Losing His Shirt

by Linda Fausnet

  My heart sank and my stomach clenched. “Cody.”

  Johnny nodded his head, happy he had someone to blame. He walked over to the warehouse door and called out, “Hey! Could you come here for a sec?”

  Oh, please don’t reprimand him in front of all these people. He’s just a kid.

  Cody walked into the room, looking eager. He must have thought Johnny was calling him in to help with something. I felt like crying when I saw that sweet, innocent face.

  “Did you send out the wrong monogrammed tire pumps to two customers?” Johnny asked in a friendly yet condescending voice that fooled no one.

  The color drained from Cody’s face. “I—I don’t know. Did I?” He looked over at me. He was a conscientious worker and it was a simple but rare mistake for him to make. If it happened again, I planned to give him a gentle reminder, but I had seen no reason to mention it this one time.

  “Yeah, Cory, you did,” Johnny answered for me. “Hey man, you gotta be real careful and check and double-check each order before you send it out. The customer was really pissed.”

  “Oh, I’m really sorry,” Cody said, his face turning a deep red.

  “Well, just make sure it doesn’t happen again,” the Creep continued, twisting the knife in Cody’s tender heart. “The guy was screamin’ at Rosemary on the phone.”

  “He was? Aw, man, I’m really sorry, Rosemary,” Cody said.

  I gave him a reassuring smile. “It’s no big deal, really. Everybody makes mistakes. We’ll get him the right order in plenty of time for Christmas and it’ll be no problem at all.”

  Cody’s expression relaxed a little. If we could all just get through the next few minutes, Johnny would get bored with the place and then go home and pretend to work.

  “Well,” Johnny said, laughing, “It is a big deal, Cory. I mean, that guy’s pretty mad and he might not come back to us again. If he thinks we run a sloppy business, next time he’ll go to one of our competitors.”

  “Sorry, sir,” Cody said, blushing again.

  “I mean, you let the whole team down here,” Johnny said, gesturing around at me, the warehouse guys, and Tony and Clara, who had walked in to see what all the commotion was about. It was like he wanted Cody to be aware of how many people were witnessing his public humiliation. It was unbearable. Just when I thought it couldn’t get any worse, I saw tears glistening in Cody’s eyes. He glanced directly at me, and then turned away in shame.

  And that’s when I lost my shit.

  I picked up my heavy-duty stapler and forcefully launched it across my desk where it landed with a satisfying bang. Johnny jumped, and I only wished he’d had hot coffee in his hand that he could have spilled all over himself.

  “First of all, his name is Cody not Cory. If you’re going to berate him for a simple, honest mistake, you might as well call him by his real name,” I said, glaring fiercely at Johnny.

  Everything in the office stopped. Nobody moved.

  I walked around my desk and toward Johnny, who actually backed away. What a coward. He was a lot bigger than me, yet he was visibly afraid of the wild look in my eye. As well he should be.

  Narrowing my eyes, I yelled, “Every single person in the office has been busting their ass to get all these orders out to rich pricks like you so we can make you even richer than you already are!”

  I heard one of the warehouse guys mutter, Aww, snap! and in that moment, I knew this wasn’t just for me. I was speaking for all of us. As I looked into Johnny’s smarmy, sleazy face, I realized I could not possibly spend one more day in this horrible, degrading, soul-sucking workplace.

  “You have an amazing staff here, Johnny,” I informed him. “Tony and Clara keep this place running smoothly. They’re wonderful to work with. They’re fair and honest, and they appreciate what we all do for the company. I’m grateful to have them in charge.” Everybody knew who really ran this place, and I hope Johnny’s dick shriveled as I pointed this out in front of everyone. “Cody and all the warehouse guys work so hard on their feet for eight hours a day. You, on the other hand, do nothing and yet somehow you have everything. A nice car, a housekeeper to play Mommy for you, and, until this very moment, you had an executive assistant.”

  Johnny opened his mouth to protest, like he realized he was hearing my resignation speech. Then he dared to glance down at my chest, as if lamenting what he would miss the most.

