Total pages in book: 60
Estimated words: 61939 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 310(@200wpm)___ 248(@250wpm)___ 206(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 61939 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 310(@200wpm)___ 248(@250wpm)___ 206(@300wpm)
“Wait a minute.” Lisa looked between us. “Harrison Cross like—billionaire Harrison Cross?”
“I’m assuming he’s wealthy if he could afford to buy it outright,” I said. “Why?”
“You need to quit.” Her voice was flat. “Now.”
“I can’t just quit, Lisa. I have bills.”
“Write IOU letters and be late paying them,” she said. “Quit.”
“You worked for him before or something?”
“No.” She scoffed, pulling out her phone. “But anyone who’s ever worked for him has never had anything good to say.”
“Mr. Lewis had his fair share of detractors, too,” I said. “People thought he was senile.”
“Did Mr. Lewis ever have an entry in the dictionary dedicated just to him?”
She thrust her phone to me before I could answer.
On her screen, an image of him in a tailored suit and that same smug smile stared at me above the words “The Harrison Cross Effect.”
(Noun.)
A pattern of events that includes the ruthless acquiring of businesses, massive staff reorganization (including high percentage layoffs), and establishing a new work culture. Typically associated with billionaire business mogul Harrison A. Cross.
See: 1,097 articles on lists of business dealings that span over a decade.
“Oh my god…” My heart slammed against my ribs again.
“He’s like the Satan of the business world,” Lisa said. “This guy insulted him once, so he bought the building where the guy did business and ended his lease. Then he boarded it up and turned it into a hot dog stand.”
“You’re exaggerating.” I shook my head. “No one would ever…” I bit my tongue as she clicked on the article.
“The school is looking for office managers,” Everly offered. “Oh, or maybe I can write to the scholarship committee and see if they have jobs in admissions, too?”
“Yeah.” Lisa nodded. “Do that. You could probably float for a few weeks until you get on somewhere else.”
“Yeah, maybe.” I faked a smile.
I couldn’t float for a day without a job; couldn’t miss a single hour of work. I still didn’t have the heart to tell Everly that her scholarship offer letter was fake. I was the one paying for her nursing school tuition, and although it nearly broke me, I wouldn’t have it any other way.
She deserved to chase her dreams debt-free; mine could wait.
As the two of them listed out other places I could try, I swiped on Lisa’s phone, scrolling through a never-ending photo album of houses, yachts, and condos that Harrison Cross owned.
Must be nice.
“I could at least try to reason with him and give him a chance,” I said, looking up. “Maybe tell him I was supposed to be an executive before he bought everything, and maybe he’ll honor that?”
“Yeah, okay.” Lisa stood up. “Just keep clicking through everything that pops up about this man, and let me know if you still feel that way when we get home.”
Everly’s pager beeped, and she pulled me into a hug.
“Gotta go,” she said. “Call our desk, please. And then try another coffee house.”
I nodded as she rushed away.
Lisa looped her hand in mine, leading me to the parking garage.
I kept my head buried in the screen as she drove, my stomach sinking with every word I read.
The more I uncovered, the more it seemed unfair to compare him to Satan. At least Satan tried to offer you something in exchange for your soul.
Harrison Cross set the price—whether you liked it or not—and walked away with it.
FIVE
HARRISON
Day #0.5 of the Company Takeover
“Why are we stalking Starbucks tonight instead of getting ready for your first day at the office?” Aaron asked from the passenger seat.
“Because I want to take a good look at the competition.”
“It’s closing hours, Harrison,” he said. “There’s nothing to see.”
“There’s plenty if you pay attention.” I gestured for him to look out the window, to focus on what was happening across the street. “Look.”
“Oh. Okay.” He leaned back and started a new zombie game on his phone.
“We need to watch everything that they’re doing,” I said, “and then we’ll compare it to what the employees do when we go to our cafe an hour from now.”
“Our cafe?” Ciara scoffed from the backseat.
“Yes. Our cafe, Ciara.” I hesitated to look at her through the rearview mirror.
Her notebook was splayed open in her lap, full of doodles instead of notes. Even though she’d long served as a pain in my ass, she was one of the few people I could actually trust.
She could also run research better than any specialist I’d ever employed, and I couldn’t fire her if I wanted to. Even if she blatantly tempted me to do that at least ten times a year.
“If Aaron is going to sit here and play games,” I said, “you could join me in watching.”
“What am I supposed to be looking for, Harrison?” She waved her hand at the window. “Two baristas wiping down chairs and tables? Taking out trash?”