by Kayt Miller
“Okay. Do you think you should clear this with Graham before you send it?”
“Nah.” He shrugs. “I’d rather ask forgiveness.”
I force myself not to roll my eyes. “You do that a lot, huh?”
He chuckles softly. “I guess. But the thing is, if I don’t do it now, I may chicken out, and I owe this to Lindsay.”
“You do,” I say without hesitation. “Then do it.”
“Right.” Ben reaches out, and I place the paper back in his hands. “I’m doing it.” Turning, he stops and looks back. “Thanks, Alison.”
“You’re welcome.”
And with that, he’s gone.
Five minutes later, my email alerts me to a new message from Ben. I click on it and reread the email, then smile. While it may be career suicide to put something like that out there companywide, it’s the right thing to do. Now if only Sam would do something similar. But it sounds like that’s not going to happen anytime soon.
Chapter Thirty-One
Ben
Walking out of the office Monday night, I’m stopped by a number of my colleagues. Some of them just want to see Sky. Word got around pretty quickly that I had my dog there and the reason for her visit. That earned her some really kind words and gentle head pats. She ate that shit up.
An even larger number of people had something to say about my email—most of it good. A couple people, like Brendan, thought it was ridiculous that I felt the need to bother with that kind of thing, muttering, “Bullshit” and “Career suicide.” He’s probably right, but my conscience wouldn’t let me go on with my life without taking responsibility. That notion was reinforced by most of the other comments. People patted me on the back and said things like “Well done,” and “Way to show leadership.”
Leadership? I’m not sure I’d call it that, but I’m not about to argue.
Just as I’m about to press the Down button for the elevator, I feel a tap on my shoulder. Turning my head, I see Lindsay. “Oh, hey.”
Her voice is soft and sort of broken up. “Thank you, Ben.”
“No need to thank me, Lindsay. I should have done this a long time ago.”
“Yeah.” she laughs a little. “You should have.”
“I wish you’d told me.”
The laugh is gone. “I did.”
“You did? When?”
“The day you got the standing O for the idea. You were walking out of the conference room and I tried, but you were getting back slaps and handshakes. You weren’t listening to me.”
“I-I’m sorry.” Shit. “I’m really sorry.”
Lindsay shakes her head quickly. “No. I know. I mean it. Thank you.” As she’s about to turn, she stops. “I just need for you to understand this from my perspective.”
I set Sky’s crate down so I can give Lindsay my full attention. “Okay.”
“As a woman in a corporate setting, it’s a difficult balance.”
I nod because I think I know what she means, but I want her to say it just so I’m sure.
“If we—women—speak up too much, we’re labeled overbearing or bossy. Women who stand up for themselves at work are described as being shrill, ballbusters, and nasty. So for a year I’ve stewed about what you did, and the more I let it continue, the more it festered. I know I didn’t behave in the most professional way, but it was the only thing I could think of to do to bring it to Graham’s attention.”
“Why did you turn Clive against me?” I really want to know.
“I didn’t. Not intentionally. He and I became friends. We ate lunch together a few times a week, and he was my sounding board. I did the same for him. You weren’t always the best boss.”
“Yeah. I can see that now.”
I have to ask, “Did you feed the bad data to Clive?”
Her face flushes. “I did.”
“Why?”
She rolls her eyes. “I knew you were hoping for a promotion, but I couldn’t let that happen. Not after the rebranding.”
“Doing that makes you no better than me.”
“I know.” She’s no longer looking at me. “You should have double-checked the numbers, though.”
“I trusted Clive. He was always spot-on with that kind of thing.”
“I should apologize to him about that.”
“He didn’t know?”
Lindsay shakes her head. “No.”
“Okay.” At least that part makes me feel a little better. “Thank you, Lindsay.”
“You’re thanking me?” I swear she looks shocked.
“Yes. This has been a real eye-opener for me. I hope it makes me a better friend and colleague—that I’ll be less focused on my personal goals and will be able to see the big picture. I want to be a better person.”
“Well, I hope that works out for you.” She laughs. “I’ll try to do the same.”
“Good.”
I hold my hand out to shake hers. She places her palm in mine, and we shake. I feel a sense of closure that I didn’t realize I needed. It’s all good.
“This isn’t good.” I read the certified letter that was just delivered to my apartment at 8:20 p.m.
To: Ben Schilling
From: Graham Morgan, MFH Human Resources
Re: Paid Administrative Leave
Dear Mr. Schilling,
Effective today, you are being placed on administrative leave pending the outcome of an investigation.
Please understand that this administrative leave with pay does not indicate corrective or disciplinary action on the part of Morgan Financial Holdings. Should Morgan Financial Holdings decide to take further action resulting from this investigation, you will be informed.
You are not to return to the property of Morgan Financial Holdings. You are not to contact anyone from Morgan Financial Holdings or its subsidiaries until you have been advised by MFH Human Resources to do so.
