Conflict of Interest (Employee Relations Book 1)

by Teresa Michaels

  It’s her.

  On a daily basis Gabriella sashays past my office in her form fitted dresses and skirts, driving me insane. I’m convinced she does it to torment me. Hip hugging and feminine, showing off her trim waist and accentuating the swells of her breasts. No wonder everyone lines up for her advice. If I let my dick set the agenda I’d be doing the same. For fuck’s sake, what’s she have against pants and bulky sweaters?

  “We only have a few minutes, what’s going on?” she asks Mike.

  Mike explains the situation and Gabriella advises me to ask Stan for more information on Tony’s performance. I get the impression Stan’s trying to pass a problem my way and I’m not having it. At the same time, I don’t like the idea of Gabriella dictating how I should manage this. Or keeping information from me. She’s clearly holding back.

  I cross my arms over my chest. “What if I decide to take him anyway?” I challenge.

  She blinks, silently eyeing me for several beats. I can’t help but enjoy knowing that I’m getting under her skin. Does she know she’s been under mine since I laid eyes on her?

  “That’s your decision.”

  My head jerks back in disbelief. “That’s it? It’s that simple?”

  Nothing in life is that simple.

  “It’s your organization, not mine,” she lifts one shoulder. “If you want to go forward despite the recommendation I’ve made, go for it. Just make sure you have all your facts straight before you decide.”

  Her indifferent response has me reeling. Bullshit, I want to scream. In my experience Human Resources is the gatekeeper, equivalent to a workplace cock-blocker, not an impartial council. I watch her, waiting for the punch line or ultimatum. It doesn’t come.

  She returns my stare, raising an eyebrow. Daring me, I think. “And if it backfires I’ll be there—”

  “To say ‘I told you so,’” I finish her statement.

  The corner of her mouth twitches but she remains composed. “To help you through it,” Gabriella clarifies. She’s got a great poker face but I can see through her professional façade. She can’t wait for me to fail and beg for her help.

  That’ll be the day.

  “We better go and start the video conference. Don’t want to piss off Jack even if he’s across the ocean.” Mike slaps me on the shoulder as he passes by.

  For a minute I forgot that we were in his office. I look at the ground and follow Mike to the door. Christ, she pisses me off.

  “Hold on.” Gabby puts her hands on either side of doorframe, blocking me in once Mike’s in the hallway. “We’ll be there in a minute,” she calls to Mike over her shoulder.

  I clutch my laptop and shove my free hand into my pocket to occupy it. “What’s this about, Gabriella?”

  Last time we spoke I’d blown her off to avoid being with her behind closed doors. Christ, I couldn’t stop myself from grabbing her leg in a crowded room. If her leg brushing against me has that kind of effect on me, I can only imagine what being inside her would do.

  And now she’s trapped me in a room.

  I’m at war with myself. I want to slam the door and then slam her against it while her legs wrap around me. The sane part of my brain keeps me from doing just that on a daily basis. It’s my other brain that’s threatening to take over, and right now I’m not sure how much I care.

  Admitting that even to myself has me panicking. Willpower isn’t something I’ve had to call on before. My focus has been on my career. Everything you’ve ever wanted is finally within reach. Even as I tell myself this, I find it hard to ignore how easily that statement could apply to the woman before me if only I was allowed to go there.

  I won’t. That’s for sure. But I don’t like how she’s getting to me. Distracting me. The little time I’ve spent around her leaves me feeling less like myself. For my own good I don’t want to be near her, yet I’m drawn to her. I don’t need any diversions, yet I can’t get her out of my mind. I want her as my next meal, yet I couldn’t touch her even if I wanted to.

  In a nutshell, I’m royally screwed.

  She steps forward and places her hands on her hips. Like a caged animal I want to flee. I don’t though because I’m also a glutton for pain.

  “Are you prepared for the meeting?”

  I blow out a deep breath and consider my options. I could lie, but what’s the point. As soon as the meeting starts she’ll know I’m full of shit.

