Wrong Number

by R. L. Kenderson

  But I knew he couldn’t keep everything bottled up inside forever, so I camped out in one of the private rooms while I waited for everyone else to leave. It took longer than expected because Keith liked to stick around as long as the boss did. I was getting pretty bored of playing games on my phone when I finally heard Keith leave.

  I watched Cal through the glass windows of his office as I approached. He rubbed his forehead, looking tense, and my heart went out to him.

  I knocked on the doorjamb.

  “Keith, I said you could go home,” he said without even looking up.

  “I’m not Keith.”

  His head whipped up, and he smiled. The smile reached his green eyes, but he looked exhausted.

  “Hey, are you okay?” I asked as I stepped inside.

  “Are we alone?” he asked.

  “It’s just you and me.”

  He opened his arms and twisted his seat sideways. “Come here then.”

  I walked around to his side of the desk and got on his lap.

  He tucked my head under his chin and rubbed my back.

  “Are you okay?” I asked again.

  He sighed. “No.”

  I sat up and ran my thumb over his cheek. “What’s wrong, handsome?”

  He smiled wearily at my compliment.

  “Is it your brother?”

  He snorted. “I haven’t even had time to think about Joel since Monday. No, I have to go back to Chicago.”

  I frowned. “Again? Why?”

  “I contacted HR about Patrick, and now, they want me to come there. I have a meeting with them on Friday.”

  Cal had kept me up-to-date on Patrick. I didn’t know all the details, but I knew he felt he had solid evidence to take to HR.

  “You can’t just talk over the phone? Or have a video conference?”

  He shrugged. “I guess not. They said it was something they needed to discuss in person.”

  “That doesn’t sound good. Do you think you’re in trouble?”

  Cal looked like he was searching for the right words. “I don’t think trouble per se, but they might be worried that I’m making waves where they don’t want them.”

  “Ugh … I hate nepotism.”

  Cal smiled. “What you and I have could be called nepotism.”

  I kissed him. “But there’s a big difference. I’m a good worker, I’m not an asshole, and I was here before you; you didn’t hire me.”

  He kissed me long and deep, his hands running all over my body. When he pulled away, we were both breathing hard. “God, I love it when you say such smart things.” He kissed my neck. “Thanks for not being an asshole, by the way. I wouldn’t want to worry about firing your sweet ass too.”

  I laughed and melted into his touch. “You keep that up, and we’re going to have another naughty session in your office.”

  Cal groaned and leaned back on his chair. “As much as I’d love to be inside you right now, I’d probably better finish up my work. I wasn’t prepared to go to Chicago at the last minute. I’m trying to get ahead of things.”

  “When are you leaving?”

  “Tomorrow afternoon.”

  “Does that mean you’re coming over tonight?”

  “I need to pack. Would you mind going to my house instead?”

  I shook my head. “I’ll go home and grab a few things. What time should I come over?”

  “You can go over right away. I’m not sure how long I’ll be.” He opened up his desk drawer, pulled out his keys, and took one off the ring. “Here. Use this to get in.”

  “Ooh … a key to your house. This is getting serious,” I joked.

  Cal didn’t say anything. He just cupped my face, pulled me close, and kissed me again. “Okay, you need to get out of here, so I can finish. That way, I’ll be that much closer to getting home to you.”

  I smiled. I liked how he called being with me home. “Don’t you need your key?”

  “I use my garage door opener.”

  I got up from his lap, took the key, and kissed him again. “I’ll see you there.”

  I went to my desk and grabbed my purse before looking at Cal one more time. I felt bad for him. He was worried about work and about his brother. Struck with inspiration as I walked to the elevators, I pulled up my phone and put in an order for someone to deliver him some food.

  My man needed to eat if he was going to take care of business.

  When I reached the hallway, I saw the doors to the elevator close, which was weird. I couldn’t tell if anyone had been in there though. Maybe someone had accidentally pushed our floor, and it had stopped here.

