Page 110 of Kicks
“Don’t worry,” Brad replied. “I’ll go and write my resignation letter now.”
“That’s a big decision to make in anger,” James said.
For the first time, Brad glared at Eddie. His eyes were almost aflame with malice.
“I’m not working a day for him. He’s pathetic.”
“If that’s how you feel then I think that’s probably for the best,” Eddie said, suddenly finding his voice. “Please accept it, James.”
“Very well.”
Brad took one last look at the pair of them and stormed out of the room. James slowly sat back down.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“I’m flabbergasted,” Eddie replied. “I’ve got a letter of my own in there.”
“Did you really think I would give it to him?”
“James!”
“Ah, I’m leaving. I can say what I like,” James said, waving him away. “It’s always been yours to lose, Eddie.”
“What about the Webster deal?”
James smiled. “That’s what clinched it for you. There’s more to managing a department than targets and the bottom line. You showed that your humanity took precedence. That’s exactly what I would have done. You’ve been ready to fill my shoes for a year now. I needed you to realise that.”
The enormity of the last few minutes dawned on him.
“Fuck,” Eddie said. “I’m a professional now.”
“Is anyone home?” Eddie called.
He dumped his bag down in the hallway. He frowned at it. Now he was the head of sales, maybe a furry Chewbacca rucksack wasn’t the image he should be aspiring to.
Maybe he would go shopping with his first improved paycheque.
The flat lay silent. When he’d finally got away from his team, who had spent the whole day rejoicing, he’d looked for Tyler and Scott and found no trace.
He pushed open the lounge door and almost leapt out of his skin. Two party poppers were fired in his face.
“Congratulations,” Scott and Tyler yelled in unison.
The room was festooned with banners. Scott held up a bottle of champagne.
“You two are amazing,” Eddie said.
“Come in,” Tyler said. “Sit down.”
He’d managed to email them both with the outcome but hadn’t had a chance for much more.
“I can’t believe I didn’t get to walk Brad out,” Scott grumbled. “Cocky fucker.”
“He walked himself out,” Tyler replied.
To be exact, Brad had thrown a letter at James and run out of the office like a missile. Kat had watched him storm all the way out of the industrial estate. Once he’d disappeared from view, she’d turned from the window and let out a cheer.
He’d thought that to be unnecessary.
