected by family, school, and job history in ways Henry couldn’t ever achieve. But he’d worked ten times harder
than all of them and by sheer determination had ended up here. He listened as the CFO gave a quick recap of the financials.
He took notes as they discussed what would be on the agenda at the next board meeting. He nodded and laughed at all the right
places, like when Mr. Bakerson commented on his wife’s latest attempt at cooking dinner. “Why she insists on giving the chef
Sunday nights off is beyond me. Is she trying to poison me?”
Henry nodded where he was supposed to and didn’t offer words unless he felt it would add to the conversation.
As the rest of the executives laughed and commented, Henry was briefly distracted by something bright and colorful in the
corner of his eye. In an entire office space full of grays, it was hard not to notice.
He turned just a little as she walked past the glass wall of the conference room down the hall toward the elevator . . . a
white dress and bright red polka-dotted shoes. He didn’t get a glimpse of her face. Just a young woman, head held high, steely
determination set in her posture, a bankers box balanced on her hip.
“I can’t believe you let that one go,” he heard someone say, bringing his attention back to the room full of high-powered
men. “She looks like she’d be the life of the party.”
Henry looked over at Edison Wainwright, a smug look on his face like he’d just done something noble. “Great to look at. But,”
he said with a pause, “she was difficult to work with.” A practiced response, if Henry ever had heard one. And it was the
exact quote anonymously stated in the case file Henry had reviewed for this morning’s termination. An anonymous complaint
meant no one would dig further without having a name attached, yet would certainly still stain an employee’s performance.
One thing Henry was sure of was that the documentation for the termination was airtight. He was the one who had prepared it
all.
Another thing Henry was sure of? Edison Wainwright was a Grade A jackass.
He would have to try hard to forget that smug look . . . and the bitter taste it left in his mouth.
Henry knocked twice on the door before ducking his head in. He raised his eyebrows in question.
“It’s done,” Genevieve said. “She’s gone.” She did not look happy.
Of course, he’d already known it was over. Genevieve was reliable and good at her job. If it needed to be done at ten, she
would do it at ten without question. Plus, Henry had seen the former employee walk out.
“Any issues?” he asked.
“Other than the ones I have personally?” Genevieve asked.
After reviewing the email he’d received yesterday with all the details of the termination for Jia Chung, executive assistant
to Edison Wainwright, chief of staff, Henry had immediately messaged HR to make sure they’d take care of the face-to-face
meeting Monday morning. He wasn’t a coward. He just wasn’t a people person. And termination meetings were technically under
their purview.
“Wanna tell me why this had to be taken care of first thing on a Monday? She can’t possibly be a threat to anyone.”
Henry had wondered the same thing himself. Quite frankly, even looking at the cause of termination, he couldn’t figure out
why everyone seemed especially interested in getting this taken care of so quickly. But it was neither Henry’s place nor his
business to have an opinion. His job was to make sure it got done in a way that wouldn’t end up in litigation for the company.
He shrugged. “The higher-ups wanted it done. The rest is above our pay grade,” he answered. It was a cop-out. Of course, when—and
hopefully soon—he hit the C-suite, he wouldn’t be able to use that excuse any longer. Henry looked forward to that day.
“But why? What’s the big deal? What’s the rush?” Genevieve kept pushing.
“I don’t know.” They were all fair questions and ones he’d asked himself. But his job wasn’t to question the whys. It was to question the hows. “I looked over all the paperwork. And it seems to check out. Wainwright discovered an error on an expense report. He believed
it was foul play, but I couldn’t find enough evidence of that. Still it does seem she made some costly mistakes. And then
there’s the anonymous complaint. All in all, it’s an easy break.” Was it the cleanest termination Henry had ever signed off
on? Probably not. But it was enough to stand up in court.
“That hardly feels like a big enough mistake to, one, fire her and, two, do it first thing on a Monday morning. She must have
pissed someone off. Anonymous complaint, my ass. I just can’t imagine anyone having a beef with Jia. She’s so nice.”