  I pushed the down button and finished Cal’s food order.

  By the time I got to Cal’s house, he texted me.

  Cal: I got the food. Thank you.

  Me: You’re welcome. But I did it for purely selfish reasons. I need you in full form if you’re going to give me a proper goodbye fucking.

  Cal: Ha-ha. I knew it. You just want me for my dick.

  Me: Guilty.

  Me: Seriously though, if you’re going to go to Chicago and meet with them, you need to be at your best. Please promise me you’ll be home early, so you can get a good night’s sleep.

  Cal: So, no goodbye fucking?

  Me: I guess that depends on what time you get home.

  Cal: I’ll be there in an hour. Hour and a half, tops.

  Cal got to his house within two hours, which was better than I’d expected. We slipped into bed, had phenomenal goodbye sex, and still went to sleep at a decent time.

  When I woke up, I was alone because Cal had already gone to work. He wanted to get things done there before he went to the airport after lunch. I was disappointed that I hadn’t gotten to say goodbye again that morning. Not a sexual goodbye. I’d simply wanted him to hold me for a bit since I wouldn’t see him for a few days.

  I knew he’d be back, but I couldn’t shake my sadness. I dismissed my melancholy as my period coming any day now. At least I would have it while he was out of town.

  And when Cal came back, I was going to give him a proper welcome home.

  Thirty-Six

  Cal

  My plane landed in Chicago around five on Thursday evening, and I didn’t have to be at the Chicago office until eight the next morning.

  I wish I had flown in later to spend some more time with Indy before leaving, but I wasn’t the one who had scheduled my flight. The Chicago office had.

  And I couldn’t shake the ominous feeling hanging over me.

  I had downplayed the situation with Indy, but I knew it wasn’t a good that I had been all but ordered to come there. The Minneapolis office wasn’t big, so all our HR people were in Chicago. Chicago was at least double the size of Minneapolis. Their reasoning was that HR could be done using technology. But then why couldn’t I discuss my findings over the phone?

  When I’d first called HR, the woman I had spoken with was receptive and open to listening to the transgressions I listed. But the minute I gave her a name, I heard a change in her voice, and she told me she would have to get back to me. Thirty minutes later, she had emailed me with my flight information. It was a bad sign that she hadn’t even bothered to call me back.

  That night, I tried to go to bed early, but I tossed and turned before falling into a fitful sleep.

  The next morning, I made it to the Chicago office early since I couldn’t sleep anyway, but I was left sitting around all day. The secretary kept coming up with lame excuses every time I asked when I would go into my meeting. Finally, at three thirty in the afternoon—seven and a half hours later—I was told to come back on Monday at eight.

  I went in search of food because I hadn’t gotten to eat all day and weighed my options. I knew that management was sending a message to me. They probably had never intended to meet with me until Monday. They wanted to show me who had the power.

  I didn’t want Indy to worry, so I told her there had been an illness and that I would miss her.

 
Monday, I went in early again—this time, armed with snacks in case I was left waiting again all day. I was led back into a conference room about twenty minutes after my appointment.

  When I entered the room, I was greeted by the CEO of the company, George Malone; the president, Shane Randu; a woman and an older gentleman I didn’t recognize; and Patrick, looking like a smug son of a bitch.

  I was being ambushed.

  The woman stood and held out her hand. “Nicholas Callan? I’m Alice.”

  Alice was the HR woman I had spoken to.

  “Alice Geer,” I said in greeting.

  “You know Mr. Malone and Mr. Randu?” she asked.

  I nodded. “Hello again.”

  “This is Howard Brown, and you know Patrick Mullen.” She pointed to an open chair. “Please, have a seat, Mr. Callan.”

  Despite being surrounded by everyone in power, I took my seat, opened my briefcase, and removed the information I had on Patrick.

  “You’re not going to need any of that, young man,” Howard said when he saw my pile of papers.

