Page 59 of Simply Irresistible
“Wrong,” I said, pulling my cell phone from my pocket. I tapped the screen and held the phone to my ear.
Roger picked up his desk phone. “Yeah I need security to YTM, suite two-one-one.”
When my call connected, my eyes seared Roger’s. “Preston, we need to talk.”
***
“I can’t believe he was such a shit to you, and you didn’t say anything,” Hannah said, retrieving three Modelos from the refrigerator and popping the tops. She gave one to me and one to Preston before nestling in beside him on the couch with her own bottle of beer. It was Taco Tuesday, and Hannah was nothing if not consistent in her themes. Taco night meant Mexican beer.
“You know how I feel about nepotism,” I said, taking a long pull from my bottle.
“Nepotism has nothing to do with it. It’s about human decency. Anyone else would have filed a complaint with Human Resources. You should have said something. It infuriates me that he got away with so much.”
“He didn’t get away with that much, babe,” Preston said.
“He treated Tyler like shit.”
“He treated everyone like shit,” I said. “I was just the person who was in contact with him the most.”
“Doesn’t make it right. And he was taking your idea…” she trailed off, making a face.
“He was on his last leg and he knew it,” Preston said. “He was set to present a new idea to me tomorrow morning. Had he come to me with that grilling column, I would have known exactly where it came from and had he not given credit where credit was due, I would have fired him on the spot.”
“Well at least it didn’t have to come to that,” Hannah said.
“I would have rather it came to that then the shit show this afternoon,” Preston said, referring to what had happened once Roger realized who I had called.
“Preston? Preston Parks? What are you, a fucking narc?”
Roger didn’t realize I hadn’t hung up on Preston, I just changed my cell phone to speaker. He could hear everything he said.
“Have you been telling him everything? Did you run crying to him when I turned down your column idea? You don’t know shit. You’re a kid. What the hell do you know? You think you can write that column? You think you can grill?”
“I think I alreadydidwrite that column, and IknowI can grill. I have a journalism degree, dickhead. I’m notjustan executive assistant. And fuck you for undervaluing that position. Administrative support staff are some of the most valuable members of an organization. They’re also some of the most powerful ones.”
“Yeah...because they have the boss on speed dial.”
“Roger,” Preston said, walking in the office and taking in the mess of glass by the door.
I winced, really noticing the pile of glass for the first time. I should have been more careful, but I hadn’t been thinking at the time.
“Should I come back later?” We all turned toward the doorway where Nervous Guy was standing.
“Who the fuck are you?” Roger asked.
Preston glared at him. “Mr. Hoffstadt, I don’t think I should have to tell you not to speak to guests in my building that way.”
“I’m here for an interview.”
Preston approached him. “I apologize for the inconvenience, but any business you have here with Mr. Hoffstadt today will need to be placed on hold. Please take the elevator up to the eighteenth floor and give the receptionist, Karen, your contact information. I’ll follow up with you.” Nervous Guy was smart enough to high-tail it out of there after that, and Preston’s attention returned to Roger.
“Mr. Hoffstadt, I’m afraid your employment at Parks Publishing has come to a close. I’d appreciate it if you’d quietly pack your personal effects and leave immediately. Your final paycheck will be sent to you.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Roger spit the words out. “All because of some kid?”
Preston walked right up to Roger, causing him to take a step back. “I hold my management team to a very high standard. A standard you have been beneath for entirely too long. I tolerated your nonsense because you were producing, but now you’re not. I also do not tolerate any of my employees speaking to any of my other employees the way I have just witnessed. You’re dragging the magazine down with your rotten attitude, and I’m finished with it.”
“I’ve given this magazine five years.”
