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“There’s no point wasting more time,” Neil said. “I’ll keep this short and sweet. Yes, the future of Luxmore is at risk. Is that the confirmation you were after?”
A collective sinking feeling was palpable. No one called out. No one dared say anything.
Neil continued. “For the company to stand a chance at survival, changes are going to have to be made, and not everyone will like them. Anyone who doesn’t wish to comply can walk away and leave the company at any time. Voluntary resignations will make my task of organising a restructure that much easier.”
Restructure. The word seared itself into my brain like a hot iron brand. It was true. People were going to lose their jobs—and I could be one of them.
The audience bristled. A few individuals were brave enough to raise their hands, but Neil ignored them. “Please, do not speak to the press. Anyone who does so will ensure their position is terminated. That is all I have to say on the matter at this point. I won’t be taking any questions.”
With that, he strode off stage and exited the conference theatre.
Brooke furrowed her brow. “What’s with that guy? What an arsehole.”
“We might lose our jobs,” I whimpered. That was all I could think about.
Chapter Three
“This is SO unfair!” Brooke wailed.
She had the same email up on her screen that everybody else did; a message from Neil Kingston outlining all the big changes that were coming to Luxmore Appliances.
“I know,” I said. “It’s only his first official day as CEO, and he dumps all this on us. What a prick.”
The list of changes included staff redundancies, an end to the staff trip to Fiji, the removal of the subsidy on cafeteria food, free car parking for senior staff scrapped, and a salary freeze on all management and executive positions.
Tension ran high in the office. My coworkers grumbled and groaned at their desks.
“The staff trip… Fiji…” Brooke’s eyes shone with uncried tears.
I swallowed my sip of coffee. “Wait. Jobs are on the line, and you’re most concerned about the staff trip?”
“Of course. It was my turn to go this year. I bought a new swimsuit and everything.”
To encourage staff retention, starting in their third year working at the company, employees were eligible to go on the trip that year and every third year after that. Or they were, until now.
A notification sound pinged around the room. One new message in the work chat. A light tittering started up before turning into a full-blown giggle fest. Even Brooke cracked a smile.
Wondering what all the fuss was about, I opened the chat. When I saw the picture, I had to hold a hand over my mouth not to laugh out loud and spray coffee everywhere. I snorted instead, causing some of the hot liquid to shoot up the back of my nose with an unpleasant stinging sensation.
Someone called Sunny from the IT department had posted an unflattering photo of Neil Kingston with a grumpy look on his face, edited to include a pair of devil horns, pitchfork, and a pointed tail. A repeating pattern of looping fire texture animated GIFs formed the background, reminiscent of nineties web design.
“Oh my gosh. What is this?” I asked when I had swallowed my coffee and recovered from laughter convulsions.
“Looks like someone had some spare time on their hands,” Brooke said, smirking at the picture on her screen.
In the days that followed, the picture became an office meme, spawning multiple humorous variations, including Neil in a tutu surrounded by sparkles, and Neil with his hair and nose removed to make him look like Lord Voldemort—that one was my favourite.
I was enjoying the latest rendition when the landline phone on my desk rang. At first, I didn’t realise it was mine. No one ever called me on it—everyone sent messages in the work chat. I wasn’t client facing, so it was unlikely to be an external call.
Wrong number?
I tentatively picked up. “Hello?”
“Is this Amelia Cross?” a man asked.
It was for me after all, and the use of my full name made it seem important. “Yes, that’s me.”
“Are you free to attend a quick meeting in ten minutes?”