  “Sir, I respectfully disagree. If you give me a chance to show you the information I’ve acquired, you will see that—”

  Howard held up his hand and interrupted me, “Ms. Geer has already filled me in.” He pointed to the CEO and president. “Us in.”

  “I see,” I said.

  They wanted me to know that they had heard enough and didn’t want to hear any more. It didn’t matter what proof I had.

  “Patrick has agreed to transfer back to Chicago. He will no longer have anyone working under him, so as far as the board, Mr. Malone, and Mr. Randu are concerned, this matter is taken care of. And we hope you are on the same page as us.” Howard Brown gave me a look that dared me to challenge him.

  Message received.

  “Yes, I am on the same page.”

  I was sure that whatever new position they put Patrick in, it was probably going to be an improvement from his former job. That was just how these things worked.

  I looked around the room and met everyone’s eyes. “Why then did you feel the need to fly me here? You certainly could have told me all this during a conference call.”

  Howard Brown nodded at Patrick, who pulled out a large manila envelope and slid it over to me.

  “Go ahead,” Howard said. “Open it.”

  Dread filled my gut as I broke the seal. When I pulled out the pictures of Indy sitting on my lap at work, the feeling moved into my throat.

  This had to be from Wednesday night when Indy and I had thought we were alone. That sneaky asshole had waited around just to catch us. I had to wonder how long he’d been spying on the two of us.

  “As you can see, you’re not the only one who has brought concerns to us. There are more pictures of the two of you at each other’s homes, but we figured these images were sufficient.”

  I slammed the pictures down. “I checked into the employee manual. The only relationships that are frowned upon are anyone involved with their direct supervisor.” I looked at Patrick. “Lucinda Scott’s direct supervisor is Patrick.” Or had been Patrick.

  Howard gave an expectant look to the CEO and president.

  Mr. Malone cleared his throat. “As of this morning, we are promoting Lucinda Scott to fill Mr. Mullen’s position as the supervisor of her team. You will now be her direct supervisor.” Mr. Malone looked uncomfortable, and I felt he was on my side.

  Mr. Randu wouldn’t meet my eyes, and I sensed he felt the same. Unfortunately, both of them answered to the board.

  And I had to hand it to Howard Brown. He could have demoted me to Patrick’s position, but instead, he was promoting Indy. It would be hard to make a lawsuit out of getting a better position with better pay.

  Howard Brown knew he had me where he wanted me. And so did Patrick. The smugness on both bastards’ faces made me want to punch them, but I wasn’t going to give them any more power over me.

  I picked up my now-worthless reports and shoved them in my briefcase. The sense of defeat was overwhelming, especially after all that time I’d wasted.

  “Mr. Callan?”

  I looked up at Howard Brown.

  “You have until the end of the week to decide what you’d like to do. Either break things off with Ms. Scott or fire her. The choice is yours.”

  I stood and looked Howard in the eyes. “I pick neither. Consider this my resignation. Effective immediately.”

  I heard Alice gasp as I picked up my briefcase and walked out of the room.

  They had played their last hand and lost. I wasn’t going to fire Indy, and I certainly wasn’t going to give her up. And I certainly didn’t want to work for a company that would make me choose.

  Thirty-Seven

  Indy

  Monday morning started the same as usual, except that Cal wasn’t there. He was supposed to have come back on Saturday, but someone in Chicago had gotten sick, so they’d had to reschedule his meeting.

  I was feeling nervous. His meeting should have started at eight. It was almost nine now, and I hadn’t heard anything yet. I had waited all day on Friday for Cal to go into his meeting, only to have it rescheduled. I didn’t know if I could take a whole other day like that today. I was sure to have a stroke from my blood pressure being high.

  I tapped away on my computer but found it hard to concentrate. I picked up my phone for the fiftieth time. No message since I had wished Cal good luck at seven forty-five that morning.

  I was still staring off into space when Keith came up to me.

  “Indy, I need you to come to Cal’s office,” he said in almost a whisper.

