Page 3 of Faking It With My New Boss

Vanessa looked so disappointed I almost changed my mind, but I just wasn’t feeling going out that night. I was just settling into my new place and I needed some time to wrap my head around it. All the sudden changes in my life were exciting and I couldn’t wait to see where they would lead me. But they were also overwhelming. I needed to do this one step at a time.

Chapter Two

Bryan

The elevator rose to the second from the top floor and I took a deep breath.

This was it. This was the beginning of my new job, my new career and my new direction in life.

Yay.

I tried, really tried, to be excited, but I just couldn’t force the feeling. It was what I was raised to do, and clearly I knew enough about the business since I literally grew up in it, but hospitality and fine dining restaurants were not exactly my speed. That didn’t mean I had much of a choice. Not after Dad died.

I had always had a role in the company. From the time I was a kid, I had some kind of job, something to make a little cash of my own that didn’t have to come from the trust fund. Something a little less traceable by my parents. It had been fun, being a big shot while still being a pool boy or front desk manager or whatever job they needed to be filled at the premier hotel just outside of DC that I could do with a little training and a lot of pressure.

The jobs came naturally to me, so that was good. I was always a hard worker, and took the opportunity to find ways to make the jobs I was doing more efficient while I was doing them. It didn’t win me a lot of friends sometimes when I pointed out how many extra people we had doing jobs or how people found ways to waste time that I could eliminate. But I was good at them, and kind of floated my way through the company until I was an adult and they put me in the offices.

There were letters in front of my name, but I didn’t pay much attention to them for a long time. I didn’t care. As long as I came to work, was visible, and hung out in Dad’s office while he bitched about whatever thing it was that bugged him, it was assumed I was just soaking everything up so I could be next in line. Grandpa had retired and Dad had taken over and one day that would happen with me too.

Then Dad died.

It was unexpected and unfortunate. Grandpa immediately resumed being in charge, but as an octogenarian, promised the board and the investors that he would pass along the company to me. I just had to prove myself first. Part of that was today, just weeks since my father’s burial, as I came back into the offices for the first time and met with my Grandpa’s top guys on the board. Grandpa was still the majority owner, by a large margin, and his say went, but he was pretty adamant about me having a good relationship with the rest of the board.

The door opened and I exhaled. Here we go.

“I’m sorry for your loss.”

“I’m sorry for your loss.”

“I’m so sorry for your loss.”

Every person that came up to me either said it verbatim or had a little twist, but the sentiment was the same. Everybody was sorry for my loss. I felt bad. I should be sorry for my loss too. He was my father. He was, by all accounts, a decent man. He just wasn’t a big part of my everyday life growing up. It wasn’t until I was an adult and spent time listening to him ramble about the business, that I spent any time with him. By then, our relationship was far more like colleagues than father and son. We didn’t spend holidays together except Christmas. We didn’t have things to talk about other than the business. We just weren’t close.

Finally making it past all the lined-up ass-kissers who wanted to make sure they got their pouting faces in front of me to apologize for my loss, I got to the heavy wooden doors of the chairman’s office. It was technically the secondary office of my grandfather at the moment. My father’s office, on the top floor, was also his office in his temporary role as CEO again. That office would theoretically be mine after this meeting.

Supposing it went well.

“Bryan, good to see you,” said the old man standing up from behind the ornate wooden desk by the window. He was tall, taller than I was, but lanky and ancient. Spots on his forehead where hair should have been told me he wasn’t particularly in good health, but he seemed spry anyway. He also had a smile like a shark that had missed several meals.

I took his hand and shook it and he patted me on the back.

“I am so sorry for your loss, son,” he said.

Only two people in the world called me “son”. Grandpa and William Hicks. The largest minority shareholder in the company and Grandpa’s closest advisor.

“Thanks, Mr. Hicks,” I said.

“Oh, Bryan, you are a man now. And CEO. You can call me as your grandfather called me. I prefer it,” he said.

“Okay, Billy,” I said. The words felt dirty in my mouth. Calling a man who looked like he was older than God himself “Billy” just seemed wrong on a molecular level.

“Very good,” Billy said and headed back to the table. “I would like to talk to you about expectations today, Bryan.”

“Sure,” I said, sitting down on one of the expensive leather chairs across from the desk. Billy’s eyes caught mine as I looked at the desk and then him, then to the picture of my Grandfather on the wall. It was subtle, but it was good to remind him that I knew full well he didn’t actually belong in that seat. He was just occupying it.

Billy folded his hands together, fingers interlaced, and leaned forward on the table. The diamonds in his cufflinks reflected light from the sun at me and I temporarily wished I had worn the sunglasses inside. There was a premium put on natural light in the offices, and this room was a shrine to it. Dad’s office was even more so.

Not Dad’s office.My office.

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