Page 62 of Scrooge-ish

Page List


Font:  

“I quit,” I blurt.

“You weren’t really going to go there, were you?” Bethany narrows her eyes at Jude. “You, of all people.” There’s suggestion in her tone and I glance from her to Jude and back.

“Miss Cooper, do I need to remind you I’m the owner of this company and your boss as well?”

“Nope. You do it all the time.” Bethany stands. “As for Eva . . .” She turns to me. “Your record and devotion to Ashford’s has been impeccable. We’d be fools to let you leave us.”

“But you’re firing me,” I cut her off.

“Possibly,” Jude says.

“No,” Bethany interjects over him. “Your mother died, and you didn’t take the bereavement leave we allow our employees. You’re allotted five days. In addition, you’ve never taken a sick day or a vacation day this year. We owe you three weeks of time after eight years of service. I’d like to suggest you take a month off.”

“So a leave of absence, disguising that I’m being fired?” My brows crease as I ask for clarification.

“We aren’t firing you,” Bethany corrects.

“We are,” Jude states.

Bethany shakes her head and holds up a hand to Jude before looking back to me. “You deserve the time. You’ve worked hard. And if you did have sex in the fitting room, it isn’t grounds for termination.” Bethany narrows her eyes and glares at Jude, emphasizing her words. “But it would go down in your record for disorderly conduct. However, we didn’t come in here knowing that happened and I didn’t hear you mention sex. You specifically said you didn’t have sex. I don’t need to know what you did do. We wanted to discuss the cash drawer being short.”

“But you’re asking me about it two weeks after it happened.” I look from Bethany to Jude, who hangs his head, and I realize something.

Jude needs me, not the other way around. I’ve been the top manager for three years under his shitty reign. He needs me to upkeep the reputation of Ashford’s because he certainly isn’t an asset. He might have inherited this company and been bitter about it but the people who work for him do it with pride because Ashford’s is an icon in Chicago. He needs his employees more than we need him.

“I’m still quitting.” I can’t believe I’m doing this.

After eight years, and at forty years old, I’m walking away.

“Eva, I’d like you to reconsider. Take this month and think about it. We value you at Ashford’s.” Bethany keeps her gaze on me.

“Do you?” I direct my question to Jude. “Do you know the long hours I’ve put in? The things I’ve given up to work here? The life I haven’t led because I’m always working.”

Jude doesn’t respond but Bethany’s eyes soften.

She glances at Jude, pursing her lips before looking back at me. “I’m not accepting your resignation. Take your month.”

“As a leave of absence? While you investigate me?” My voice rises with disbelief and anger.

Bethany shakes her head, but Jude doesn’t look at me. This miser of a man who has a heart as small as the Grinch himself is a fucking coward.

“Good luck with your store, Mr. Ashford.” With that, I turn away from both of them and walk to my desk. Staring down at it, I don’t have any personal effects. No family photos. No cute pencil holder. Not even a plant. My office is plain just like my life has been.

I log myself out of my computer and exit Ashford’s.

As I stand on State Street, wondering what I’ll do with myself, I tuck my hands in my jacket and walk. Aimlessly, I wander through the theatre district and among stores. The street is slushy from yesterday’s snow. The air is cold but my blood races within me. I start to sweat until I find myself standing before Old Saint Pat’s, an iconic Catholic church.

I’m no longer a practicing Catholic and I debate entering the church. I stare at the heavy wooden doors and peer up at the steeple. During business hours, the church is open for people to wander in and offer a prayer. Maybe for good fortune. Maybe for business success. Maybe for something different.

I make my own silent statement standing on the street.

I will forgive the past, stop doubting the future, and love myself and others more in the present.

Taking in a large gulp of the wintery air, I smile to myself, resolute in my plan. Then I turn on my heels and walk in the direction of my apartment.

+ + +

“Hello?” I answer my phone when I see fox-of-a-fireman on my caller ID. I laugh as I hadn’t changed Zebb’s name so he must have done it.


Tags: L.B. Dunbar Romance