“All right, then. Let’s go draw up a plan of attack.”
CHAPTER 15
Paxton
I’ve never beenthis tired in my life. Not even back when I was playing ball, after hours of practice followed by hours of studying. I’m fucking exhausted right down to my bones, down to my soul.
I never did like sitting in meetings. Here I was, thinking being the boss meant having control over my fate. Like I could do things my way. First on the agenda: no soul-sucking meetings.
The thing is, no CEO works in a vacuum. And like it or not, sometimes people need to spend a little face-to-face time. I’ve never been a micromanager, but some people are stuck in old ways of doing things. Meaning what could easily have been an email has to turn into a meeting.
And I’ve been in them all week. Every single day. For hours.
It’s exhausting, having to be mentally sharp nonstop for a bunch of stupid questions that don’t need to be asked. That’s another thing; it’s like people are so excited to talk to me, they’ll ask anything, just to do it.
They say there’s no such thing as a stupid question, but I beg to differ. I think most questions are stupid and unnecessary.
At least the subject of unions never came up. It’s got to be some kind of a miracle. Even John hasn’t been on my case about it since that call from Mark and Dan last week. No more calls from Paul Morrison at the warehouse. No rumors, nothing from any of our other locations. I’ve kept my ear to the ground, too. It’s like it just stopped, all chatter.
Did Hazel give up already?
Doesn’t seem like her, but it would be nice. Maybe I can get some small tweaks made to things out there. Something that might make them all a little happier going into the holiday season. Throw a pizza party or some shit, add a few minutes to bathroom breaks, something under the radar of the board.
I’d much prefer I had unilateral control and could just say, hey, fuck the bracelets, monitor the robots better, and give people time to take a piss, and be done with it.
The fact that I even have to think that way doesn’t exactly thrill me, but that’s where I am now. Caught between the responsibilities of running my company and a woman whose face haunts me constantly since the last time I saw her. Thousands of people and untold billions of dollars, versus one woman.
Instead of slumping in my chair, still wrung out after putting on my game face for so many people this week, I head over to John’s office. Knowing him, he’ll be out of the building the second he sees a clear path. If I wait ten more minutes, he’ll be out of here for sure.
Big surprise, he’s in the middle of putting his coat on.
At the sight of me coming down the hall, he holds up a palm and refuses to look at me. “No! Just no!”
“Aww, don’t be like that, baby.” I use my best seductive voice on him.
He plays right into it. “I can’t. You know we shouldn’t.” He uses the same voice I just used, like us talking would beforbidden. Quickly, he’s back to normal though. “Hell week is over. I’m numbered out, meeting’d out, and I’m going home to pass the fuck out.”
“What’s the deal?”
“What?” He won’t even look at me.
“Meetings were all good. Too good. A certain problem was never brought up once.” I stare at him.
As usual, there’s no need for him to ask what I’m talking about. We know each other too well for that. “Told you it’s under control, ho. Let me have my weekend now.”
“No. What you’ve told me all week is, there haven’t been any more signs of trouble.”
He snickers, dismissive. “Same shit.”
“Not exactly. Just because there’s no sign of the rebels, doesn’t mean they’re not coordinating an attack.”
“Star Wars, you must be really worried. You think we’re the empire?” He cants his head to the side.
“Of course we are.”
He snickers. “Yeah, I guess that’d be correct. Anyway, there’s no rebellion. Relax.”
“I don’t believe you.”