  “And oh my God, quit staring at my chest! I’m not one of your cheap sluts you can buy with a drink and a nice car. I wouldn’t sleep with you if you were the last guy with a functioning cock on the planet!”

  Clara covered her mouth to stifle a laugh and Cody, who was standing right behind Johnny, silently punched the air in victory. I knew then for certain I was doing the right thing.

  “You strut around here like you’re so much better than everybody else. I don’t think you’ve ever worked a day in your whole life. I want to make something perfectly clear, Mr. High and Mighty,” I said, taking a menacing step toward Johnny. He backed up in fear and banged into Cody, who was sturdier than his skinny frame suggested.

  “You’re not smarter than us,” I said, jabbing a finger right into his chest. “You’re not better than us, you’re just lucky! You’ve been lucky your whole life. Your daddy and mommy gave you everything, including this company. You don’t know the first thing about running a business, and you’re lucky to have a wonderful, caring, conscientious staff who can run it for you.”

  Johnny stared at me in horror. For once, the entitled little prick had nothing to say.

  I leaned right into his face, looked him squarely in the eye, and said, “And you can take that monogrammed tire pump and shove it up your tailpipe!”

  The entire office burst into applause. Maybe they figured Johnny couldn’t fire all of them.

  Quaking with adrenaline and anger, I stalked over to my desk and grabbed my purse and sunglasses.

  I stopped to look at Tony and Clara, and said, “I’m sorry. I just can’t do this anymore. I’m really gonna miss you guys.”

  I managed a smile for Cody, who smiled and blew me a kiss. He blushed, but he did it. I was proud of him.

  Johnny finally found his voice. “Rosemary, I don’t know what’s wrong with you today, but—”

  “You know,” I said, looking him up and down. “Take away all that money, and what’s left of you, Johnny Creel?”

  He just stared at me, so I answered for him.

  “Nothing.”

  With that, I stormed out of the office without looking back.

  Chapter 4

  “Oh dear God, what have I done?” I asked Ryan the moment he opened the door.

  “I don’t know, what have you done?” Ryan asked, his chocolate-brown eyes full of curiosity. I had texted him the second I finished my audition and told him I desperately needed to talk to him. That was all he knew so far.

  “Come on in, sweetie,” he said warmly, and I walked into his apartment and flopped down on his couch like I always did. “Wine?”

  I nodded. He went into the kitchen and returned with a Guinness for himself and a glass of wine for me. I took a healthy sip. “Ah, that helps. It really does.” I took another gulp.

  “You okay?” Ryan asked, looking concerned.

  A rush of gratitude washed over me as I looked at his sweet, handsome face. I was so glad I had him to lean on.

  I put my wineglass on the coffee table and took a deep breath. “Well, it finally happened. I completely snapped at work.”

  “You did?” Ryan exclaimed, eyes wide. I’d spent the last three years bitching to him about what an arrogant prick Johnny Creel was. “Shit, what’d the Creep do this time?”

  “I just couldn’t take it anymore.” A wave of exhaustion and misery swept over me. I’d been so hopped up on adrenaline all day, and now it was beginning to sink in that I was jobless and might soon be homeless. “Poor Cody made a simple mistake, and Johnny started berating him in front of the whole office.”

&n
bsp; “Aww, I know how much you like that kid,” Ryan said.

  “I really do. He’s such a good guy and a really hard worker. I tried to keep my mouth shut, but Cody was so embarrassed. I just had to stop Johnny. And once I started yelling, I couldn’t stop.”

  “You yelled at him? That is so cool.” Ryan lifted his glass and toasted me, making me laugh.

  I related the entire story to Ryan. When I got to the part where I’d told Johnny I wouldn’t have sex with him if he was the last man on the planet with a functioning cock, Ryan threw his head back and laughed uproariously. I laughed too, and suddenly felt a lot better. No matter what happened next, I knew I would never be sorry for telling Johnny off like that.

  “The order Cody messed up was a monogrammed tire pump, so I told Johnny he could shove that pump right up his tailpipe,” I said triumphantly.

