Pink Slips and Glass Slippers

by J. P. Hansen

  Lucy laughed and removed her glasses. “Henry’s been dying to talk to you. He’s been looking for you the past couple of days—”

  “I took a little time off to spend with my family.”

  Lucy’s chest tightened. Ruth had gossiped the scoop and Lucy realized she couldn’t let on—even though she wanted to probe in the worst way, thinking he looked so boyish and cute with his hair mussed up. She wished she worked for Chase just for the view.

  “He should be off soon and he’d kill me if I let you go before he saw you. I’ve never seen him this happy. Can I get you something?”

  Chase smiled and said, “A Le Peep chocolate croissant and espresso would sure be nice.” His grin bordered on laughter as he considered his request.

  Lucy read his face, then raised her eyebrows, and said, “Seriously, it’s no problem. I’d be happy to do it for you.”

  “I was just teasing, Lucy—”

  “Can I at least get you a coffee? It’s not espresso, but it’s good and hot.”

  “I’d love a coffee—if it’s no problem?”

  Lucy practically jumped from her chair, saying, “It’s no problem at all. I’d be happy to get you that croissant…”

  “Just coffee. Thanks though.”

  While Lucy was away, her phone buzzed and then Henry’s voice boomed, “Lucy, can you bring me the Stabilitas folder? Lucy? Lucy? You there?” Henry burst through the door and nearly fell into Lucy’s desk.

  “Chase! I’ve been looking all over for you. Ruth said you were away.”

  Chase wondered what excuse Ruth used—she covered for him better than he could himself. He said, “I took a few days for family time.”

  “Well, you should do it more often. Have you seen the news? I can’t stop watching that CNBC piece.” Henry looked animated.

  “I missed the CNBC piece…good news?”

  “Good news? I’d say so. The stock popped three bucks before the CNBC babe turned it over to Joanne’s closer—that Wall Street guy she found was perfect. They practically read the script verbatim. Joanne’s PR firm sure earned their pay.”

  Chase’s stomach roiled every time Henry bragged about Joanne. One of Henry’s hand-picked board members, Chase sensed she had his boss’s ear—and more. Henry spent an inordinate amount of time in New York City, and Chase guessed it wasn’t all business.

  “I missed it. What did they say?”

  “I sent it out to all employees on email.”

  “I, uh, I just returned to work this morning…I haven’t gone through all my emails.”

  “Well, hang on. You gotta see this one. I can’t stop watching it—and hell, I wrote it.”

  Henry resembled a Stone Age man at a computer seminar plopped in front of his monitor. Chase figured Henry needed Lucy to help him with the on/off button. Chase said, “Did you save the file to your desktop?”

  “Huh?” Henry looked uncharacteristically bewildered.

  “Never mind. Check your sent file for the email and just click on the link.”

  Instead of another huh, Henry just stared at Chase. Chase said, “Did Lucy send the email?”

  “Of course. You know I hate doing those goddam emails.”

  Chase wondered if Henry needed Lucy to say “right, left, right, left, right, left,” when he walked. Chase shuffled around Henry’s imposing mahogany desk, then in a few clicks, hit the file, standing as Henry remained seated.

  The video opened with an attractive brunette woman in a dark blue business suit: “Though Hurricane Katia continues heading toward the Florida coast, a Carolina company isn’t evacuating just yet. Some great breaking news out of Pharmical Solutions today. The drug company announced plans for a strategic workforce reduction which will allow them to globalize their reach while still cutting costs. This will pave the way for new markets like Asia and Europe. Leading the charge is Stabilitas, a breakthrough anti-depressant drug. Many analysts have upgraded the stock. Joining us now is Michael Pratt, president of Pratt Securities. Michael, your firm recently upgraded Pharmical to strong buy. Tell us what you see...”

  “Pharmical should see unprecedented growth, both domestically and in emerging markets. Their new globalization initiative is brilliant and we like their next generation of drugs. The anti-depressant market has tremendous upside potential, making Pharmical the shining star of Research Triangle.”

  “Thank you Michael.”

