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And at the back of the line was April. She wouldn’t even look at Nora.
Parker had come through the turnstile to stand with her, but she could see the conflicted look on her poor assistant’s face. He raised a fist in solidarity to his colleagues. “What the actual fuck is going on?” he asked. “Christmas Eve-Eve is supposed to be about me and you sneaking bites of Maureen’s leftover yule log from the Sales Department fridge and doing as little work as possible.”
He was right, it was traditionally a coast on auto-pilot day…not an HR nightmare. “Have you seen Hedstrom today?”
“Yeah, he was in his office when I got in. Totally felt like business as usual. Then April texted to say she was coming from the coffee shop with a big order for us, so I came down to help her carry. Next thing I know, there’s this guy in a suit coming in, acting all hot shit and telling security not to let Britesmith staff upstairs, least of all, you. ”
Nora felt sick to her stomach.Trust me.How many times had Beck said that?
“And that’s when I texted you. Angelo was the first to arrive.”
Hearing that hurt her heart – Britesmith’s oldest employee loved coming to the voluntary Monday All Hands meetings Nora had instituted last year. It was a time for any employee to gather and discuss industry insights, learn of show openings and closings, and share ideas. To think of him being turned away…
Nora contemplated the Security Desk. Then the turnstile. She hadn’t jumped over one since she was thirteen and Vivi Rosenthal had shaken her down for her MetroCard at the 72ndStreet subway line after Hebrew school.
“I believe in those pants – slay queen.” Parker encouraged. “I’ll even hold your boots.”
Nora leaned on the security guard’s desk. “You know what I’m thinking and I know what you’re thinking.” Charlie smirked, held down the access button and glanced the other way. She grabbed the list and she and Parker scurried into an open elevator. Its door sliding shut with a chime that her assistant’s phone echoed.
“Holy crap, Nolan just texted. IT was called in to confiscate Hedstrom’s laptop.”
ChapterNineteen
The tenth floor was eerily quiet. Someone had left their desk fan on, which blew against a long strand of silver tinsel decorating a cubicle; it danced and died, danced and died, each time the fan oscillated. But that was the only movement down the long corridor to Hedstrom’s office.
Parker ducked into his cube, no doubt eager to jump on Britesmith’s messaging platform for any further intel.
The fluorescent lights auto-clicked on as Nora passed each cubicle. An energy-saving function for when sections of the floor were left unstaffed. She wondered if the office would ever return to fully lit again.
Too lit to quit.Good thing she hadn’t worn Beck’s ugly Hanukkah sweater. It couldn’t be further from the truth. After the adrenaline surge came the shaky, jangly feeling. Her hand shook as she stopped and grabbed a pen, scrawling letters to form words on the back of the fateful slip of paper containing the list.
She couldn’t believe she had been entertaining fantasies about a flirty, office romance just this morning. The excitement and thrill she had imagined of glimpsing Beck at work had been replaced by dread. And pent-up rage. Had she literally traded in one boss on a power trip for another? At least with Hedstrom, his motivations were pretty much in plain sight. Worse with Beck, because she had let herself believe – trust – that they were in this together.
Hedstrom’s chair was empty, but it had a suitcoat slung over the back of it. Jay and Avi’s voices rose up in her ears, questioning her about Beck on the Baller.What’s he want from you? What’s he expecting?She should’ve thrown the jacket – and the thought of hooking up with its owner – overboard that night and just stayed in the safe company of her friends, people who had her best interests at heart.
Desk drawers were open and paper was strewn. A thick, blue file folder sat open in the middle of the desk. Beck must’ve found it exactly where she had told him it would be, and he must’ve used it exactly how she had instructed. Because even Hedstrom had a confidential personnel file where she kept track of things, and also kept his contract. His non-compete clause. And now, she could see as she stepped closer, it held his signed resignation letter.
At least Beck did the one thing he said he would do.
“Young lady.”
She turned to find an older man at the window. Sleeves rolled but tie intact. His dress pants belonged to the jacket, which she now noticed had pinstripes, like her own.
Not Beck’s.
“I wish we were meeting under better circumstances,” the man began, “and that my nephew – ”
“Iwish I had never met him. And it doesn’t matter which Myers family member I tell this to.” Her words came out in a rush, as she smacked the paper down. “I quit.”
And without another word to spare, Nora stormed out.
* * *
Alex Beckman stood in the entryway. Not even trying to blend in this time.
The conference room was back to its regular corporate landscape; the only trace of the holiday party was a skid-mark of faux snow on the nylon carpet that the janitor must’ve missed while vacuuming.
He glanced at the ceiling. No mistletoe.
