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I nodded. This created an open threat to ongoing operations and a smooth transition if Nicole worked against me rather than for me.
My work would be cut out for me. “Thanks, Rosa, I’ll try.”
She nodded her head toward the door. “She’s in her office now.”
* * *
Nicole
Returning to my office,I ran into Gary Fontaine, our controller.
“Is it true?” he asked. “They want to merge us with Smith’s?”
“I don’t know,” I responded. “I doubt it.” Those words came more from hope than what I knew. I touched him on the shoulder. “It’ll be okay.”
His face didn’t brighten the way it would have if he’d believed what I’d said.
“There’s another problem you should know about,” he added.
I backed away. “Gary, I don’t have time right now. Sorry.”
It hurt to see the dejected look on his face as he turned.
As if that wasn’t bad enough, I ran into Jenny from marketing as well before I could reach the safety of my office door. Our conversation wasn’t identical, but the concerns were.
These people had depended on me to provide a safe working environment for them. They’d given us years of service. What was I now giving them in return? Was I running away from the fight instead of giving them back the loyalty they’d given us over the years?
I assured Jenny the Smith’s rumor wasn’t true. That would go a long way in reassuring everyone else. Telling Jenny something was better than using a megaphone. She was queen of the gossip mill.
My office was only a few feet away when the next employee caught my eye and started toward me.
Like a coward, I turned away from her, stepped into my office, and closed the door. I couldn’t lie to another one of them about how things would be okay. After rounding my desk, I collapsed into the chair.
This was so fucked up. I was fucked seven ways from Sunday—a debt I couldn’t pay, a lien on my house because Lara had been accused of embezzling from the company, and a stupid non-compete agreement that Ernst had insisted upon.
I couldn’t even work at a McDonald’s without fucking Benson’s approval. Maybe I could get a job selling T-shirts and sunglasses to tourists on Venice Beach, just so long as the shop didn’t also sell soda pop or Tic-Tacs.
I ignored the knock at my door. Dealing with anybody after Gary and Jenny held no appeal.
After a second knock, the handle turned, and the door opened slightly.
“Nicole?” Josh said through the crack. “Are you decent?”
I quickly considered taking off my top to keep him out. “No,” I lied. It would be a quick and dirty defense against the man, but it wouldn’t last. “I mean yes.”
The door opened and he slid inside, closing it quickly behind him and putting a hand up. “Just hear me out before you say anything.”
I nodded wordlessly, unsure what exactly I wanted to say to him anyway. It was all such a jumble in my head—the impossibility of my position if I left, the feeling of letting everyone down if I abandoned them. How could I balance that against the pain I’d feel coming in here day after day and watching what we’d built being destroyed?
He took the visitor’s chair opposite mine. “I’m not good at asking for help.”
The man had all the power. What the hell did he need help with?
If I held more cards than I realized, I intended to use them. “I’m listening,” I said coyly.
He leaned back in his chair and ran a hand through his hair. “How’s Lara, by the way?”
“Uh...” Caught off balance by his question, I searched for the right words. “She’s dealing with it.”