  “I’ll take that as a no,” she answers, taking another step forward. “Did you at least read the email?”

  The limited space between her chest and mine only makes me want to get closer. “I don’t recall seeing it.” Stick to the truth and don’t fucking move.

  “So you have no idea what the meeting’s about, do you?”

  “Workforce planning.”

  “Mike tell you that?” she smirks and raises an eyebrow at me.

  I smirk back and she shakes her head. Exhaling loudly, she crosses her arms over her chest, producing a hint of cleavage that makes my mouth water. The effort it takes not to gawk and grab at her is herculean. Of all the things I could be proud of, not touching her right now is high on my list.

  Bloody hell.

  “We lost a good candidate yesterday because you didn’t approve the email request for the offer. And there’s an employee issue brewing in your org that you should be aware of.”

  “I get hundreds of emails a day.” This is the truth. Still, I’m making excuses and we both know it.

  Defeated, she shrugs and steps back, her warm eyes losing some of their glow. “Okay then. See you down there.” She spins on her heals and leaves.

  I follow behind, leaving enough distance to watch the sway of her hips and pray I don’t get a hard on.

  Yup. Completely screwed.

  “Alright, let’s get started.” Gabriella calls the room to attention as she connects her laptop to the projector. She brings up the spreadsheet she apparently sent us all, and we spend over an hour reviewing the gaps in the organization.

  Several people throw out requests for additional headcount. Suggestions are made on how to utilize the team in London if we divest part of that business. Some get approved, others are denied. To my surprise Gabriella publicly gives me a one month reprieve on completing the assignment. I can’t seem to figure out if I’m grateful or pissed.

  Toward the tail end of the conversation, Gabriella turns her attention to Stan.

  “You’ve been fairly quiet, Stan. Any ideas you’ve been tossing around that you’d like to share?”

  “Uh, yeah actually. I need three additional headcount,” he asserts.

  “What for?” Jack asks curiously.

  “To backfill David, Rachael and Tony,” he states as if his proposal to transition them to me is a done deal. “It makes more sense for them to join Lucas’s team. Oh, and based on Tony’s performance I’m also recommending an out of cycle promotion before he goes.”

  “Whoa.” Gabriella holds up her hand, halting the conversation. “I agree Davis and Rachael would make good additions to Lucas’s team, but he hasn’t had a chance to fully assess his team yet. It’s too soon to ask Lucas to make that decision. Also, we can talk about Tony offline.”

  “We’re all under the code of silence. Let’s talk now,” Stan challenges, leaning forward.

  “I agree, I’d like to hear this,” I add.

  Gabriella makes a grand sweeping gesture with her hand. “Okay, Stan.”

  “Tony has the highest customer satisfaction scores of anyone on my team.”

  “On average,” Gabriella contends.

  “What’s your concern?” I ask Gabby, giving her my full attention.

  “For the last three years, Tony’s performance has dropped for part of the third quarter, all of the fourth, and depending on the season, the first quarter as well.”

  “What season are we talking about?” I ask, completely baffled.

  “Football,” everyone replies.

  “One of our employees pl
ays football?”

  Everyone laughs except Stan.

  “Not quite. He’s a professional fan,” Mike explains. “Tony has season tickets to the New England Patriots and goes to all home games, travels to some away games too. It’s well known he spends every Sunday hosting parties or tailgating, and often times he’s either too hung over to show up on time, if at all, the following day.”

  Damn.

  “He’s missed several client engagements because of it,” Mike adds. “He’ll work a ton of hours to make up for, give his extra ticket to people he’s pissed off to smooth things over.”

  “It’s not that big of a deal,” Stan counters.

  “Because he’s probably taken you to the Super Bowl.” Gabriella replies.

  Stan doesn’t admit to that. He doesn’t deny it either.

