I tossed a glass across the room and uncorked my third bottle of wine for the night. I couldn’t imagine working for Preston for one more year, let alone another five.
“The employee agrees to discuss any issues with her employer as she is a C-level executive/employee and upon completing the first one hundred twenty days of employment (120 days), is no longer under the sole jurisdiction of the Human Resources Department.”
“Okay, stop. Can you help me fake my death?” I asked. “I think I can live on the run for a while.”
“No thanks.” She shook her head. “It says that for every bonus you’ve accepted, that adds an additional year to your contract. How many have you earned?”
At least twenty. “Oh god!” I brought a pillow up to my face again, screaming even louder. “Why is this happening to me?”
“It also says that if he dies, you’re out of your contract immediately, so you can always go the poison or allergy route. Is he allergic to anything?”
“Every level of human decency.”
She laughed. “Well, maybe try talking to him. You never know. He may just let you out of your contract just because you’ve been a great employee. I mean, outside of trying to get him to fire you, what other choice do you have?”
“Wait, what did you just say about getting fired?”
“The only other way you can get out of this thing is if he fires you for lackluster work and poor performance.”
I smiled. “I can definitely do that.”
Sixteen
Preston
I felt betrayed as hell.
For two goddamn years, I’d worked alongside this woman and I never thought I would see the day when she had the audacity to turn in a two weeks’ notice. She was now my highest paid employee by far and her recent benefits were so over the top and beyond the scope of what any Fortune 500 CEO offered, that George made me submit to a quarterly psychiatric exam to make sure I knew “what the hell she was being offered access to.”
I knew we had our heated arguments from time to time—that a lot of it was the result of pent-up tension she failed to acknowledge, but I refused to believe that I was as terrible a boss as she often made me out to be.
I also refused to believe that she couldn’t see how much I’d given up for her. I hadn’t fucked another woman since we met because no other woman compared. I spent more time with her than with the women I used to date, and I could honestly say that she knew me better than anyone else. I was pretty certain I knew her better than anyone else, too.
“Um, Preston?” George waved his hand in front of my face. “Preston?”
“Yes?”
“Are we going to talk about some business today, or are you going to continue mumbling to yourself?”
“We can talk about business. Go ahead.”
“Great!” He cleared his throat. “So, as you know, Parker International wants to get into budget hotels for some strange reason that the CEO won’t divulge, but he wants to start with the Von Strum chain.”
“You don’t have to talk about me in the third person,” I said. “I’m right here.”
“Miss Lauren has always insisted that I talk to you in the third person when we’re about to pursue something new. It’s actually helped previously.”
“I don’t want to hear shit about Miss Lauren today.” I seethed. “Are we clear?”
He blinked, setting his paper down. “Please tell me you didn’t fire her. Please.”
I wouldn’t dare. “No, I’m just upset about something she’s done recently.”
“Oh!” He shrugged. “Well, I heard about how she berated our marketing team in Seattle, but that’s nothing to hold against her. She saved you a lot of money and tons of bad press. Now anyway, back to the Von Strum chain. It’s a three-star hotel chain that caters to families, road trip travelers, budget-conscious consumers, and—”
“Do you think I have a soul, George?” I interrupted him.
“Okay, that’s it. I think it’s time that I schedule you for another psychiatric evaluation.” He looked at his watch. “It’s been about three months since the last one, so would you like me to ask if the doctor can see you this evening?”
“Answer the question,” I said. “Do you think I’m soulless?”
“Depends. Is this conversation off the record?”
“Yes.”
“Well, with all due respect, Preston, I honestly think you’re an utter asshole.”
“That’s not what I asked you.”
“I thought we were off the record,” he said. “You are hands-down the most ruthless CEO I’ve ever worked for, and there have been plenty of times when I’ve thought you lacked a soul. Hell, I think the fact that you don’t have any family or friends in your life has worked to your benefit, but it’s also been a huge detriment in how you handle things sometimes.”
“Do you think I’m evasive?”
“You’re beyond evasive.” He laughed. “I’ve been working for you for eight years and I still have no idea who you are.” He laughed even harder and stood to his feet. “I’m going to get an energy drink, and when I get back, you’re going to be the all-business Mr. Parker that I admire. I’m not sure how to handle this other version of you.” He patted my shoulder as he left the room, and my mind immediately reverted to thoughts of Tara and that damn two weeks’ notice.
I thought about asking her how I could be less “soulless” or less “evasive,” if that would be enough to get her to be more comfortable staying. If I could tell her that I was willing to do whatever it took to get her to be okay with remaining here at Parker International.
Maybe we can talk this out like adults.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Parker.” Tara walked into my office, smiling. “Here’s your lunch.”
“The interns are responsible for bringing me lunch these days. You know that.”
“Oh, I know,” she said, setting down the tray. “But since today is such a great day, I wanted to personally handle it for you. I hope you enjoy everything, especially the mashed potatoes.”
“Why the fuck are they green?”
“They don’t look that green to me.”
“They’re the same color as the salad.”
“Maybe the chef put something in them, then.” She shrugged. “Here is the report on The W Hotels that you asked for earlier. I highlighted all the important parts, just as you asked.”
I looked down and saw that she’d highlighted “the” in every sentence.
“I’ve sent your cufflink and watch collection to a new jeweler to get them polished, but they seem to have lost a few of them.”
“Excuse me?”
“Don’t worry,” she said. “They’re willing to give you a free twenty-dollar cleaning credit if they don’t find them by the end of the day. I mean, the shop’s name is Best Pawn Deals & Cheap Jewelry Cleaning, so I think they’ll do just as good a job with your valuables as the guys at Audemars Piguet or Phillippe Patek.”