Annihilate Him, Volume 3

by Christina Ross

  “Where is everybody?” Blackwell asked. “They knew we were coming, so why aren’t they here to welcome us back? What’s this about?”

  “I have an idea,” Alex said.

  “And what’s that?” I asked.

  “I have a feeling that someone—I think all of us can imagine whom—might have made certain that we wouldn’t be greeted. That everyone’s asses would be in chairs. And that they wouldn’t dare move from them.”

  “Rowe,” I said.

  “Who else? He’s the boss, after all.”

  “This is ridiculous,” Blackwell said. “You own this goddamned company. And for him to pull that on you? That’s below the belt.”

  “If he pulled that on me,” Alex said. “We’ll never know for sure. It’s just a guess on my part, albeit an educated one.”

  “We can sure as hell find out,” said Blackwell. “Here, let me call Ann.”

  It was at that moment that a young, bright-looking woman emerged from one of the elevators and stepped into the otherwise quiet space. I had no idea who she was, but she certainly did—the way her heels struck the marble floor made it sound as if she was shooting bullets into it. And there was more—the way she moved with clipped precision, how she held her shoulders back to reveal her perfect posture, and the way her long, straight brown hair bounced behind her as she walked toward us. Everything about her suggested that she knew exactly who she was, and that she was more than comfortable projecting an image of easy confidence.

  But who was she? I’d never seen her before....

  “Mr. Wenn,” she said, coming forward with an extended hand, which Alex took. “It’s so good to have you back. I’m Julie Hardwood, your new assistant.”

  “I’m sorry,” Alex said. “My new what?”

  “Your new assistant.”

  “Ann Collins is my assistant.”

  “Ann was reassigned this morning. She now works exclusively for our new CEO, Mr. Rowe.”

  “I’m aware of who Stephen Rowe is,” Alex said. “And no offense to you, Ms. Hardwood, but you are not my new assistant. I’m afraid there’s been a mix-up.”

  “Actually, there hasn’t been one. I was given a directive, and I am your new assistant. Another directive I was given was to tell you about your offices on the forty-seventh floor. I’m sorry to be the bearer of uncomfortable news, but Mr. Rowe has taken over that floor for himself. I’m here to escort you to your new office, which is on the fortieth floor. I can assure you that it’s beautiful.”

  “But not the entire floor he’s used to,” Blackwell said.

  “I’m afraid there’s nothing I can do about that. Mr. Rowe told me that if there were any questions about this, Mr. Wenn should refer to Wenn’s bylaws. The CEO of Wenn Enterprises, whomever that person should be now or going forward, has the right to claim whatever office space suits him or her. I understand that Mr. Rowe liked your suite of offices, Mr. Wenn, so he claimed them for himself this morning. Later this week, he plans on bringing in a design team to ‘lighten up all those brown tones and make it more his own.’”

  “This is bullshit,” I said.

  But Alex shook his head. “Actually, as CEO, Rowe can indeed claim my office for himself.”

  I looked at the woman standing so calmly in front of us. “And where is my office located now?”

  “Mr. Rowe knew you’d want to be near your husband, so he made certain that your office is next to his.”

  “How kind of him.”

  “And I suppose my office has been jettisoned to the sidewalk,” Blackwell said.

  To a degree, of course, Blackwell was joking, but none of us could have seen what was coming next. When Hardwood didn’t immediately answer, I looked over at her and saw a sudden flick of tension cross her face before she composed herself and turned to Blackwell. “Barbara—may I call you Barbara?”

  “Over my dead body.”

  “That’s fine. Well, then. Ms. Blackwell, I’m afraid that Mr. Rowe has terminated your position. As of today, you no longer work for Wenn. You’ve been fired.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  “I’VE BEEN WHAT?” BLACKWELL said in a rare tone of disbelief. When she heard herself, she checked herself, squared her shoulders, lifted her chin, and tried to stare this Hardwood woman down. “You’d better explain yourself, girl. I’ve given my life to Wenn.”

  But Julie Hardwood merely shrugged. “Which is why Mr. Rowe has arranged for a generous parting of ways.”

