he’s fired. If anything, we’ll put out a public statement and start backing a movement for employees to have a platform to speak out against their hotheaded managers.”
“I’d like to see that happen. Managers take advantage of their positions too easily. I’ve seen management-level pricks lording themselves over employees too often. It’s fucked up.”
“Since that’s all out of the way,” he slid the note over to me, “you can give this back to Avery.” He stood up. “And now that you’re in full-blown dick-mode, we can go deal with the groups that dropped the ball this weekend.”
I left the bullshit of this guy, Tyler Matthews, in Alex’s hands. I didn’t have time for it, and quite honestly, Alex ran this company arm-in-arm with me. I had nothing to flare up over, but it was disturbing to know that there were those in my company who had verbally abused others.
Everyone but Alex and I sat at the boardroom table, the lights dimmed, watching a ridiculous 1980s instructional video. The cold air blew on my neck where I stood at the back of the room, arms crossed and watching each employee who’d pissed me off this weekend. They sat like mannequins, watching this stupid thing. It was seriously some kind of show that came out of a business education class in middle school.
“Why the fuck are we watching this goddamn nightmare?” Alex leaned over and whispered into my ear.
“You’ll see,” I said after the video ended, and the lights slowly brightened.
I walked to the front of the room and stood at the head of the table in front of the fourteen people who’d had a part in fucking up Palm Springs.
“I believe I can read all of your minds at the moment,” I said, eying the group of young and old men and women trying to maintain their composure. “Why in the world,” I said dramatically, “would Mr. Mitchell waste our precious time with such a mundane and highly obtuse video. Am I correct?”
The group stared at me.
I smiled. “It’s a simple question. If you enjoyed the video, by all means, take it home as a gift from me to you. If you found it to be a waste of your time,” I held onto that word, “then you’ll easily understand how I felt when I was doing all of your jobs this weekend.” I grew more solemn, ensuring I eyed each individual. “We all are tasked with a job in this company. Each one of you at this table is accountable for that job. However, apparently I failed to get the entire team’s memo that we clocked out on one of the largest conferences of the year.”
“Mr. Mitchell,” Gary, one of my PR heads, spoke up, “we had no idea about half of what happened, or that Jen was sending all the calls to you.”
I narrowed my eyes at the man. “I so wish I loved hearing excuses. It would make my life so much easier. Unfortunately for you all, I despise them. I like solutions, Mr. Maldonado. So instead of trying to excuse the fact that none of you knew that multiple groups were bailing out on us last minute, leaving me all but vacuuming the banquet hall for the event, I want solutions for why it won’t happen again. Why my time won’t be wasted again,” I pointed at the screen behind me, “as I just wasted thirty minutes of your precious time. Solutions,” I said, eying him and then the rest of the room. “Do I need to bring in the solutions department to educate you all? You, one of my most-trusted groups of associates, who Alex and I depend on greatly for hosting these events?”
“No, sir,” some said.
My God, I sounded just like my father. I hated having to rip into my teams, but I couldn’t let any of this slide. No fucking way. I might’ve sounded like my father, but they had behaved like children. Give them an inch, and they’ll take a mile? Truer words have never been spoken.
“Now, we have an expo coming up in six months,” I said. “I have to be able to depend on all of you up until the last piece of trash is picked up off the floor. The expo will yield one of our highest investment opportunities yet. The media will be there, and many journalists as well. This event cannot fall on my or Alex’s shoulders when things start falling apart. All of you are getting paid