  I quickly turned to glance at Leslie.

  “No. You can’t tell anyone.”

  “What’s this about?” I asked in an equally low voice.

  My first thought was that Cal had gotten into an accident or was hurt. My stomach was in knots.

  “I don’t know. They didn’t tell me anything.” He tilted his head toward the office. “Come on. Let’s go.”

  Keith turned his back to me, so I snuck a quick look at Leslie. Of course, she had been paying attention the whole time. I shrugged at her and hurried after Keith.

  Once in Cal’s office, he went behind Cal’s desk and pushed a few buttons on the computer. He stood straight. “Okay, they’re ready for you.”

  “Who is?”

  Keith came around to my side and leaned in close. “The CEO and president.”

  My eyes widened, and I swallowed. This couldn’t be good.

  “Good luck,” Keith whispered as he exited the room.

  I hesitantly walked around to the front of the computer.

  “Hello, Ms. Scott,” Mr. Randu said. “Please have a seat.”

  I pulled out Cal’s chair but didn’t say a word.

  “There are going to be a lot of rumors flying around the office in a few minutes,” Mr. Malone said.

  That didn’t explain why they had pulled me—a nobody—into the office for a private conversation.

  “Is Cal okay?” I asked.

  The two men exchanged looks, and my breath caught.

  Mr. Randu must have sensed my worry. “Mr. Callan is fine—physically. He just left our office about ten minutes ago.”

  I put my hand to my chest and took a deep breath. “Thank you.”

  “Unfortunately, Mr. Callan no longer works for us,” the president said.

  My temporary relief was gone. “What?”

  I can’t believe they fired him. He had done nothing wrong.

  “Yes,” Mr. Malone said. “Mr. Callan submitted his resignation as of this morning. Effective immediately.”

  Cal quit?

  My brain was so stunned that I almost missed their next words.

  “Also, as of today, Patrick Mullen is being transferred back to Chicago, and you are going to take over his position.”

  I held up my hand. “I’m sorry. Can you repeat that?”

  “You are now the supervisor of your team. Mr. Mullen
is not coming back to Minneapolis,” Mr. Randu said. “We’re going to be sending out an email soon to let everyone know.”

  I shook my head. “Shouldn’t I have to apply for this spot? There might be others who are more qualified.”

  The two traded looks again.

  “Due to the short notice, we asked Patrick who the best candidate was. That’s you,” the manager said.

  That was the biggest load of bullshit I’d ever heard in my life. Patrick would never pick me to take over his position. I didn’t even know what to say to that, but they didn’t care. They just kept talking.

  “We will fill everyone in when we send the email, but if anyone asks, please tell them we’re looking for a replacement for Mr. Callan as fast as we can. Also, you’re going to have to start looking for someone to take your position now that your team is down a person.”

  I shook my head. They wanted me to be the boss and hire someone. I didn’t have the first clue on what to do to hire a replacement.

  “Someone from HR will be in touch with you. They’ll post your old job soon and give you a list of candidates as early as the end of the week,” the CEO said.

  “Wait. This is not a step I’m comfortable with.”

  I might as well have been talking to myself because they ignored me.

  “Thanks, Ms. Scott. We’ll be in touch soon,” Mr. Randu said and hung up the video call.

  I sat at Cal’s desk for a few seconds, processing everything, but I needed way more than a few minutes to do that. I slowly got up from the chair and left the office in an almost-zombie-like mode.

  I didn’t want to be the supervisor. I didn’t want to be in charge.

  And I really, really didn’t want Cal to quit.

  Everyone was looking up from their computers as I walked past, and I figured they had to be looking at the email the two men had been talking about. When I reached my desk, I dropped into it.

  “Cal quit? Patrick’s gone? You’re our new supervisor?” Leslie said in shock. “What do you think that’s all about?”

  I shook my head. “I don’t know. They didn’t tell me. They just said Cal had quit and Patrick was being transferred to Chicago.”