  “Gabby’s right, Stan. I can’t support a promotion for him and you’re not transferring him to Lucas because you don’t want to manage the problem. If he could get his act together and perform consistently year round, it wouldn’t be an issue. You need to deal with this.”

  “I have a great team,” Stan retorts.

  “You also have the highest attrition rates,” Mike adds under his breath.

  “Alright,” Jack impatiently scolds through the oversized monitor. “Stan, you can have two headcount to replace Davis and Rachael if Lucas decides to take them. Moving on.”

  The rest of the meeting passes. Everyone packs up and moves on to their next appointment, including Gabriella. Walking back to my office it occurs to me that she just got me the information she wanted me to have without breaching Stan’s confidence. She also bought me time to make my own decision and got my peers to weigh in. What could have taken days to coordinate was resolved in less than five minutes. As much as I don’t want to admit it, I appreciate that.

  I pause just outside her door and consider thanking her but I don’t get the opportunity to make up my mind.

  “Lucas, you got a minute?” Fast approaching footsteps echo from behind. Turning around I watch Brandon, a fairly new manager on my team, jog down the hall toward me.

  “Sure.” He follows me to my office and closes my door.

  He holds up one finger, trying to catch his breath. “I need your help. I have a poor performer on my team who’s incapable of doing her job. I met with Gabby a few days ago and she refused to terminate her. She wouldn’t even let me put the woman on a performance improvement plan.”

  “Did she say why?”

  “Not really,” he shrugs and shifts on his feet. “Probably just getting in the way as usual, am I right?” He smacks my arm with the back of his hand and laughs like we’ve just shared an inside joke.

  We haven’t.

  My eyebrows knit together. “Not sure I know what you mean.”

  His eyes look anywhere but at me. “Umm,” is all he says, annoying me further.

  I sigh and run my fingers through my hair. “Stay here,” I command, and walk briskly to Gabriella’s office. I knock twice and enter. “Could you join me in my office straight away? Shouldn’t take long.”

  I return to my office without waiting for her response, thinking she’ll be hot on my tail. Minutes later she still hasn’t shown and I’m getting frustrated. Here I was asking her for something. Wasn’t her interest at least piqued?

  Finally, Gabriella joins us. “About time,” I mutter. Brandon snickers behind me and I instantly regret that I said the words out loud.

  Gabriella pauses by my side and leans closer. “I was in the middle of a conference call,” she quietly hisses.

  “I hadn’t noticed,” I admit.

  With her hand on her hip she straightens. “Clearly.”

  She raises her brows and watches me expectantly, waiting for me to get to the point for summoning her here.

  Why do I get such a rise out of pissing her off?

  Unable to think properly with her proximity, I clear my throat and walk to my desk, leaving her on the other side of the room. “Brandon was telling me that you won’t let him terminate a low performer on his team.”

  “That’s right,” she replies, changing her stance and cupping her hands behind her back.

  “Well…why not?” I ask.

  Here eyes close and she takes a deep breath. “Brandon came to me the other day stating that an employee on his team wasn’t performing and he was ready to move forward with termination.” She gives Brandon a sideways glance that’s controlled but also annoyed. “I asked him for specifics, as the employee has only been here for ten months, and I hadn’t heard of problems prior to our conversation.” She walks farther into my office, stopping a few feet from my desk, putting her an equal distance between Brandon and me.

  “Brandon said the issues had been going on for ‘some time’ and when I asked him for a timeframe he couldn’t give me one. He said the woman was consistently late and her weekly updates didn’t include the level of detail he was looking for. I asked what feedback he’d given the employee and his response was ‘none.’”

  I turn to Brandon. “Why haven’t you given her feedback?”

  He shrugs and looks to the ground. He finally lifts his head when I don’t speak and answers, “I didn’t want to hurt her feelings.”

  Is he fucking serious?

  “How do you expect her to know she’s not meeting your expectations unless you give her feedback?” I demand.

  Brandon presses his lips into a thin line. He glances at Gabriella and then back at me. I get the impression she’s already asked him that. “It’s in the job description.”