  Though Henry had viewed the video a dozen times, he looked ready to salivate. He turned and stared at Chase with Doberman eyes. Chase just glared at the CNBC logo on the blank screen.

  “Not bad, huh? Joanne and I spent all weekend in New York writing that. I never thought she could get it on all the news shows by Monday. She never ceases to amaze me. Oh, I could just kiss her.”

  Chase pondered the time it would take to write that short script, and guessed Henry had enough time left over to kiss her alright—and then some. With his love-struck boss behaving like this, he didn’t feel as guilty about his couple of glorious hours with Brooke, thinking, that reminds me.

  “I was blindsided by the mass firing yesterday.”

  “What do you mean?” Henry frowned.

  “I was off for a day and a half and when I returned, an entire division was obliterated. Why wasn’t I in the loop?”

  “I looked for you Friday and Ruth said you couldn’t be reached. She made it sound like you were on a flight. Didn’t matter—Greenberg and I hashed it out with Jacoby.”

  “I think we jumped the gun.”

  “How so?”

  “Well, you and I discussed these changes, but you knew I wasn’t in agreement.”

  “Bullshit. You said you were on board during our lunch.”

  Chase stepped back and furrowed his brows. Henry’s narrowed eyes met Chase’s like a bull eyeing a matador. He strangled a scream. “I don’t agree with handing everything over to India this fast. There’s too much at stake. I would’ve liked to test outsourcing first. What if it backfires?”

  “See the big picture. Our stock just soared to a record high—better than a takeover play. And, only because of the news of our downsizing. My net worth jumped to eleven digits in one day. Hell, I can finally retire. You made millions. We all did. The board’s giddy, everybody wins. Why are you so down?”

  “Why couldn’t we have discussed it more? Most of those people let go were just hired. They all have families.”

  “C’mon, listen to yourself. You’re not making sense. We provided those people outplacement. Don’t let the Board hear you whining like this. They’ll lock you up in the Ha Ha Hotel.”

  “You didn’t have to fire Brooke Hart. With her talents, and the way the media loves us, I could use her in our PR department.”

  “PR? They’re the next to go. If it weren’t for Joanne’s New York PR firm, our stock would still be stuck in the mud. Besides, Brooke’s not right for Pharmical.”

  “What do you mean?” Chase raised his eyebrow.

  “She’s the only VP we have without at least an MBA and she went to a state school.”

  “Why does everybody have to go to Duke around here?”

  “Coming from Mister Blue Devil himself,” Henry coughed into his clenched fist, then continued, “Besides, she’s a lightweight…apparently Greenberg had to call security to remove her from the building.”

  “Greenberg’s afraid of his own shadow. He calls security if someone sneezes near him.”

  “I don’t understand your fascination with that girl, but take my advice—stop thinking with your dick and see the big picture.” Henry’s eyes cast a ghostly glow.

  Chase gulped and flared his nostrils. His head throbbed. Henry’s comment struck like a sucker punch. Chase opened his mouth, then suppressed his return strike, but the question burned inside—did Brooke say something to Greenberg?

  The intercom buzzed, “Excuse me, Mr. Stoddard.”

  “What is it, Lucy?”

  “A Mr. Little from Money Magazine is holding for you on
line one.”

  Chase seized his cue before Henry even spoke, pacing toward the door. He had wanted an excuse to leave—without speaking his mind. He paused at the entrance, and glimpsed back.

  “Oh, tell him I’ll be right with him.” Henry lifted his eyebrows, then lowered them as he pressed line one—without Lucy’s help.

  “Mr. Allman?”

  “Oh, hi again Lucy. Please call me Chase.”

  “I have your coffee, Chase. Would you still like it?”

  “Thanks, coffee sounds great right about now.”

  He strode back to Lucy’s cubicle; Henry’s voice resembled a snake-oil salesman in the background, and reached for the oversized Styrofoam cup. “Thanks again. You’re the best.”

  The coffee was lukewarm, but when Chase reached the elevator, he peeled off the lid and gulped. Before hitting the ground floor, he had drained the entire coffee. Chase tossed the empty cup into the trash receptacle, then nodded as he passed the security stand.

