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“I’m just saying it’s not how I want to handle this particular situation, okay? Our legal team is very confident in our odds for winning this case. Then, the company won’t have to waste any more money on this loser, and we also won't run the risk of looking weak.”
“What are you talking about, looking weak?” he barked. “We will make him sign an NDA and nobody will hear of this.”
“Nobody except the people inside the company,” I said. “You can’t keep these sorts of things under wraps in a workplace like this. All the employees from the top down will see us kowtow to this guy, and they’ll see us hand over a large sum of money just because he made one little threat. Do you think our employees will respect us after that? Because I think it’ll just encourage the next person who gets fired to try this same thing!”
“Still,” my dad said. “It’s always better to keep things internal. If we take this man to court, he is going to talk to the press, and then we could be inbigtrouble. Isn’t he claiming wrongful termination? Those lawsuits are no joke, son. In this social climate, we will get murdered in the press. It’s not worth it, I’m telling you.”
“Well, I think it is.”
He folded his arms and stared me right in the eye. “David, I’m not fucking around. You have to settle.”
“No,” I said. “I don’t. I’m the CEO, it’s my call, and I’ve already made up my mind. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I am going to go get myself some coffee. I really do have a lot of work I have to get done today, so I would appreciate it if you were no longer in my office when I got back.” I walked past him and his stunned face and smiled before going out the door. “Thanks. Have a good one, Dad.”
And then, I left, feeling ever so slightly better than I had when I walked in.
* * *
In an attempt to lift my spirits, even more, I decided to go to my favorite cafe for lunch. I couldn’t remember the last time I went out to lunch by myself. I either had ‘working lunches’ with co-workers, possible clients, or my brothers, in which I would always let whomever I was going out with choose where we ate. Or, I ate alone at my desk while I got work done.
That day, however, all I wanted was a turkey sandwich, an iced tea, and some time to myself. I was so excited about lunch that when I saw Lily walking toward the elevators at the same time as me, I didn’t even try to avoid her. Instead, I smiled politely, and let her go into the elevator first.
“After you,” I said.
She frowned at me, and I could tell she was confused, considering the last time we saw each other we had gotten into yet another stupid fight. But I didn’t care about that anymore. Heck, I barely cared about it while we were in the middle of it. I didn’t know how the fight started or why, and frankly, I saw no point in putting any more thought or energy into this little feud she seemed so desperate to keep fueling.
“Off to lunch?” I asked as she pressed the button for the lobby.
“Yes,” she said. “I was just going to get something from the food truck that’s always parked around the corner.”
“That place is pretty good,” I said. “I’m sure you’ll like it.”
She nodded. “Yeah, well, okay.”
A silence fell over us, and while I normally would’ve felt awkward standing there next to her saying nothing, that day I was simply too distracted to worry about what this woman may or may not be thinking. When the doors opened, I waved to her and stepped out. “Have a good day,” I said.
She paused before walking out behind me. I turned to look over my shoulder at her and caught a hint of a tiny, subtle smile. “You too,” she said.
As I walked out onto the street, I humored the idea of waiting for her and going to the food truck as well, but then thought better of it. That was the first positive interaction the two of us had had since she started working for Becker Tech, and I worried that I might end up jinxing it by overstaying my welcome.
So, I went left, away from the corner where the food truck was located and stuck with my original plan of having lunch all by myself.
ChapterNine
LILY
Ididn’t see David around the office much the rest of that week.
The time I spent looking at his old social media, combined with the little elevator run-in we had on Tuesday, got me thinking that I probably really had misjudged the guy. I wasn’t his number one fan or anything, but I did see a path for us to be more cordial to one another going forward. I was, after-all, going to have to start meeting with him fairly regularly to give him updates on the wrongful termination lawsuit, and I would hate for us to be at each other’s throats every time we saw one another.
So, I made it a goal to start being nicer to him. I planned on smiling at him in the hallway instead of tucking my chin and looking away, and then I would see where things progressed from there. Unfortunately, I didn’t get a chance to put any of this into action because David was MIA for the next three days.
Finally, on Friday afternoon, I asked Patricia, one of the other attorneys working for Becker, if she’d seen David recently.
“No,” she said. “I heard he’s been leaving early most days this week.” We were sitting in the break-room sipping coffee, and she leaned in close and lowered her voice. “You know, some people think he might be having health problems or something.”
I frowned. “Why do they think that?”
“Well, because we can’t think of any other reason he would randomly be going home early. For the last five years, this man has done nothing but put in overtime. Something big must be going on if he’s taking time off.”