  “I explained to Brandon a few days ago that it would be hard for an employee to understand there were performance issues if they’d never been told. Not only would terminating her be unfair, it would put the company at risk.”

  “At risk for what?” Brandon scoffs.

  Gabriella’s attention shifts to Brandon. “She’s a Hispanic female over the age of 40, working for a Caucasian male on a team with no other diversity. In addition, she has no idea she isn’t meeting your expectations and you have absolutely no documentation or proof to support your claims. Regardless of your intent, it raises flags.”

  “So what you’re saying is that we’ll never be able to fire her,” Brandon sneers.

  “No.” Gabriella addresses Brandon with composure and authority. “What I’m saying is that your actions reflect on the company. We should always make sure that we’re managing these situations carefully to support our employees and not expose the company to unnecessary risk. You need to meet with her and explain your expectations and confirm that she understands. Beyond that you need to provide her with support.”

  “What about a performance improvement plan?” Brandon attempts to negotiate. “Can I put her on one of those and open a backfill?”

  Gabriella crosses her arms over her chest. “PIP’s aren’t designed to push people out, they’re designed to help employees improve. To give them a chance. You should start by managing her more closely.” Gabriella takes two steps toward Brandon. “We’ve had this conversation at least three times now, Brandon. By the way, I checked the security log and she badges into the building every morning by 8AM. You usually come in closer to nine. Your claim that she’s routinely late isn’t accurate.”

  Brandon groans ignoring her data. “I’m going to lose a good candidate.”

  “Is that what this is about?” I interject. “You found a potential candidate so you thought you’d make room?”

  Brandon looks away. “Sandra would have supported this.”

  Sandra, my predecessor. The jury’s still out on why she left and I’ve done my best to ignore the rumors. She may have let this type of behavior slide, but I won’t stand for it.

  “Supported poor judgement? Perhaps that’s the reason she’s no longer here.”

  Gabriella’s mouth drops open, confirming my assumption.

  “What Lucas meant to say is that he’s your manager now and he doesn’t support this type of behavior.�
��

  Ignoring her attempt to make my comments politically correct, I refocus on Brandon.

  “Schedule time with me for later this week. I want you to come prepared with a plan of how you’re going to help this employee improve, if that’s even a true concern.”

  Brandon frowns looking slightly confused. “Yeah, sure.”

  “I’ll stay close to it,” I assure Gabriella once Brandon leaves my office.

  “You shouldn’t have said that about Sandra.”

  “Was I wrong?”

  “That’s not the point,” she scoffs. “It was unprofessional and that entire conversation could have been avoided.”

  I don’t answer.

  “I tried to get time with you to discuss this last week. I texted you that I needed to speak with you and then I emailed you the details of my conversation with Brandon. This was the employee situation I mentioned before Jack’s staff meeting.”

  “Texting is impersonal.”

  “Should I call next time?” she counters.

  I disregard the question and continue. “And I didn’t get the email.”

  “You say that a lot,” she replies.

  Groaning, I lower myself into my chair, close my eyes and pinch the bridge of my nose. Women avoid rejection. Ignore her and she’ll go away. I sag in relief at the sound of my door closing. It’s short lived. The sound of footsteps closing in on me has my eyes snapping open and my heart racing.

  Gabriella rounds my desk with determination. “May I ask what you’re doing?”

  She pushes up her sleeves and smirks. “Blowing your mind. Are you ready?”

  My dick perks up. I swallow hard and sit straight up in my chair.

  Yes. Please.

  “This.” She gestures with both hands as if she’s a model from a game show, “Is a computer. This is a mouse. If you want to open your email, put your hand on the mouse, move it until the cursor is where you want it, and double-click on the message. Mission accomplished.”

  Her use of words has dirty thoughts invading my concentration.

  “Has that been your experience? I find it can be more complicated than that, or at least more time consuming.”