“Is there a problem, Miss Lauren?”
“You. You are my fucking problem.”
He had the audacity to smile, the audacity to step closer to me. “If you’re still this upset with me, I can think of a way we can fix it once and for all.”
“Don’t worry, I’ve already thought of how I’m going to fix this once and for all the second we get home.”
He raised his eyebrow—looking confused, and before he could say a word, his town car driver stepped into the room.
“Mr. Parker, the general manager of your Lexington Hotel is on the phone for you. He says it’s urgent.”
Preston sighed and looked at me. “Hold that thought.”
“I won’t.”
He left the room, and I promised myself that no matter what, the second we returned to New York, I was finally going to do what I should’ve done months ago.
I’m done with his ass …
Thirteen (B)
Tara
To Whom It May Concern:
I would like to thank you so much for being my asshole boss for the past two years. I truly appreciate all the shit you’ve put me through—especially all the late-night phone calls, never-ending meetings, unrelenting trips at the very last minute, and unnecessary tirades about the grammatical errors in my emails. (By the way, I never—ever, pointed out the fact you constantly used dangling participles or split infinitives in your sentences, but that’s a story for another day.)
As of this moment, I’m officially done working with your condescending ass and I bet you’ll wish you’ll find someone HALF as good as me for your next assistant. (Yes, I’m aware my previous sentence is grammatically incorrect. Deal with it.)
GOODBYE.
Tara Lauren
* * *
This letter doesn’t look like any of the templates.
Rereading the article on “How to Quit Your Job the Right Way,” I deleted my words and took a deep breath. Pouring myself a fourth glass of wine, I tried to think like a true professional and typed a second draft.
* * *
To Whom It May Concern:
I am writing this letter to formally announce my resignation from Parker International (and the arrogant, condescending CEO), effective two weeks from today.
This was a VERY EASY decision to make, as the past two years have been utterly miserable. I wish his next executive assistant all the luck in the world (she'll need it) and if my boss should need me to do anything over the next two weeks, kindly tell him that he can do it [his] goddamn self ...
Sincerely (Not Really),
Tara Lauren
* * *
I stopped and started again, drinking glass after glass of wine, until the letter sounded completely professional. Until there wasn’t a hint of malice or annoyance in my words. And when I was one hundred percent sure that it was perfect, I printed it on bright white vintage paper (He hated regular copy paper when it came to important letters), signed it in black ink, and braced myself to hand it in first thing Monday.
Fourteen
Tara
“Two large Colombian coffees with four flavor drops at exactly one hundred and fifty-five degrees?” The barista at Sweet Seasons called out my order Monday morning. “For a Miss Lauren?”
“That’s me,” I said, taking the drinks and heading to the town car. As I sat back in the seat, I shut my eyes and went over the words I’d committed to memory over the weekend, making sure they sounded as clear and concise as they did on paper.
* * *
Dear Preston Parker,
I would like to formally thank you for hiring me as your most recent executive assistant. I appreciate all I’ve learned while working at your company, and I’ve gained a new respect for the hard work that goes into making a hotel a home away from home for its guests. I also appreciate the fact that you’ve awarded me multiple bonuses for my work on the marketing campaigns, and that you took my advice on the Keiserman deal. I also appreciate the fact that you awarded me the Golden Room Key–the top employee award at Parker International after helping you finally land discussions with Von Strum.
All of those things said, this letter serves as my Two Weeks’ Notice.
As of August 3rd, I will no longer be an employee of Parker International and will no longer serve in any capacity as your executive assistant.
I wish you all the best in your search for another one, and I will do my best to help spearhead the process. I promise to give you my best work until my last day.
Thank you again for all of the opportunities, and I truly hope you’ll be able to offer me a great reference in return for the excellent work I’ve done for you over the years.
Sincerely,
Tara Rose Lauren
* * *
I took a deep breath and sighed. It’s perfect, Tara. Don’t back down. Don’t back down.
When I made it to his office, he was already sitting behind his desk, and the new intern was unwrapping his breakfast.
“Good morning, Miss Lauren,” he said, smiling. “Was there a problem with your phone this weekend?”
Other than the fact that I temporarily blocked your number? “Maybe.” I shrugged. “I think I heard some people were fed up with the service they’ve been getting, so maybe they decided to cut it off.”
“I hadn’t heard that.” He narrowed his eyes at me. “Was there also a problem with your email address this weekend? I sent you a few emails.”
“Thirty is not a few.”
“So, you did receive them?”
“Yes.”
“Do you plan on answering them?”
“Yes, Mr. Parker.” I realized the intern was struggling to uncap a bottle of orange juice, so I took it and opened it for him. “I’ll answer those emails when I get a chance.”
“When you get a chance …” He repeated my words as if he was unsure what they meant. He looked as if he was about to say something rude as hell, but his phone rang and he answered it.
I immediately knew it was George by his tone, so as he redirected his attention to his desktop, I pulled my two weeks’ notice from my purse and placed it under his bagels.
Breathing a sigh of relief, I left his office and locked the door to my own. I dropped my purse to the floor and looked around my office for what I hoped would be one of the last times.
I wonder if I should take all the bookshelves with me when I leave.
I took my time walking around my office, appreciating all the space I never truly had the time to use. From the chaise lounges and the flat screen television that hung in the far corner, to the private en-suite that housed a small bed for napping (Ha!) and a luxury Jacuzzi. I couldn’t help but shake my head at the first days when they were installed. When I thought I would actually get a chance to use them.
By the time I finally forced myself to sit at my desk and do some work, it was ten o’clock and a new email from Preston was at the top of my inbox.
* * *
Subject: Your Two Weeks’ Notice