  “A generous parting—? Where in the hell has this come from?”

  “I can’t say for sure, but I believe I overheard something about a certain reputation you have here.”

  “And what reputation is that?”

  “That you can be difficult. Abrasive. And that you no longer fit the new Wenn model.”

  “The new Wenn model?”

  “I’m sorry, Ms. Blackwell—I was only told to pass on the news when you arrived. Your office has already been cleaned out. There are papers for you to sign, which will make the split from Wenn official. I was told that you are to sign those papers today, and then vacate the building immediately.”

  “That’s enough,” Alex said, anger clear in his voice. “Under no circumstances has Barbara Blackwell been terminated from Wenn Enterprises, nor will she ever be. Where is Rowe now?”

  “In meetings. I was told that he couldn’t be disturbed.”

  “Ms. Hardwood, as my temporary assistant, I’m going to ask you to go back to your desk and clean it out. It’s you who are no longer working for Wenn.”

  “You see, that’s just the thing,” she said.

  “What’s the thing?”

  “I also work for Mr. Rowe. I’m your assistant, yes, but I was also hired to be a kind of liaison between you two. Mr. Rowe said that, given Wenn’s current state of affairs and its fluctuating stock, he doesn’t see how he’ll have time to meet with you, so I’ve been hired to keep you abreast of whatever directives Mr. Rowe has for you and whatever information he’d like me to share with you. He’s made it very clear to me—and now to you through me—that he doesn’t plan on dealing with you himself. He thinks that given the changes of titles, that things will become tense between you two, and that will prevent the necessary flow of work that must be done. I’m here to stay, Mr. Wenn. Unless, of course, Mr. Rowe decides to fire me himself.”

  “You really are enjoying this, aren’t you, darling?” Blackwell said as she folded her arms in front of her. “It’s like you’re masturbating in front of us—truly getting off on all of it. It’s like you’re a pig rolling about in a big puddle of shit.”

  “I’m just doing my job, Ms. Blackwell. And I see no reason to be rude.”

  “Oh, that wasn’t rude,” Blackwell said. “You haven’t even seen me be rude yet. Those were merely observations. Believe me, when I’m rude, you’ll know it.” She turned to Alex and me. “Shall we?”

  “Yes,” I said. “I think we shall. All of us. The sooner the better.”

  “Shall we what?” Hardwood said.

  “Pay Mr. Rowe a visit,” Alex said. “Without you. Do you understand me, Ms. Hardwood? If you intervene, I will call security and have you removed from the building.”

  “And if you do that, I’ll sue you for harassment.”

  “Who is this bitch?” Blackwell said. “I never hired her.”

  “Something tells me we’re dealing with a very close friend of Stephen Rowe’s,” Alex said. “Because you’re right—she’s not one of us.”

  And with that, the three of us pressed past a bemused Julie Hardwood, who clucked her tongue at us as we moved toward the elevators.

  WHEN THE ELEVATOR DOORS slid shut and we began the ascent to the forty-seventh floor, the three of us just stood looking at each other in disbelief.

  “He’s not taking my threat seriously,” I said to Alex and Blackwell. “Obviously. He doesn’t think I have anything on him, or he wouldn’t have done any of this. He wouldn’t have tried to push us so hard, to go so far
as to fire Barbara—he knows how much she means to you and to me. But how could he know that I don’t have those photographs? Is he just calling my bluff? Because if he is, he’s calling it hard and I have nothing to back it up. Somehow he knows that I was lying to him. But how?”

  “We’ll never know how,” Alex said. “But I agree with you. He doesn’t believe you. And apparently, he has his reasons.”

  “That smarmy little son of a bitch,” Blackwell said. “Canning my ass after all these years. And here I thought he didn’t have any balls. Consider me corrected on that.” She looked at Alex. “You’re not going to be able to fix this,” she said. “We both know that. He’s running all of it now, and what he says, goes. You still have controlling shares of Wenn, but if that man wants me out of here, there’s nothing any of us can do to fight it. Not even you.”

  “Don’t be so sure about that,” Alex said.

  “Why?” she asked. “What do you have in mind?”

