Page 14 of Dad's Best Friend Boss
“Good morning, Henry,” Adrianna greets me with her usual fawning voice as soon as I enter the glass door to Hudson Investments.
“Morning, Adrianna,” I say, frowning a bit. She’s been taking the liberty to address me by my first name quite often. I don’t correct her because a few other employees are within earshot. But I make a mental note to remind her later.
She’s on her way to the kitchen area with her mug in hand. The smirk on her face and the animated tune she’s humming makes me wonder what she’s up to.
I’m surprised when I see Mila’s empty cubicle. It is two minutes past eight, but she has the habit of arriving a few minutes early.
I sit down at my desk and wake up the computer. And then I go over the emails.
I haven’t gone through one email when Adrianna knocks on my open door. “Coffee, Henry?”
I pause. “Sure, thanks.” Making coffee for me isn’t any of my employees’ duties, but Adrianna volunteers it often. Mila, on the other hand, has been reluctant to do it.
Again, I glance at her cubicle through the glass wall. Still empty.
When Adrianna returns with the coffee, I ask her, “Did Mila call in sick?”
Adrianna pauses. “No, she hasn’t. But she didn’t look well yesterday, so I wouldn’t be surprised if she were sick. Want me to call her?”
“No,” I say. “I’ll do it myself.”
She presses her lips together. “Come on Henry. You’re the boss. Don’t trouble yourself with trifles. I’ll handle it.”
What the hell? I’m so annoyed I blurt out my response. “First of all, Adrianna, you’re supposed to call me boss or by my last name at work. The first name basis is for after work. Secondly, I’m the boss here, and I get to decide what’s trivial and what’s not. I can call my employees if I wish.”
Her smile fades and she composes herself. “I’m sorry, Hen…I mean Mr. Hudson. I’d better get back to work,” she says and hurries out of my office.
I dial Mila’s number as soon as the door closes. After a few rings, I give up and text her.
Where are you and why aren’t you at work? Is everything okay?
I then stare at the phone and wait for it to beep. Not until minutes later, during which I burned my tongue with the hot coffee Adrianna brought me, her text arrives.
Sorry. I’m not coming in today.
What the hell?I put the cup down on the desk with such force that the coffee spills. Muttering a curse, I type.
What’s wrong? Are you sick?
I’m not. But I need a day off.
That’s unexpected. She’s been enthusiastic about Smith’s project and has just started. When I last saw her yesterday, she was all excited about working on the designs. She might have been overworked in the past few days.
Okay. Get some rest. I’ll see you tomorrow.
She doesn’t answer after that and it worries me. Something feels off. Adrianna says Mila looked sick yesterday, but she herself denies it. If Mila were really sick, why wouldn’t she tell me what it was?
I stand up from my chair and grab my jacket and my car key.
“Where’re you going?” Adrianna asks when I rush past her desk.
I roll my eyes but do not answer her question.
I drive across town to John’s house. It’s a charming Craftsman with a neatly trimmed front yard, and I’ve always enjoyed visiting here. It used to be messier and cozier when Mila was little because the yard would be scattered with toys.
I open the fence gate and enter the yard. John is overseeing the construction in Orange County, and is staying there for the week. So Mila should be home alone.
On my way to the porch, I notice newly planted flowers here and there. Mila must’ve planted them. I smile. During the years when John lived alone, he got rid of many rose bushes his wife had grown because he didn’t have the time to take care of them.
