Chapter 23 – Harrison
TWENTY-THREE
HARRISON
Several days later
“Explain what it is you do here again, Mr. Holmes.” I stared at the last employee on my re-interview list, the Latte Vibes Master.
“Happy to do that, sir.” He smiled, running a hand through his salt-and-pepper hair. “I deliver coffee to department meetings on time and I make personalized drinks for all the managers if they ask—always making sure to master the balance of ingredients properly.”
So, I did hear that right the first time.
“And…” I flipped his job listing over. “You’ve been drawing an eighty-thousand-dollar salary to do this?”
“Yes.” He smiled. “Besides Miss Stone and like three others, I’m the longest tenured employee.”
“How long have you been here?”
“Since he first moved into this building, sir,” he said. “I used to be in record keeping since I had nice handwriting, but he promoted me to this much easier job a decade in and just asked me to protect my old notebooks.”
The Ponzi scheme fact slapped me in the face, and I made a mental note to find a hitman to handle Mr. Lewis.
“Would you like me to prepare a latte for you, sir?” he asked. “I’m not limited to the things on our menu.”
“No, thank you.” I shook my head. “I’ve heard enough.”
“Well… is this the part when I explain why I shouldn’t be fired?”
“I fired you twenty minutes ago.”
“What?” He sat up.
“I said—” I cleared my throat, not wanting to handle business this way. “I thought we discussed that twenty minutes ago.”
“We didn’t.”
Silence.
“Oh. Well, I’ll email you soon with any questions I have. Then again, wait. What happened to the notebooks you kept from Mr. Lewis?”
“I still have them all.”
“Well, scan them to me by the end of this weekend, and I’ll email you after.”
“There are over two thousand notebooks with two hundred pages each…” he said. “Not to mention the phone records and investor transcripts I had to keep. Well—I mean—he didn’t know I recorded those, but I thought it would make me valuable later.”
“I see.” I smiled for the first time this morning. “You’ll be hearing from Ciara soon about getting all those handled a lot faster… and you might’ve just saved your job.”
“So, you were going to fire me?”
“Get out before I change my mind.”
He left my office at the speed of light, and I sent an emergency email to Ciara. Then I noticed that there was no breakfast on my desk.
No fresh coffee.
No notes on my upcoming media interviews.
Are you alive, Miss Stone?
Has something happened to you?
No answer.
I pulled up her calendar and noticed something that wasn’t synced to mine.
Secret Employee Appreciation Day
(Shhh! Two hours max!)
(Do not come if you’re not a week AHEAD in your work)
Confused, I clicked on the location and stood up from my desk.
I headed down to the auditorium and stared at the scene ahead of me in disbelief.
Hundreds of gold and emerald balloons kissed the ceiling. The words “Long Live Sweet Seasons” were etched on a banner that hung from the stage, and music was blasting from the speakers.
No one was working.
They weren’t even pretending to.
Is that champagne they’re serving?
“No matter what happens to this company,” the senior accountant spoke into the mic, “I’m so grateful to have met all of you, and you’ve become my second family. We just have a new evil stepdad at the helm.”
Laughter echoed through the walls, and I debated crashing their little party by taking that mic away.
Andrea’s eyes met mine from the stage and she gasped. Then she rushed toward me.
Seeing her gray dress fluttering temporarily distracted me from the event.
Keyword: Temporarily.
“Good morning, Mr. Cross,” she said. “Is everything okay?”
“My morning coffee and breakfast never arrived and I’m missing quite a few notes.”
“I’m sure those are being delivered to your desk right now.”
“They’re late.”
“No…” She furrowed her brow. “You’re an hour early... It’s just now eight o’clock.”
I glanced at the phone in her hand, catching the time.
Why am I off by so much today?
“You’re supposed to bring a gift to exchange with one of the senior employees.” She changed the subject. “That’s like the entire concept of Secret Employee Appreciation Day.”
“I see,” I said. “In that case, I did bring a gift.”
“Then can you please tell me where the hell it is, so I can add it to the pile?”
“Sure.” I smoothed my tie. “It’s right here.”
“You’re sharing one of your designer ties?”
“No, I’m sharing my presence, Miss Stone,” I said. “My presence is a present.”