  Once outside, the wind whipped his hair back, and flung his tie up and over his shoulder. Reaching for his tie, his briefcase spun in his hand. He paused and clasped his tie down, then buttoned his suit coat, before trudging ahead. Though it smelled like rain, the air was dry. The walk back seemed to take forever as thoughts swirled faster than the gusting wind.

  Inside his building, Chase felt a wave of angst. He considered jumping into his BMW and heading to Starbucks, but he needed to speak with David Greenberg. He combed his fingers through his gnarly hair, but only managed to make himself appear more disheveled. People he passed didn’t recognize him.

  He pressed the elevator button for twenty—Greenberg’s floor, one below his own. He scraped one more hand comb—to no avail. Stepping off the elevator, his stomach churned. He wondered what Greenberg knew and wondered how he could get him to talk. Greenberg had worked for Chase for the past seven years, yet Chase had never been able to connect with him. He found Greenberg cagey and never felt he could trust him. Now elevated to SVP in charge of Legal, Human Resources, Customer Service, and Public Relations, David Greenberg held the same position as Chase, right before being named CEO. Paranoia flooded Chase—did Greenberg want my job? Brooke Hart could furnish Greenberg the keys to the corner office with just one comment.

  Chase noticed Greenberg’s door was shut, but his light was on. He inhaled, then plodded over to Janet, Greenberg’s secretary. Glimpsing up from her keyboard, she looked as mousy as her boss. Chase considered office osmosis—like dogs that resembled their owners. “Hello, Mr. Allman, is you here to see Mr. Greenberg?”

  “Hi Janet, please call me Chase.” Chase wondered if Greenberg let Janet call him by his first name.

  “He’s on the phone. Would you like me to tell him you’re here?”

  “No, that’s okay.” Chase maneuvered so Greenberg could spot him through his glass partition. David raised one finger in the air, and then stood with phone pressed against his ear. Chase said, “I think he saw me.”

  “You look like you got some color. Have you been out in the sun?”

  “Yeah, I took a little family time this past weekend.”

  “Well, you picked a good time to get away. It was crazy here yesterday.”

  The door swung open, causing the partially open metal blinds to clank. “Are you here to see me?”

  “Hi David, you gotta minute?”

  “Sure,” he stepped back, bumping his foot against the door, and then stumbled toward his desk. Greenberg plunged into his seat and grabbed some loose papers. With trembling hands, he tried to straighten them against the desktop like an overstuffed deck of cards. After three failed attempts, he flung them on top of another stack. Chase guessed it was Greenberg’s version of an inbox.

  Greenberg noticed Chase’s eyes, and then glanced away, saying, “You wanted to see me?”

  “David, I read your email to Henry and I just wanted to talk to you in person about a couple of things.”

  “Okay.”

  “I just left Henry’s office and he said some things about Brooke Hart that seemed unsettling.”

  “How…how so?”

  “I don’t think she got a fair shake.”

  “Did she call you and complain?”

  Chase rubbed his chin, then said, “I spoke with her, yes.”

  Greenberg crossed his arms. “Mr. Allman, sir, I asked her not to call you. I did. You can even ask Stuart.”

  “Relax, David—and call me Chase.”

  Greenberg gulped then flared his eyes, and paused. He looked like he was about to pee his pants. “What…what did she say? Did she complain about her package?”

  “I haven’t even seen what we offered her.”

  Greenberg reached down and pulled a file drawer out. He lunged forward, then began leafing through with both hands while twitching his wire rim glasses on his nose. Chase checked his watch. Greenberg set a file on his desk, opened it and with shaking fingers, handed Chase the top page.

  Chase scanned the document, frowning three times in ten seconds. He glared at Greenberg, and said, “This is a disgrace. No wonder Brooke’s so upset.”

  “Oh, I could tell she was upset. I had to call security after I, uh, after we terminated her. She didn’t say anything to me about the severance though. I thought I saved the company a bunch of money.”

  “We can’t just throw people under the bus and hope they’ll go away. We need to do the right thing. She was a vice president after all.”

  “Well, I don’t have the budget for anything more.”

