Lou leans forward even further. “Is there anything to her claim that you gave the promotion you promised her to Maxwell? Passed her over? Because you were college friends?”
“Well, I thought we were friends,” Greg mutters under his breath, so only I can hear him.
“Excuse me?” Lou insists.
Greg opens his hands out in front of him as though to proclaim his innocence. “She’s just an assistant, Lou,” he objects. “They come and they go, right? Maxwell is a team player. We’re lucky to have him. I brought him in so that—”
“Is he strong enough to replace you?” Lou interrupts.
Greg chokes audibly. “What?”
Lou stands up straight, somehow losing forty years of age as he crosses his arms in determination. He stares Greg up and down, who shrinks in response.
“Clarissa claims that your termination of her employment was wrongful and illegal. She’s currently suing us. Based on what you said here just now, I have reason to believe she’s telling us the truth. You’re dismissed.”
“What?” Greg snarls dangerously. “Dismissed? What does that mean?”
“It means you are done. You’re unemployed. You’re dismissed. Terminated.”
Greg glares vengefully at me before backing out of the room. To his credit, he doesn’t say another word.
When he’s gone, Lou lets the tension out of his posture and leans on the edge of his desk again.
“Can you take on the VP role?” he asks, weariness plain in his voice.
I make a mental assessment of the position, weighing the role against my skills. I can take it on. I have been doing it the entire time I have been here. But is that even wise to let this man offer me a VP position with only three weeks of experience?
“Of course I can take it on,” I answer confidently.
“And can you hire Clarissa back as your executive assistant?” Lou asks, peering at me shrewdly through bleary, age-tested eyes.
“I thought you needed a Head Broker?” I counter, aware that if I were ever going to ask for anything from Lou Tolliver, now is my moment.
He presses his lips together, sucking his cheeks in thoughtfully as he considers the predicament. “Well, I don’t know… But it does seem like we owe her, doesn’t it?”
“It does,” I answer.
“Of course, if it doesn’t work out, you will be taking full responsibility,” he smiles mischievously.
Taking a deep breath, I weigh the possibilities. She could be wonderful. Greg slipped under the radar for this long, so she must know something. Or she could be awful, and I will continue to do a majority of the work to cover my own ass and her ass.
What could go wrong?
“Yes, sir. I think that will be fine.”
Now I really need that coffee, I realize. It’s going to be a very long night. Lou finally shakes my hand as he leaves for the night and I go to the breakroom for a double shot of fairly decent Ethiopian espresso. Should be just enough.
I guess I can look at the bright side… Since Greg shoveled all his work on to me, he never took the files out of this office when he vacated it. Everything is here. I should be able to pick up the thread of his responsibilities without too much of a problem.
The files are kept in low, wide drawers that open heavily on sturdy metal rollers. Each of the tabs is neatly labeled with the name of the project, and then an update noted in pen with the closing date for the project. Quickly I find the section of open projects, remarking silently how efficiently everything is organized. Closed and abandoned projects are in separate areas, marked by color-coded dividers. It’s easy to figure out what I need to work on, and I tug the thick folders out of the drawer, balancing them on both arms before setting them on the long, wooden counter.
Flipping through them, I quickly divide the projects between things I need to take care of myself, which is generally the things that are most urgent and require a face-to-face meeting, and things I can delegate to the new Head Broker. The stacks of folders end up more or less even. That seems fair.
Yet as I flip through the folders, I can’t help but see the detailed, efficient notes that Clarissa left in strategic places. Suggestions for further developments… Details of meetings that were held… A cover sheet with open-action items and contact names.
She really is excellent at this job. In fact, it will be hard to keep up with her.
It is quite late before I get a chance to lock up my office and head out. I am the last one here. Out of the corner of my eye I can see Greg’s office door is ajar, leading into the darkened space beyond. Or… Not Greg’s office. My office? I should feel more eager about that promotion, I know. It just doesn’t sit right with me yet.