Total pages in book: 166
Estimated words: 160356 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 802(@200wpm)___ 641(@250wpm)___ 535(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 160356 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 802(@200wpm)___ 641(@250wpm)___ 535(@300wpm)
“So what lucky company will have the pleasure of Camryn Moore next?” he asks, stopping me in my tracks.
“I’m not following.” I face him. Face his smarmy, smug face.
“We’ve sold up, Camryn, which means you’re out of a job.”
What?
“And it isn’t your boyfriend who bought us, but well done on your efforts to help him sabotage the deal.” He smiles wide. “Merry Christmas, Camryn.” Off he goes, an irritating, cocky swagger to his stride as he whistles his way to his office.
“Fuck,” I whisper, deflating on the spot. Out of a job. Endless days killing time. Nothing to distract myself.
Feeling like I’ve got bricks in my heels, I go back to my office and lower to my chair, staring at the screen of my computer, wondering . . . what now?
The door swings open, halting my thoughts in their tracks, and Anthony swans in, a box in his hand. He places it neatly on my desk, still smiling like a psycho. “You’re welcome,” he singsongs, turning but stopping on a theatrical, “Oh!” He pulls something out from his back pocket—a pile of papers—and slaps them on my desk. “I’ve highlighted the vacancies that I thought were a good match for your skillset.” He leaves, slamming the door so hard it shakes on its hinges. I pull the papers forward and scan the highlighted vacancies. Pot washer. Road Sweeper. Cleaner for the public toilets across various city parks. Chicken plucker.
“Prick,” I mutter, shoving the papers away and slumping back in my chair. My phone dings, and I swipe it up, softening the moment I see the message from Dec. It’s a picture of Albi in the boardroom in his policeman costume. Head of the table.
How’s your day going?
I laugh under my breath. But stop. Does Dec know he’s failed to secure the deal with TF Shipping? I contemplate asking, my thumbs hovering over the screen of my phone, but think better of it, dropping it to my desk and blowing out my exasperation. No job. What the hell am I going to do?
Pulling open the drawers on my desk, I start to empty them of my personal things, dropping it all in the box. Deflated. I failed to get TF Shipping ready for the team to come in and prepare it for debut on the market. I shouldn’t be so hard on myself. The odds were against me, but I’ve never failed. It’s a smear on my CV I don’t need.
A familiar knock sounds on the door. “Come in, Thomas,” I say tiredly, surprised once again he’s sought me out. “I suppose I should congratulate you on the sale,” I say flatly, making his eyebrows jump up. “Anthony wasn’t at all creaming his pants when he shared the news.”
Thomas rolls his eyes. “I told him I wanted to tell you.”
“A lot sure did happen while I was off for two whole days.”
“Are you feeling better?”
I toss my paperweight into the box. “Much, thanks.” I rest my palms on the edge of my desk and lean on them. “I had no idea who Dec was when I met him.” Not that it matters now, since he’s failed to buy the company. “And I know he’s told you man to man he wasn’t fishing.”
“He knew what he was doing.”
“You think he planned to . . . what? Seduce me?”
“If the boot fits.”
“It doesn’t.” I drop a pile of pens into the box. They’re not technically mine, but I have no pens and . . . fuck him. “I want a decent reference.”
“I don’t think so.” Anthony laughs, appearing behind Thomas.
It takes what little energy I have in this moment to stop myself from reacting in a wholly inappropriate manner to his apparent satisfaction. “Look,” I breathe, “Dec Ellis drove the price down because he’s a smart businessman and he made sure he knew what state your company is in and what he was purchasing. I don’t know who’s come along and bought TF Shipping, or why they have, given the financial state of it. I can only assume they haven’t done their due diligence and you haven’t been transparent, but—” But what? What am I going to do? Rat them out? Find out who’s bought TF Shipping and call them to make sure they know what they’re letting themselves in for? For what purpose? Self-satisfaction? To have the last laugh? Am I about to threaten them to get that good reference?
No. I don’t need to. Karma will do all the work. I take a breath and stand taller, reaching for my coat and pulling it on. “I hope you both have a lovely Christmas with your family.”
“Oh, we will, won’t we, Dad? We’re looking at a family holiday to Mauritius, five-star, first class.”
“Maybe don’t put that on the company card,” I quip, smiling sweetly as I claim my box of things. Thomas moves to allow me past, but Anthony does not, meaning I have to shuffle by carefully so there’s no contact. He makes my skin crawl.