  Ryan laughed again and regarded me with admiration. “I am so goddamned proud of you, Rosemary. Seriously.”

  “Thanks,” I said, feeling my weariness returning. “I was so fired up when I left work that I’m pretty sure I aced the audition, so at least something good came of all the drama.”

  “Oh my God, that’s right. That was today.” Ryan had auditioned for the same show, a local production of Thoroughly Modern Millie, just yesterday. We both hoped we’d get parts so we could work together again. We’d done several shows together and always had a blast.

  “Yeah,” I said with a laugh. “You know, it wasn’t until I started singing that I realized how much that song applied to my life right now.”

  For weeks, I’d been practicing the song “Not for the Life of Me” from the show. The character, Millie the flapper, sang about going off to New York and refusing to turn back. She sang about burning bridges and having done her time in “jail” back home. It was a fabulously cathartic song, and I had relished belting out the main part about never, ever returning. Not for the life of me. I could see Ryan running through the lyrics of the song in his head. “Oh my God, you’re right!”

  “So, if I get the part of Millie, I guess I’ll have Johnny to thank.”

  “No,” Ryan said sternly. “You’ll have your talent to thank.”

  I was quiet for a moment as my whirring emotions threatened to spin out of control. I took a sip of wine and I felt tears forming in my eyes.

  “Oh God, Ryan, what am I gonna do? As much I hated that job, I really needed it.”

  “I know, sweetie. It’ll be okay.”

  “I still feel like Johnny won, you know? I let him get the best of me. He still has a job and I don’t.”

  “He didn’t win, Rosemary,” Ryan said, gently rubbing my leg. “It’s gonna be fine. It really will. You’ll land on your feet and find a new job in no time. Look, I know you’re scared right now, but you’re never gonna regret standing up to Johnny. You stood up for the little guy, and you should be proud of yourself.”

  “Thanks, Ryan,” I said, reaching for him. He wrapped me in his big strong arms, and I felt safe and comforted. After I cried on his shoulder for a few minutes, I let go. Ryan wordlessly got up and brought back the bottle of wine from the kitchen. He refilled my glass and sat back down next to me.

  “I guess I’ll be able to find another administrative job somewhere, but I’m worried about how long it might take. I can barely pay my rent as it is. My parents have money problems of their own, and I don’t want to burden them. I could be out on the streets!”

  “That’s never gonna happen, Rosemary,” Ryan assured me. “I’m sure Tony and Clara will recommend you highly, and they sure as hell won’t tell any prospective employers that you quit like that. They’ve got your back, and so do I.”

  Ryan leaned in and gently stroked my hair. “And you know you can always live here with me.”

  I gazed into his eyes and smiled gratefully. “Thanks, Ryan.”

  He reached for me and held me close again. It was easier to believe everything would be okay when I was in his arms.

  Chapter 5

  Jesus Christ, this can’t be happening, was all I could think as I sped toward the office in my blue Spyder. The truth was, I didn’t really understand what the hell was happening. All I knew was I got a frantic call from Clara telling me that a bunch of U.S. marshals had stormed the office and taken all the computers and everything.

  Civil asset forfeiture. That was what Clara said it was. What in the name of holy fuck was civil asset forfeiture?

  I couldn’t find a goddamned parking spot, so I double-parked right outside the office. Let them give me a ticket. Who cares? I could afford it. And if anybody hit the car, I’d sue the fuck out of them.

  I ripped off my sunglasses and dashed through the door. Kathy, the wide-eyed dumb bitch I’d hired to replace Rosemary after she quit a few weeks ago just stared at me, clueless as always. With her long dark hair, blue eyes, and perky boobs, she was as hot as Rosemary but nowhere near as competent.

  “What the fuck is going on here?” I yelled, trying to sound menacing. All I heard was fear in my voice.

  One of the U.S. marshals glanced at me with annoyance as he wrapped the cord around Rosemary’s old computer. He placed it into a nearby box and then walked over to me. “Are you Mr. Jonathan Creel?”

