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“Too busy to give something you bought the basic necessities to live?”
“Well if we’re getting into specifics. It was a gift. Therefore, shouldn’t its survival be bestowed onto the receiver?”
With a frustrated growl, I picked up his glass of water—that Linda filled for him—and tipped it into the pot. “It needs to be watered daily,” I stated, before retreating towards the exit.
“I look forward to your daily visit then.” I didn’t need to turn around to know he was smiling.
* * *
Morale in the office was in a serious decline and I couldn’t stand it. I tried to stay out of the office for as long as I could, careful not to get caught up in the bitterness.
Searching the streets and parks for my stories in the morning, I wrote them up at my desk in the afternoon and attended gigs at night. I was incredibly busy, but if I kept my head down I would get through it, although I remained unsure of what was on the other side. The Harlow brothers obviously wanted to see how well we worked under pressure and I was determined to show them I was a motherfucking diamond.
With the few hours I spent in the office, I wrote steadily and met my targets. Others however, were struggling. The ones with families mostly, but I didn’t have that problem.
The only interaction I had with Grayson each day was due to his inability to care for anything but himself.
“Hi,” I said quietly, slipping into his office with my watering can.
Instead of his usual playful smirk, he was massaging his temples and frowning.
“All okay?”
He took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes before peering up at me. “Can you close the door?”
Panic flooded me. I slowly pushed the door closed, making the room virtually soundproof, and prepared myself for the worst. “Should I sit?”
Grayson sighed as he regarded my expression. “You’re not getting fired, Josie. I just want to ask your opinion on something.”
“Oh, okay.” My eyelids fluttered.
He chuckled at my surprise and motioned to the chair. “Please sit.”
Panning my gaze around the room, I searched for signs I’d fallen into an alternate universe. I placed the watering can on the desk between us and gradually lowered myself into the chair.
“My father wants me to cull more employees,” he stated, remaining expressionless.
I gasped, but remained quiet. When I didn’t meet his eyes, he continued.
“I don’t want to, but some people aren’t pulling their weight. Their work is good, but they’re not producing like they have in the past. Good is not going to cut it anymore. I need great.”
I chuckled. Is he really this clueless?
“What?”
My eyes grew large. “Honestly?”
His mouth twitched upwards and he nodded. “Go.”
“Well, what did you expect would happen?” I blurted, almost rolling my eyes. “You come in here pressuring us, threatening our jobs, treating us like…like dirt, and then you expect great results?” I shook my head and frowned. “Unhappy people will never give you their best.”
“Are you unhappy here?”
Heat crept up my neck. “Yes.”
“But your work is excellent.”
I shrugged. “I don’t count. I don’t have anywhere else to be.” My jaw clenched as I tried to remain composed. “These people…they have families. They’re expected to be home at dinnertime, to spend time with their kids, to come home with a smile on their face. These new conditions have caused so much stress and anxiety, and you haven’t shown one ounce of empathy.”