“In that case, please let me know where I can return it.”
“I’m going to let that one slide.” I looked at my watch, confirming once again that I was out of sync today. “How much longer does this go on?”
“One more hour.”
“Good. Be sure to tell them they’ll be making up for this playtime later this week.”
“Already did.”
“Good.” I felt the need to have the last word with her. “Don’t say anything else before I walk away.”
“Wait,” she said. “Can I talk to you in private for a second?”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea given our last private conversation.”
Her cheeks flushed red.
“It’s a business conversation,” she said. “Out in the hall, please?”
I gestured for her to lead the way and made sure that we were still in sight of everyone.
“I’m listening, Miss Stone,” I said.
“I went ahead and signed up to take the CPA exam for the next round, and I’m going to attempt to take all the parts at once, so…”
“So?”
“So, I need an additional four days off every month to study,” she said, “starting with tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow is my Wall Street Journal interview.”
“I left super extensive notes on your cloud, and I have two interns ready to step in and shut any not-allowed questions down,” she said. “But we’ve rehearsed it plenty of times, and I think you’ll be fine.”
“I have other meetings and things that need to be handled tomorrow as well,” I said. “Why can’t you take Sunday off?”
“Because I already get Sundays off…”
“Problem solved.”
“Please.” She touched my arm, but then quickly withdrew it. “I can’t possibly study without off days.”
“Fine, Miss Stone,” I said. “Despite giving you a colossal raise and clearing out new office space for you, you can have this Saturday off.”
“What about the other upcoming off days?”
“We’ll talk about that when we get there.”
“Thank you.” She smiled. “Thank you very much.”
This was the part when I knew I should’ve walked away…
“Tell me something,” I said, lingering. “Which senior employee did you draw for gifting?”
“You.”
“How is that possible if I wasn’t invited to play?”
“Well, they made me get you in exchange for staying in their good graces. Don’t worry, I don’t expect you to know anything about funny little knick-knack gifts.”
“So, you didn’t get me anything?”
“I shouldn’t have.” She pulled a small red gift box from her purse and handed it to me. “But I’m a stickler for tradition.”
We stared at each other for several moments, and I was seconds away from picking up where we left off in my office last time.
“Um…” She stepped back first. “Can I go back to the party now?”
“Please do.”
I walked away and carried the gift up to my office. Setting it on my desk, I stared at it—confused.
I couldn’t remember the last time anyone bought me a present…
I handled a few emails and financial sheets before tugging on the ribbon. I peeled away the paper, revealing another wrapped gift and a mini book.
The Most Boring Short Stories in the World
She’d attached a small note under its cover.
Since you struggle to sleep so much, I figure this might help. 99% of the people who’ve tried it agree.
I unwrapped the other gift and saw a set of coffee mug sleeves with my name on them, with initials W.B.E. in tiny print. And another note.
The cardboard sleeves exist on our cups for a reason, but since you NEVER seem to use them for more than a few seconds, here are some custom leather ones that seem more your style.
You’re welcome.
W.B.E = Worst Boss Ever.
(Which you ARE, but… thank you for the raise & upcoming new office.)
I placed one of the sleeves around my freshly delivered coffee and took a sip. Then I called Ciara.
“I can’t talk to you right now,” she answered. “I’m at a secret party where everyone hates you.”
“I’m well aware of the party,” I said. “Why would they invite you, though?”
“Because they don’t know how close we are, and I’m not telling them.” She laughed. “What do you want?”
“I need you to do me a personal favor when you get a chance.”
“Say what you want.”
“I need a gift made for Andrea,” I said. “First, find someone who can make a custom porcelain cup with real gold etching and the utensils to match.”
“What words do you want on it?”
“Best executive assistant ever.”
“Okay… Is that all?”
“Go to Cartier and get her a watch from their Panthère line,” I said. “Make sure it has diamonds around the band and a yellow gold bracelet she can wear with mostly everything.” I paused. “Then tell the dealer to engrave her name and ‘Since you struggle with telling time’ on its back, please.”
“You’ve never bought me a Cartier watch…”
“That fact isn’t changing today.”
She laughed. “I’ll have these things to you by the end of the day.”
“Thank you.”