  The elevator slowed to a stop. “You’ll see.”

  “I’d prefer to know.”

  “But that’s just in your nature, isn’t it?” He kissed her on the cheek before she could respond. “You know,” he said as the elevator doors whisked open, “it isn’t often that I get angry—and by that, I mean really angry. But when I do, there are few who can handle being on the receiving end of it. So, it’s best that you both prepare yourself for what’s to come.” He motioned ahead of him. “Shall we?”

  With a sense of trepidation, I followed Blackwell out of the elevator and the three of us started to move toward Ann’s desk, which was off to the right and just outside Stephen Rowe’s new office. What immediately struck me as we moved through the room was how bright the space was. When this was Alex’s space, he kept the sunlight out with massive sets of blinds installed over the floor-to-ceiling windows. Through strategically placed lamps, he’d created a sense of warmth and calm when you stepped inside, but that had been banished. Even though the furnishings hadn’t been tossed out just yet, there nevertheless was a clinical chill to the space that felt alien to me.

  When Ann came around the corner, it was clear by the tense expression on her face that she already knew we were on our way.

  Hardwood, I thought. How efficient of her—she called ahead.

  “Thank God you’re here,” she said as she gave each of us a heartfelt hug. “I can’t tell you how good it feels to see you all again. Jennifer, how is your shoulder?”

  “I’m going to be fine,” I said, squeezing her hand. “It takes a lot to get the best of this girl, but thank you for asking, Ann. I’ve missed you terribly.”

  “I don’t mean to be abrupt,” Alex said, “but with the press conference upon us, I need to speak with Rowe now. I hope you understand that it’s best for everyone if we catch up later.”

  “Of course,” Ann said. “In fact, you and I have a lot to talk about.”

  “I’m sure we do. Is he in his office?”

  “He is.”

  “So, he’s not in a meeting?”

  “Is that what you were told? You know—by the Hardwood?”

  “In fact, it was. Does he know that we’re here?”

  “He knows, which is why I’ve been asked to meet you here.” Suddenly, she looked uncomfortable. “He told me to tell you that if he is interrupted, he will call security and have all of you evicted from the building.”

  Alex arched an eyebrow and looked bemused. “Is that so?”

  “I’m so sorry. I can’t believe I’m saying any of this to you.”

  “It’s not your fault,” Blackwell said. “You’re in a terrible situation. Don’t worry about it, my dear.”

  “And for him to fire you,” she said. “Of all people. It’s unthinkable.”

  “To calm my nerves, just tell me that when we get our chance that you’ll help me roast him at the stake.”

  “Hell, I’ll light the match,” Ann said.

  “Actually,” Alex said, “you won’t need to.”

  “Why?” Blackwell asked.

  “Because I’m about to start the fire,” he said.

  And with that, he charged past all of us.

  BLACKWELL AND I LOOKED at each other for an instant before we immediately followed Alex, with Ann hot on our tails.

  “He’s locked the door,” Ann called out in a hush.

  “Then I’ll bust it down,” Alex said. And as he approached it, I saw that he wasn’t joking. With a swiftness that surprised me, he reared back his right leg and slammed his foot so hard against the doorknob that the hinge broke, the door banged open, and splinters flew into the air. Inside, Stephen Rowe stood up with a start and stumbled back from his desk in a clear sense of surprise.

  “What the fuck is this?” he shouted.

  “Just thought I’d stop by to say ‘hello’,” Alex said.

  Rowe looked past him. “Ann, call security. Now.”

  “Go fuck yourself,” she said. “I quit.”

  When Rowe started to reach for the phone in front of him, Alex lurched forward and flung it off his desk, allowing it to crash onto the floor. It was startling to see my husband behave in such a way. He wasn’t just enraged. It was more than that—there was a tenor of something darker—and it was thrilling to see the effect it was having on Rowe, an otherwise polished, good-looking man in his mid-forties who now looked like a caged animal.

  “Ann, if you’ll excuse us, Stephen and I have a few private things to discuss.”