  “Yes!” I said. “Now what the fuck—”

  “Calm down, sir. We are here on the authority of the U.S. government, exercising our right for civil asset forfeiture. We are seizing all contraband that may have been illegally obtained—”

  “What are you talking about? What was illegally obtained? I haven’t done anything wrong.”

  “Perhaps not. But we have reason to believe that Walter Creel has been involved in a federal crime. Therefore, we are seizing any possible fruits of that crime, including any profits and illegally obtained items.”

  Walter Creel? My father? What could he possibly have done? There was no way he was involved in anything illegal. He was a prominent attorney for a huge national bank. He was a cutthroat shark to be sure, but he never did anything illegal.

  Did he?

  “But—but what does that have to do with me?” I sputtered as I looked helplessly around at the rapidly emptying office.

  “Affluent Accents Accessories is entirely owned by Walter Creel; therefore …”

  The guy went prattling on about legalities but I had stopped listening. I couldn’t help remembering Rosemary’s words during her little temper tantrum. All your money and every damned thing you own came from your daddy.

  I whipped out my cell phone to call my dad. I needed some goddamned answers. The phone rang four times; I was starting to panic when he finally picked up.

  “Johnny, I really can’t talk now. I’m in the middle of a crisis here,” Dad said, sounding frazzled. It was slightly terrifying. My dad was fucking Walter Creel. He didn’t get frazzled or fazed by anything. Forget the Wolf of Wall Street. My dad was the Head Wolf of the worldwide business pack. He fucking owned Washington, D.C.

  “Well, so am I! I’ve got U.S. marshals here grabbing, or should I say seizing, everything I own!” Everything you own, I couldn’t stop myself from thinking.

  “They are?” Dad asked. “Oh. I’m sorry, Johnny. I own your place, so I assume that’s why they’re taking your stuff too. I can’t do anything about it.”

  My pride stung, and I still couldn’t get Rosemary’s words out of my head. You strut around like you think you’re better than everyone else. You’ve never earned a single dime on your own.

  “Bullshit!” I accidentally said aloud, still arguing with Rosemary in my head.

  “What?” asked my dad in his more typical dominant, menacing tone.

  “Not you, Dad. I wasn’t talking to you. What am I gonna do? They’re taking everything and—”

  “I’ve got to go, Johnny. I’ve got officials here, breathing down my neck.” He hung up the phone without another word.

  The second I set down my cell phone, one of the marshals grabbed it and put it in a box.

  “You’ve g
ot to be kidding me!” I said, watching the nightmare continue to unfold.

  “As of now, this is government property. All of Walter Creel’s assets, and I assume yours by association,” the marshal prick said with a condescending sneer, “are now frozen indefinitely.”

  “That includes payroll,” Clara said softly to Tony. He nodded. They both glanced with concern at the other employees, who were all standing around gawking.

  “Sir?” called another marshal from the front of the office. “Is this your car parked out here?”

  My heart sank. Oh my God. Please, not my car.

  I dashed over to where the guy was pointing out the office window at my beloved Spyder.

  “Well—well, yeah. Technically it’s my car, but—”

  “I’ll need you to hand over the keys, sir,” he commanded.

  “No fuckin’ way. There is no fuckin’ way I’m giving you my fuckin’ keys!” I yelled.

  “Either that, or we’ll get it towed. Ticketed, then towed. You’re double-parked.”

  The asshole had me by the fucking balls and he knew it.

  I reached into my pocket and shakily took out my keys. I handed them over, still staring out the window at my car. This was a mistake. It had to be. There was no way in hell my dad was a criminal. They had the wrong guy, and there would be hell to pay once this all blew over. My father was the most powerful attorney in Washington, D.C. He’d get this all straightened out, and once he did, he’d sue every single one of these motherfuckers who put their disgusting hands all over my stuff. I made a mental note of the guy who took my car keys. There would be a special spot in jail, tailor-made for that guy.

  I turned around and watched the officials clear out the place until I couldn’t stand it one second longer. I was used to being the one in charge, the one who called the shots around here. It was too goddamned humiliating to have to stand there and take it up the ass. I had to get the fuck out. I headed toward the door when Tony stopped me, standing right in my way.