Sincerely,
Graham Morgan
I look down at Sky. “At least it’s paid.” It’s a relief, honestly. And a surprise. I didn’t think this was the way Graham would play this, but if he’s going to be thorough, this is the best way to go.
I can’t help wondering if I’m the only one. I’m tempted to send a text to Alison about this, but I’d better not. It says right in the letter not to contact anyone affiliated with the company, and she’s affiliated. At least she was earlier today.
Ah, hell.
Me: I just received a letter telling me I’m on paid administrative leave pending an investigation.
I only have to wait a minute when I get a response.
Alison: Really?
I take a picture of it and send it to her via text.
Alison: Wow.
Me: You’re surprised?
I know that sounds like an accusation, but that’s not the way it’s intended.
Alison: Of course I’m surprised!
Me: It says I’m not supposed to contact anyone within the company. Are you still working there?
I hadn’t heard one way or the other if she was done or not.
Alison: Yes.
Me: Oh.
Alison: Yeah.
And that’s the final text. I don’t think it’s appropriate for me to say any more, and I know she has to feel the same.
Damn it. This sucks. I feel pain in the center of my chest, and it has nothing to do with my job. No, it has everything to do with the fact that my chance with Alison is over. For now, anyway.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Alison
I reread Ben’s letter. I wonder if Sam got a similar one. What about Lindsay? With her attempt to sabotage Ben’s presentation, she’s not going to come out of this unscathed. When I asked her point-blank if she provided Clive with the wrong data, she didn’t hesitate to tell me the truth.
Paid administrative leave. I’m surprised this is the way Graham Morgan has decided to go. “At least it’s paid.” I can’t help thinking about Sky and her need for physical therapy. If he was outright fired right now, it’s do
ubtful she’d get the care she needs.
Now I need to figure out how to handle all of this new information. What am I investigating? I know who did what and why. What else does Graham need to know? I’m tempted to send him an email now that I know about Ben’s letter, but it states explicitly that he’s not to contact anyone with MFH. If Graham learns he sent me a text, that could be the end for Ben. I don’t want that to happen.
No, I’ll have to wait until tomorrow to find out what my role is supposed to be now.
“You want me to do what?”
Graham stepped into the conference room promptly at nine o’clock Tuesday morning. I’d just gotten logged in, hoping there was an email from the man himself explaining everything. Instead, I’m getting a face-to-face visit.
“I need for you to take over the interim department head role while Sam’s on paid leave.”
So that answers my question about Sam. I’ve also learned about Lindsay. Since she’s already here, working in her office, I’d say she didn’t get the same letter.
Did Graham send Sam one while he’s in the hospital? That’d be cold.
“Isn’t Sam still in the hospital?”
“No. He got out yesterday.”
My mind is still whirling. “You want me to be the interim department head?”
“We need someone to steer this ship of creative minds,” he says with an eye roll. “And right now, there’s too many people involved with this clusterfuck to do it properly. You’re not going to get sucked into the drama, and I need someone with a level head taking charge right now.”
“Okay.”
“Move your stuff over to Sam’s office. I’m calling an all-staff meeting in two hours to announce that, along with some other changes. We’ll meet in the auditorium again.”
“Right. Okay.” Why am I nervous? This isn’t about me. Not really.
“Graham?” I say, stopping him before he can leave.
“What?”
“What about Ben?” I don’t want to let on that I know about his paid leave.
“He’s on paid leave too.”
“Why?”
He sighs and steps farther into the space, letting the door shut behind him. “To be frank, he was gone. But then I saw his email to the entire fucking company apologizing to Lindsay. I knew I needed to give him another shot. The paid leave will, hopefully, let him know he’s on probation. I want to give him some time to think about this job and whether or not he really wants to be here. Two weeks should do it for both of them.”
“So you’re doing this for their benefit.”
“No.” Graham laughs, but it’s humorless. “I’m disappointed in Ben, and I’m really fucking pissed at Sam. They’re not alone. Clive is worthless, but it doesn’t sound like he did anything wrong. And Lindsay’s on my shit list for the data stunt, but I want this to be a wake-up call to the entire department. All of this bullshit is getting in the way of the job they’re supposed to be doing. I’m sick of it, and I plan on letting them all know that. In two hours.”
Without another word, he’s gone.
Slowly, I gather my things. Placing my laptop into my bag, I unplug my portable printer and wind the cord up just as there’s a knock on the door. Looking up, I see Meghan.
“Hey.” I give her a big smile. I haven’t seen her for a few days. “Long time, no see.”
“Right?” She smiles back. “I’m supposed to help you move into Sam’s office.
“Oh?”
“Mr. Morgan stopped by. He also asked me to be your assistant. Temporarily.”
“Really?” I don’t know why, but knowing Meghan is with me makes this much easier. “What about Sam’s assistant?” What was her name again? Gladys? I only met the woman once, but I could tell in that short amount of time she wasn’t my biggest fan. The scowl gave her away.
She shrugs. “No idea.”
“Well, if you want to take this”—I hand her the printer—“the only other things I have are my purse and these.” I hold up my briefcase and my computer bag.