  “I’ll be waiting for you in your office,” she said, reaching into her desk drawer for her purse before sweeping past us. “Fortieth floor. And trust me—I’ve witnessed none of this. I would imagine that, if questioned, none of us have.”

  “Oh,” Blackwell said as she watched Ann leave. “Brava, my dear. Well played, indeed.”

  When Ann was out of earshot, Alex sat in one of the chairs opposite Rowe’s desk and crossed his legs while Rowe kept his back against the wall behind him.

  “Sit down,” Alex said while Blackwell and I moved into the room. “We’ve only got ninety minutes before both of us go in front of the press, and I can tell you right now that it can go one of two ways for you—smoothly, or straight into war. Your choice.”

  “You’ve got nothing on me,” Rowe said, refusing to take his seat. “And neither does your wife.”

  “Are you sure about that?”

  “I’m positive.”

  “That might turn out to be a grave mistake.”

  “Will it? Let’s find out. Why don’t you show me what you’ve got? Why don’t you show the press what you’ve got? Come forward with the photographs I already know don’t exist. Do you want to know how I know you don’t have them?”

  “I’m fascinated by everything you have to say, Stephen, so sure—spill it.”

  “First, because I don’t know anyone by the name of Janice Jones. Never heard of her. Second, how stupid do you think I am? Even if I was cheating on my wife, which is a goddamned lie created by your wife, do you really think I’d be so fucking stupid as to set myself up to be brought down? Do you really think I’d check into a hotel with another woman at my side so there would be photographic evidence of it? So people could witness it? Be questioned about it? The answer is a resounding ‘no.’ So, go ahead,” he said. “Show me the photos. Show the press the photos. Tell your story. But here’s my warning to you, Wenn—if you do go there, I’ll sue your ass for libel and for defamation of character. I’ll go after you so hard, I’ll walk away with Wenn in my back pocket.”

  “Do you really think I’m going to make any of this easy on you, Rowe? Because I can assure you that’s not about to happen. In fact, I plan on making you sweat it out for a few weeks. Really get under your skin. Make you feel as if everyone is watching you and questioning you to the point that you become a paranoid wreck. Believe me when I say that I’m in no hurry. After the two weeks we’ve just been through, I’m perfectly happy to take some time off from Wenn so I can tend to making your life a living
hell.”

  “I don’t buy it,” Rowe said. “Either you show me the photos now, or I’ll know what I already know—that you’ve got nothing. Because frankly, it’s impossible for you to have anything. I’m as clean as it gets.”

  At that, Alex laughed.

  “Don’t you see?” he said. “We’ll come forward with the photos when we’re ready. Because here’s what you need to know, Rowe—you’re not running this game. We are. When the time is right—when I have everything I need to ruin you, which I’ll get in addition to the photos—you will have no other choice but to step down as CEO and chairman of the board. Because the scandal that’s coming your way, Stephen? You’re not going to be able to handle it—and neither is your sham of a marriage.”

  “You’re all talk, Wenn.”

  “The question is this, Rowe—do you really want to take that risk?” When Rowe didn’t answer at once, Alex went for it. “I didn’t think so. So, here’s what we’re going to do right now. First, Barbara Blackwell will remain on as VP of Human Resources. You will have her reinstated immediately, and you will never, ever pull a stunt like that on her again. She is untouchable to you. Second, Julie Hardwood can either be fired, or you can take her on as your own personal assistant. I couldn’t care less. Third, Ann stays with me. Agree to all of that, and I’ll be a good boy at today’s press conference. If you don’t agree to this, I will tell the press that I believe you are unfit to run Wenn. They’re already expecting you to step down, you know? When we arrived here earlier, that was the one question they all wanted me to answer—will I return as CEO? They didn’t want to wait for the conference to find out if that was the case, so what that tells me is that you’ve got PR issues. Because when they do find out that you are not stepping down, the shit is going to hit the fan in ways that even you, in your hubris, don’t see coming. I can either fuel it, or not. So, you decide.”

  “Fine,” Rowe said. “Keep Blackwell. Keep Ann. What the hell do I care? But here’s something for you to consider, Wenn—watch your back, because I don’t like being threatened.”