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Bex
* * *
I walk toward the office. Two more people come running, both sobbing. “What’s going on?” I ask, but they walk past without stopping. As I open the door, I’m greeted by more chaos. No one is at their desk. There are two groups of people, one to the left-hand side and one to the right. Everyone is talking at once.
We work in an ample open space with desks in neat rows. At the back, a flight of stairs leads up to Melanie’s private office. The glass is frosted, but I can see her shadow through it, along with someone else. A man, by the looks of things.
I hear the start of her shouting, but then the sound cuts out. She’s still talking, the shadow showing her hands waving, but now she’s too quiet to be heard. Whoever is in there with her is behind her desk, and she’s not happy about it.
“What’s going on?” I ask Jo, who’s looking like she’s seen a ghost. Her face is as white as her hair. She whispers in my ear. “The whole place is being gutted. We got bought out last night, and the new boss is cleaning house.”
“Seriously?”
Someone else chips in. “Catherine was the first to go. Those over there think they’re safe, but we’re all waiting to be called into the office. He’s doing this slowly, apparently. Having some fun with it.”
“Who is it in there?”
“Some Italian guy.”
Eric’s by the window, biting his nails. He walks over and joins in. “Walked in here without saying howdy to anyone, straight into Melanie’s office. Called Catherine two minutes later. Eddie is gone too. Out without so much as time to empty his desk.”
“Holy shit. I think I know who it is in there.”
“You do? How?”
I realize a large group of people is looking at me. I’m not sure what to tell them. “Look, just don’t do anything. I’m going to go and talk to him.”
“Don’t. He’ll throw you out. It’s not worth it. Wait until you’re called up.”
“Fuck that. I’m not having him pick us off one by one. Wait here.” I march up the stairs before anyone can stop me, knocking on Melanie’s door but not stopping. I push it open and find Melanie sobbing on her knees. I’ve never seen her cry. When her dog got hit by a truck, she came into work like nothing had happened. That time she had a cancer scare. She was still at work when she got the call. Nothing on her face at all. But now, this is the world turning upside down.
She’s an ugly crier. She turns as I walk in, still on her knees, scowling at me. “You,” she says, pulling herself up me. “Tell him to take it back. Make him take it back.”
“We’re done,” Hunter says from behind the desk. “Miss Harrison, you’re fired. I don’t want to see you in this building ever again.”
“I’ll get you for this,” she hisses, marching out without another word. “Both of you.”
“Close the door,” Hunter says.
“What the fuck are you doing?”
“Shut the door, and we’ll talk.”
I push the door closed. “You bought us out? You’re the new investor?”
“Last night, George Ivanov sold his share of this building to me. I have a controlling interest. This building and all the firms in it are now under my control. I have emptied the place clean apart from this floor.”
“Why are we still going?”
“Because I am interested in couture designs and I like this magazine. Thought I could run it for a while, have a little fun.”
“Ivanov swore to us he’d never sell. This was his first start-up when he came to the States. He’s a good man. He gave us all cookies every Christmas.”
“He’s not a good man. He’s a bad businessman. This place has been hemorrhaging money for years. I intend to up the rents and get better businesses in. Ones that actually make money.”
“So you’re our new boss?”
“You catch on fast.”
