I cringed at the insinuation of my feature in the Chicago Sun-Times.
"The Wall Street Journal pondered if Dynex could make investors rich. One of their numbskull reporters wrote that we are potentially misleading investors because we've classified ourselves as a tech company when our business is science. What difference does it make? Buy the damn stock or don't buy the damn stock." She reached into the glass candy dish on her desk, grabbed a handful of M&Ms, and flung them into her mouth. "Look at what happened in Silicon Valley. The board ousted their CEO, my friend, because of accusations of fraud. She became a mockery, and the media went through remarkable lengths to make her look like a scammer. Her personal life circled down the drain along with her career. She never recovered from it."
"To be fair, the machine didn't analyze the blood as she claimed. People could have died because of misdiagnoses."
She tossed another handful of candy into her mouth. Chewing noisily, she stared at the papers scattered across her desk.
"While you're thinking, here's a copy of the status of the application projects. I thought that I would bring you up-to-speed on what my team's working on." She met my attempt at returning to our agenda with complete silence.
"This is moving so fast. We need to figure out how to slow the IPO." Nic leaned back in her chair.
"Why? This is what we've all waited for." I tried to tamp down the panic in my voice.
"I know! I blame Tony Jones for this. The fucking pig practically salivated at going public. He wants my job and my head. The board and the investors don't care about the company; they only want to cash out." She lowered her voice to a whisper. "Strangers looking into our dirty laundry makes me nervous. You and Jeff are my only allies. He pledged to help me get out of a small mess, and I am requesting the same from you."
My boss, Jeffrey Cagle, was Nic's personal lackey. He performed all the menial tasks that Nic didn't have the patience or interest in doing. For a minute, I took offense to the comparison and wondered how I became mixed in with this band of misfits.
Improving and increasing the product line offering had been our corporate strategy. Made sense that the Chief Product Officer would lead the company. My peers and I applauded Nic's promotion. We'd thought she was the best option; she'd known the company and the products and could strongly advocate for the right thing. We'd thought we had someone on our side.
Three years later, I'd heard rumors of personal and financial impropriety. Word had it that the balance sheets were a mess. The rumor mill called her financial stewardship into question when she secured a personal loan using Dynex shares. She routinely rejected ideas to enhance the business in favor of those that improved our external appearance. There was no greater example of that than when we moved the headquarters from the suburbs to the most expensive zip code in downtown Chicago.
I sat in silence for a beat before continuing. "As you can see from my status report, we are in green status for all the projects, and I've found a few analysts to work directly with the ER Wallace team."
"Yeah, about that. I saw you making eyes at those women. I know you. I want you to be careful with your attention and remember where your loyalty lies. I need the old Garrett Hamilton magic. Is there anything we can do to make the website more attractive to potential stockholders? What about your proposal for a partnership with that gene research company? What do you need to get it going? I'll give you the budget and the people to make it happen. We could announce it shortly, before the end of the audit."
"Nic, you nixed the idea. They reached out to another company. You said the partnership didn't align with the corporate strategy. I don't know if there is anything I can implement in the next six months."
She'd unapologetically pooh-poohed the idea as a punishment, a reprisal for ignoring her or not kissing her ass. Who knew?
"It need not be active on the website. All we need is a signed agreement or a documented idea. Also, think of anything you can do to keep the Wallace team from digging too deeply. I need a few months to tie up a few loose ends." She straightened in her chair and looked me in the eye. "I don't want to do this, but you know I will. Either help me, or I'll get Jeff to fire you. We may blame you for the failed IPO. It'll be all over the news and will put these articles to shame. Your career will never be the same after I have you blackballed. I'll throw out your friend, Hunter, too. Do we have an agreement?"
A rush of air escaped my lips. Historically, I've given Nic a bit of leeway. We were peers before the board of directors promoted her to CEO. I couldn't imagine the amount of stress she was under. To be thirty-four and on the brink of becoming a leader of a multi-billion-dollar public organization. How do you prepare for that?
But this was a new low for Nic. I was used to her tantrums and strong-arm tactics, but I never thought that she would resort to blackmail and threats.
Headhunters called me every day; I didn't need to stay at Dynex. However, I was five months away from full vesting on my shares. I couldn't walk away from a quarter of a million dollars.
"I'll see what I can do."
"Here's what I expect. You'll develop an innovative idea. You'll disrupt the ER Wallace analysts. Give them the wrong information. Take control of the situation." She watched my face, studying my reaction. She stacked the articles, along with my status report, into a neat pile before tossing them into a nearby recycling bin. "We're done. I'll keep these meetings on the calendar. Please keep me updated."
And like that, she dismissed me.
Control the situation, echoed in my head as I walked from the executive suite to the conference room. I was in shock that Nic would blackmail me. Half a million dollars, my professional reputation, eight years of late nights and working during vacations—it would go down the drain.
It's one thing to say that the board didn't respect her, but when she asked me to do something unethical, then that became a problem.
Like every other meeting, I left Nic's office feeling drained. I needed to relax and change my mentality to have a happy work experience. As I walked to the project war room, I repeated a mantra familiar to all disgruntled employees. I love my job. I love my fucking job.
The Skokie room was one of the largest, most secluded conference rooms at Dynex and the home to the audit team for the next four months. The designers furnished the space with state-of-the-art audio-visual equipment. We had all the modern amenities to make their stay comfortable.
Reeling from the discussion with Nic, I barked hello to Jasmine, Lilah, and Hunter and exhaled the breath of air that I'd held.
If I wanted my money, I would do Nic's dirty work.
The three huddled around a whiteboard as Hunter talked through a flowchart. He raised a brow when our eyes met.
"You okay?"
"Yeah. I'm fine." Wanting to avoid any conversation regarding the one-on-one with Nic, I called over to Jasmine. "Jasmine, in fifteen minutes, I'll need an update."
She jumped at my sharp and demanding tone, giving me a smile full of uncertainty about me and my request.
"Um. There's not much to report. We've had several interviews with the—"
"Fifteen minutes, I require a full, formal report on what you've done in the last three days." I tapped my finger on the table for emphasis and instantly felt like an asshole. Avoiding Hunter's glare, I interlaced my fingers, slid them behind my head, and leaned back in my chair.