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“I don’t know! I’m just trying to be supportive!”
Lucy grumbled, knowing full well it would be frowned upon to bring an emotional support friend to her meeting with the CEO but wanting to do it anyway.
“This is bad, Oliver.”
He gave her a sad smile. “I believe in you.”
She grabbed her phone and headed for the door.
“Good luck!” he softly called behind her, sounding as defeated as she felt.
—
For the second time that morning, Lucy found herself in Jonathan’s office with its disagreeable eastern view. He lorded over his keep from his onyx desk. His workspace was clear of anything other than his computer and a piece of his personal letterhead with a fountain pen resting atop it.
“Lucy, have a seat,” he greeted her.
The tension filling the room reminded Lucy of a horror film where something terrifying waited to jump out from the dark. She sat and felt her pulse fluttering in her wrists, in her throat. The hot imprint of his hand from only an hour before suddenly scorched her knee.
He sat across from her, confident as ever, as if nothing had happened, and it struck Lucy as wildly unfair that he could lie so freely about something so serious. He gave her a soft smile that she couldn’t stand.
“Why am I here?”
He chuckled a sound Lucy would forever associate with contempt. “To the point, as usual. Lucy, after our discussion this morning and some time for reflection, I’ve decided it’s best that our paths diverge going forward. I will ask HR to facilitate the termination paperwork. You will, of course, be provided with a generous severance package to accommodate the short notice.”
The closest Lucy had ever come to an out-of-body experience was a regrettable night out in Hollywood that involved a questionable substance from the DJ Oliver was dating at the time. As she sat in Jonathan’s posh office, the words termination paperwork suddenly gave her a bird’s-eye view of herself. She circled around the ceiling for a few seconds before she came to and realized Jonathan was still talking.
“I’m sorry, what?” she said, cutting him off, and held out a hand. Though she half expected it after the morning’s incident, the reality was sharper than a blade. “You’re actually firing me?”
“Lucy, this doesn’t have to be difficult. And like I said, your severance offer”—he flicked his wrist to reach for his pen—“is generous.” He scratched out a number, the gold tip of his pen glinting in sharp licks, and slid the piece of paper toward her.
She picked it up, and moisture blurred her vision, whether from rage or fear, she wasn’t sure. She blinked it away and looked at the J&J letterhead: Jonathan Jenkins, CEO printed beneath the logo. She did a double take at the number of zeros following the dollar amount. It was more than her annual salary.
Pieces snapped into place so quickly, Lucy almost flinched from understanding. She couldn’t stop herself from standing up and calling it like she saw it.
“You’re bribing me?”
Jonathan blanched. “I’m sorry?”
“Don’t play dumb,” she snapped, and almost threw her hands over her mouth. The truth curse was alive and well, and she was racking up points for saying inappropriate things to the CEO.
But even so, she couldn’t stop.
“I have done nothing to deserve getting fired.” She waved the form. “This is just an attempt to get rid of me before I say anything about being harassed.”
He uncomfortably adjusted his posture, clearly not expecting her to speak so plainly again, but he had no idea what he was up against. He faltered for a moment and smoothed his hand over his tie, regaining his composure. He sternly cleared his throat. “I have no idea what you are talking about.”
“Oh, come on,” Lucy nearly groaned. “You know exactly—”
“Ms. Green!” He cut her off with a dark note in his voice that made her take a step back. He remained seated; another power play. He didn’t have to stand, to tower over her, to intimidate her. He spoke in a cool, measured tone. “There seems to have been a misunderstanding. I know nothing about harassment claims. The severance package is in gratitude for your contributions to this company. I can revoke the offer and you can leave with nothing, if you would prefer. Either way, you no longer work for J&J Public, effective immediately.”
The phrase was quite possibly the worst combination of words she had ever heard in her life.
Something tight clenched her throat like the sour pucker of lemonade. Except there was no refreshment along with it. Just fear. And anger.
She glanced down at the paper again, all those zeros. She felt sudden sympathy for all the women who had been pressured to accept money in exchange for silence. Was there a price high enough? Jonathan thought so. Clearly.
On another day, she may have joined the legions paid to keep their mouths shut. But since keeping her mouth shut was no longer something she could do, it seemed she had more options at her disposal.