  “To hell with the budget. This was done so fast, I don’t think anybody thought this through.” Though Chase was directing the criticism at Henry and his Butcher board, David’s lips turned pale.

  “I was only doing what I was told, Mr. Allman.”

  “Call me Chase. Don’t worry about the stupid budget. Besides, I sign your budget. Just take it out of T and E.”

  “I’m over on T and E, sir.”

  “Stop arguing with me. We can’t treat people like this. If I have to take it out of my own paycheck, I will. Find a way and I’ll sign it!”

  “Tell me what you want to offer her.”

  Chase’s cheeks and ears were flush. He flipped over the paper and scribbled, filling the page within thirty seconds. Tossing the paper at Greenberg, he said, “Have this drafted and email it to me today. I’ll handle it with Brooke.”

  Chapter 14

  “Shane, I feel like such a loser. I can’t believe I got fired and then pulled outta there by frickin’ security.”

  “Brooke, I know you’re upset—and you have every right to be—but let’s focus on the bright side.”

  “Okay, mister bright side, shine some light on this one.”

  “Up until the last few days, you were miserable at Pharmical. With the severance, you can take your time and look for a job you really want to do.”

  “Severance? I wouldn’t call it that—it’s more like rape.”

  “What did they offer you?”

  “Two weeks salary and outplacement.”

  “Tell me you’re joking?”

  “I’m serious as a heart attack. They gave me two frickin’ weeks.”

  “You didn’t sign anything I hope?”

  “They didn’t afford me the chance. Plus, it’s tough to write with your arms restrained behind your back by some flunky mall cop.”

  Shane grinned, imagining tiny Brooke making Pharmical’s security officer sweat.

  “This just doesn’t add up. There has to be more to the story.”

  Brooke had been restless the night before and even a brisk run didn’t clear her mind. Her head pulsed from caffeine withdrawal, but she’d never go to Starbucks again—the thought of drinking the same liquid as Chase Allman repulsed her. Beyond her resentment, she felt a guilt that she couldn’t shake—or explain. She’d hidden her transgression from everyone except Melissa, yet, somehow she felt compelled to open up to Shane. She always felt comfortable with him and respected
his wisdom.

  Brooke drew a deep breath, “If I tell you something, will you promise not to tell a soul?”

  “Of course, you don’t even have to ask.”

  “Will you promise not to think poorly of me?”

  “I’m your life coach. You need to share everything with me.”

  “I do, but this is different.”

  “Whatever’s bothering you, we can talk about it later, if you’d like…”

  Brooke inhaled deeply, then said, “I slept with the CEO, then he shitcanned me.”

  “What?” Shane’s voice hit two octaves.

  “I said I had sex with the CEO, then I got fired.”

  “That’s textbook sexual harassment. They can’t do that. Tell me what happened—everything.”

  “It’s not like it sounds. It just happened.”

  “Were you two at the office?”

  “No, long story, but he was staying at the same hotel where Melissa was married. I think he had some charity event.”

  “Go on.”

  “We met in the elevator—just by chance.”

  “Was he following you?”

  Brooke giggled, “More like the other way around. He was already in the elevator, leaving his event, I was trying to just go to bed and poof, there he was. I actually fell into him on the elevator again. Our rooms were on the same floor.”

  “Did you say again?”

  “Longer story—not important.”

  “Did he coerce you into his room against your will?”

  “No, not like that.”

  “What happened?”

  “My key didn’t work and he offered to call down…the champagne and shots at the wedding…everything’s kind of a blur…”

  “Did he kiss you?”

  “More like the other way around. I mauled him. I’ve never been so attracted before in my life…I just…Lost my mind…I couldn’t control myself.”

  “And, you slept with him?”

  “Yes. I realize I made a huge mistake.”

  “Stop it right there. First of all, what happened, happened. You can’t do anything to change it. Second, you’re not alone—forty percent of employees have dated a coworker.”

  “Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

  “It should. And that statistic is for workplace dating. In your case, yours was offsite and off hours. Plus, alcohol was involved and that lowers your IQ at least thirty points. I’m sure he’s attractive too.”