“Great,” Meghan says in her chipper voice. “Let’s do this thing.”
I follow her out the door and around the outer edge of the floor past offices and cubicles until we reach Sam’s office. I’ve never been inside, only outside, next to Gladys’s desk. I look there first and see it’s been cleared out. The only thing on the desk is an ancient computer with the big tower thing next to it.
“I guess that’s your new spot.” I point to the desk. I wonder where Gladys is.
“The first thing to go is that dinosaur of a computer.”
“You’d better call IT to see if they can save her files for you.”
“Good call,” Meghan says with a nod. “I’m on it.”
I slowly step toward Sam’s door. Seeing it’s ajar, I push it open the rest of the way and gasp. “Holy….” I don’t think I should say the next word, but I want to.
“Shit,” mutters Meghan.
She’s right. That’s what the office looks like. Utter shit.
“That place hasn’t been cleaned since he started here. I’d bet money on it”
Meghan’s right. It’s a disaster. And as I step over the threshold, it’s not only a mess with piles of papers and files everywhere, but the furniture is dirty and dusty, there are wrappers and garbage all over, and it smells. Like a locker room. A men’s locker room.
Pinching her nose with her two fingers, Meghan makes a snorting sound. “I’m calling maintenance too.”
“Good plan.” It’s unbelievable. Hasn’t anyone seen this place? Graham? The other managers?
I hear Meghan on the phone talking urgently. I hope she can get someone up here fast. There’s no way I can work in this space in its current condition. The smell alone is making me nauseous.
“They’re sending a crew up in a few minutes.” Meghan sighs. “Apparently they’ve tried to get in here, but Sam wouldn’t allow it.”
“Why not?” Who can work like that?
“Dude’s got problems,” Meghan mutters.
Her comment startles a laugh out of me. “No doubt.”
Chapter Thirty-Three
Alison
I’m sitting in the front row of the small auditorium with Meghan on my right. The seat to my left is empty, but the rest, surrounding us, are filled with marketing department staff and managers. I know they’re aware that Ben is absent, and several people saw the cleaning crew in Sam’s office before this meeting, so I’m sure there’s a buzz about that going around the room. Since Meghan and I were sitting adjacent to the office watching them work, they know I’m involved somehow. Hell, I know they know. I can hear people whispering behind me, and I’ve seen several fingers pointing right at me.
“Thanks for coming everyone.” Graham made his way to the stage and has started the meeting without me even noticing.
Get it together, Ali.
The room quiets immediately as Graham begins to speak. “As you may know, I received a file containing several complaints about the marketing department. Because of those complaints, I hired Alison Kirby to investigate the veracity of the claims in the file, and she’s done just that. As a result, Sam Ford and Ben Schilling have been placed on paid administrative leave until the issues related to those claims can be resolved. In the meantime, I’ve asked Alison to step in as interim department head.”
Grumbling sounds begin to erupt from the crowd, but Graham isn’t deterred. “She’s more than qualified for that position. She’s been chosen because I need someone at the helm who isn’t personally involved with the dra—the issues currently impacting the work being done in marketing.
“In addition, Gladys has decided to take early retirement to spend more time with her grandchildren.”
I look over at Meghan and raise a brow.
Interesting.
“Clive Burgess has accepted a new position as executive assistant to our chief fiscal officer, Molly Adams.”
“Executive assistant?” Meghan whisp
ers at the same time she rubs her thumb and fingers together, indicating money. It’s definitely a promotion. I merely nod.
“There will also be some changes in office locations, which will happen in the next few days.”
Meghan and I look at each other again, both of us curious about those changes. Maybe Ben will get something larger. Clive’s office? Doubtful. But one can hope.
After Graham finishes listing all of the changes, he pauses. Taking the microphone in hand, he walks around the podium so there’s nothing between the man and the department. “I’m only going to say this once.” His voice has dropped an octave, and it’s a little growly. “You all need to get to work. If I have to personally address another issue in marketing, I’m not going to be happy about it. We’ve got a company to run. So if any of you have issues, come to me. Call my assistant and make a goddamn appointment. I want to hear it from you, not in some file that took God knows how many work hours to compile,” he says angrily, but he doesn’t look at anyone in particular.
He takes a breath. “I care about this company and those of you who work for me. I hope these changes show you that much. Ben and Sam will return at some point, and when they do, my hope is the changes and the transition will be seamless and you can all do your jobs with minimal distractions. Thank you.” Graham moves back to the podium, slides the mic back into its stand, and leaves.
“Well, that was interesting,” Meghan says with large round eyes.
“It was.”
When we stand, I notice several people looking my way. Lindsay raises her hand in a small wave, and I do the same in return. Silvia gives me a smile, and Brendan warms my heart with a scowl.
Why are some men such jerks?
Back upstairs, I see the cleaning crew is just finishing up. The person in charge appears to be a man named Hal. At least that’s what the patch on his shirt says. When he approaches me, I stand and wait for his assessment of the office.