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The name I had feared. My heart sped up and my muscles tensed. Neil Kingston, the new CEO, wanted to see me. In all my time working at Luxmore, I had never met with the CEO before. He was far too big and important.
At least he has the guts to fire his employees face to face. No, I bet he gets a kick out of it.
“Please, take a seat. I’m sure he’ll be with you soon,” James said.
“But what does he want to see me about?” I asked.
James frowned. “I don’t know much except that he’s been talking to a lot of employees over the last couple of days. Sorry.”
“Oh. That’s all right. Thanks.”
I slunk to the couch, defeated. A glass pitcher of water with lemon slices and half-melted ice cubes sat on the coffee table. I poured myself a small cup.
So far, all signs pointed towards redundancy. Why else would the CEO be meeting a bunch of employees one by one in his office?
The top on inside-out incident replayed in my head. Why, oh why, did that have to happen? Mr. Kingston’s first impression of me was as someone who couldn’t even dress herself properly, and if he realised I had been trying to flirt with him, even worse.
I’m so doomed.
Gulping the icy, lemony water did little to deter my rapidly rising body temperature. My legs were beginning to adhere to the leather upholstery. Left for much longer, I might permanently fuse with it.
A woman emerged from beyond the reception area and strode towards the lifts. Had she just come from meeting Mr. Kingston too? Did that mean it was my turn now? I watched her with laser eyes, analysing her behaviour for clues. She didn’t look upset, but she seemed contemplative with her furrowed brow and the way she chewed her lip.
Hmm.
Someone else appeared a moment later. I noticed the baby bump first, then I took in the rest of her. She was an elegant woman, dressed in black, wide-legged trousers and a blue-grey silk blouse. No makeup, apart from a subtle shade of lipstick. Her black hair was pulled back with a chic claw clip. “Amelia Crook,” she called.
Peeling myself from the couch felt like ripping off Velcro. Sounded like it too. I cringed, hoping she didn’t hear. Once I had extricated myself, I introduced myself properly. “Actually, it’s Amelia Cross. There’s an Amelia Crook in the marketing department. Our names are so similar, we get mixed up all the time. Most people just call me by my nickname, Milly.”
“That is confusing. Milly Cross. I’ll remember that. My name’s Christine Liu. I’m Neil’s secretary.”
“Nice to meet you, Christine.”
“Come on through. Let me take you to see Neil.”
Christine seemed warm and friendly, but her cheeriness felt at odds with the situation at hand.
“So… what’s this meeting about?” I asked.
“Don’t worry. Neil is going to talk to every head office employee over the next few days. It’s not just you. Nothing has been decided yet.”
Whew. He wasn’t going to fire me after all. Not now, at least. He was talking to everyone, and he couldn’t fire all of us—as much as I was sure he’d like to.
“That’s a relief,” I said, my shoulders loosening up a tad.
She ushered me inside a modern office with large windows overlooking the busy central business district. A series of black-and-white framed photographs displayed a timeline of the company’s history on taupe walls, and two wooden desks stood at opposite sides of the room. Between them, an open door led to another area.
“This is my office,” Christine said. “Neil’s office is through that door.”
I eyed the open doorway with trepidation, but from my current angle, I couldn’t see inside.
“Would you like a tea or coffee? Water?” Christine asked.
“No, thank you.”
“Then let’s go in. Neil’s waiting.”
I followed her through the door into Neil’s office. The room was spacious and decorated in a tasteful, modern fashion. Floor-to-ceiling windows lined the left wall, roller blinds pulled partway down to impede the stream of sunlight. A seating area occupied the front of the room, with two long black leather couches on opposite sides of an oval glass coffee table. Neil’s desk stood at the end of the room in front of a wall of shelves stuffed with books and files. He sat on his black executive chair, head down, eyes on the paperwork in front of him. He hunched his shoulders. His jaw was tight, and a vein popped out on his forehead. I wasn’t sure whether he was in a bad mood or if he always looked like that. I was leaning towards the latter theory. Either way, my guard was up.
