Page 7 of No Such Thing as Serendipity
I returned to the email and added:I have removed some personal effects from my office. Nancy will pack the rest and have them shipped to me.
Before I hit send, I glanced around my office, realizing I’d better gather my things first. I snatched my leather Von Baer bag from under my desk and removed the files I’d been working on. As I plopped them on my desk, it gave me satisfaction when the folders splayed across the top.
I picked up the only picture on my desk and shoved it into my bag, unable to look at it right now. The remaining stuff Nancy could send or throw in the trash as far as I was concerned. If it wasn’t for Nancy having to pick it up, I would sweep everything onto the floor.
I snorted. Didn’t they usually have security or HR present when someone packed up their desk? Had Terrence wanted to save me from humiliation, or did he know I was incapable of doing the horrible things rushing through my mind?
In protest, I kicked over my garbage can. It wasn’t all that impressive since someone had emptied it last night.
Enough.I needed to finish and get the hell out of here, so I unplugged my lamp. The annoying dot of light from the imperfect blinds flooded my office.Good.Whoever occupied it next would have to deal with the annoyance. Carefully, I wrapped the cord around the stem of the lamp. Finally, I opened the side desk drawer and removed my Moleskine notebook.
With my picture and notebook secured in my bag, I stood and slung it over my shoulder before picking up my lamp.
I hit send on the email to Terrence and left the office.
CHAPTER 4
I rubbed my templeand leaned back in my home office desk chair. I’d been staring at my computer for way too long. It was late Friday afternoon, two days AF. The double meaning gave me some satisfaction.After firingoras fuck.I was still angry as fuck.
Since I’d returned home Wednesday morning, I’d spent nearly all my time here researching and weighing my options. My banker’s lamp blazed on the corner of my desk, but I’d been too busy to unpack the rest of my bag.
Right.Because retrieving the picture and notebook would take so long. I glanced at the floor where my bag lay.Nope.I wasn’t ready yet.
I’d been forced to contact Terrence to determine when he’d make the sale of Fortitude and my departure public. He’d said mid-June, though I figured speculation had already begun. The headhunters shouldn’t come knocking on my proverbial door until it was official.
Yeah, the vultures played by the rules. Still, most wouldn’t risk the legal repercussions or the risk to their reputations. At least, the semi-scrupulous ones wouldn’t. I’d already decided anyone who reached out beforehand would automatically go in my no pile.
Since I’d been with Fortitude for so long, I knew all the popular equity firms, but I’d known them as competitors, not potential employers. I’d created a spreadsheet to help me make an informed decision. While doing my research, I’d fallen down several rabbit holes as I dug for information. Some of it surprised me. While Fortitude wasn’t perfect, the business practices and treatment of employees at some of the other firms shocked me. It all resided in my spreadsheet now. With all the information I’d compiled, I could become a consultant and sell this shit.
At least I had the luxury of taking my time after Fortitude’s severance pay. Perhaps I should thank Terrence, but he didn’t deserve my appreciation, so he wouldn’t get it. To give myself sick satisfaction, I’d adopted the phraseyou’re dead to mewhenever I thought of Terrence. Father figure and mentor one day to this. How far he’d fallen.
I was jolted out of my reverie when I heard my name being called.Shit.Who was in my apartment? I glanced at the date on my computer. Friday. Marcia cleaned on Tuesdays.
“Hey, where are you?” I heard more clearly and recognized my sister, Emma’s, voice.
Fuck.It was the last Friday of the month—our standing sister time. How had I forgotten? The last person I wanted to deal with was Emma. I glanced around the office in a panic. Before I could stand to greet her, or more accurately head her off, she burst into the room.
I didn’t see her because an enormous balloon bouquet engulfed her. A balloon, at least three feet in diameter, anchoredthe bunch and hadcongratulationsscrawled across it. The word was like a flashing neon sign announcing my humiliation.
Emma peeked around the balloon and gasped when she saw me.
“Uh, hi.” It was the best I could do.
Her eyes widened. She stared at me for several seconds before she glanced around the room.Shit.I didn’t know which looked worse—me or my office. Since I hadn’t looked at myself for a couple of days, I couldn’t be certain.
Recovering from her stupor, she asked, “What the hell is going on?”
I pointed at my computer. “I’m working on a project.”
“Dressed like that?” Her gaze traveled from my head to toe and back again.
“Uh.” I looked down at my black sports bra, bare stomach, and black underwear. “What? I match.”
She glanced at my desk lamp before she said, “It’s like a dungeon in here.” She untangled herself from the balloons and set them on my low bookcase. As she moved toward the window, she shook her head and muttered. “A Bikram dungeon.”
“I doubt if they do yoga in dungeons. Besides, I was cold.”
“No shit. Dressed like that, who wouldn’t be?” She pulled the cord on the blinds, letting the waning sunlight flood in.