Henry wished Genevieve would just stop talking so they both could sign the separation agreement and be done with it. The only
question Henry concerned himself with was whether the company had cause for termination. Whether it was the right thing to
do or not? Not his problem. Fact was Jia Chung did not fulfill the duties of her job. Since when did being nice have anything
to do with it? Being nice was not a skill needed in the corporate workplace. Henry was proof of that.
In just two years, Henry J. Shin, Esq., had already been promoted to the senior legal counsel, reporting directly to the general counsel, at Bakerson’s Group, a financial powerhouse based out of New York and currently squarely in the top fifty on Nasdaq and the S&P 500.
He worked long hours and did everything asked of him, most of it their own work others were too lazy to do themselves.
They trusted him with all the hard stuff.
Which included, at this point, working with human resources on employment issues.
Henry had become a lawyer because, well, as cheesy as it sounded, he believed in the letter of the law. He believed in rules
and following them. And being held accountable to them. He’d grown up in chaos. His whole life no one had had to atone for
their failures. He didn’t like that one bit.
Following rules scratched an itch in his head that felt satisfying. So as cruel as it was, an employee termination felt like
a win. Someone wasn’t doing their job, they faced the consequences. And Jia Chung had not been doing her job.
HR could worry about the other stuff.
“Gen, let’s not question this one. They wanted it done, it’s done,” he said.
“Yeah, but Jia was harmless. She was a genuinely sweet person.” Regret was written all over Genevieve’s face.
“That’s neither here nor there. And not our concern.” Henry meant it. This was too much thought to be put toward someone at
work. And he wanted it to stop.
Because he didn’t know Jia Chung. And he didn’t want to. But yesterday, when reviewing her case, Henry had spent more time
going over the details of her employment than he had on anything other than his own concerns in a long time. And that rabbit
hole had led him to notice the list of the past three assistants to Edison Wainwright. All of them terminated within short
tenure at Bakerson’s. Henry had never worked with or met any of them, but he now knew their names: Stephanie Novak, Taylor
Ann Graff, and Jia Chung. All women. All young. And considering the man they worked for, likely all attractive.
And for some reason or another, they were either all bad at their jobs, making mistakes along the way, or they had pissed someone off enough to get them fired. And if the latter, knowing Wainwright’s ego, it probably hadn’t taken much.
All of this was what niggled at the back of his brain. And he didn’t need the distraction.
So he tucked it away, where it would stay if Genevieve Gordon would stop asking all the right questions.
Instead . . .
“What I don’t understand is this is the third assistant that he’s fired in less than a year. It’s not a great pattern.”
“That sounds like an HR thing, not a legal thing. As far as I’m concerned, I have to look out for the best interest of the
company. And in New York, we are an at-will state, so we have grounds for termination.”
“God. You’re such a prick sometimes. Always by the book.” Genevieve wasn’t wrong. “I’m just curious why he goes through all
the effort to hire them if he’s just gonna turn around and fire them.”
“Again, Genevieve, that sounds like an HR thing,” Henry replied. If he didn’t engage with her, the quicker he could get this
over with.
“Fine. It’s not even worth it, digging deeper. This company would likely find a way to bury it if there were something there.”
If Henry had a heart, he’d actually feel bad for how discouraged Genevieve sounded.
“He’s a creep, though. You have to agree,” she said. She narrowed her eyes at Henry daring him to disagree.
Henry lifted his hands in surrender. He did not want to get further involved in this conversation.
He agreed with Gen on all of the above. And something didn’t feel right with these assistants being let go.
But he also was right when he told her that there was an error in her performance, grounds for termination in an at-will state.
That’s all they needed. “Let’s just sign the papers, Gen. I have a ton of work to do.”
“Okay, fine. Sucks, though. I really liked Jia,” she grumbled, as she put pen to paper.
She’d said that already.
That was the problem. People wanted to work with people they liked more than with people that got the job done. Henry couldn’t
say he actually liked a single one of his coworkers. Though, he’d have to hang out with them and actually speak to them to
figure out if there was anything to like in the first place. And that was not something Henry was comfortable with.
He was more of a stick-to-himself-and-just-do-the-job kind of guy.
Henry quickly signed on the line next to Genevieve’s signature and walked out of her office.