Page 85 of A Fae in Finance
I stared at my computer screen. The poor girl. “Give her a chance,” I said.
“Fine. I’ll give her a task to work on under you.”
My stomach dropped. This was a suboptimal outcome.
“Don’t you think it would be better if she worked with someone in the office?”
“No,” he said, and hung up.
I sighed and sent her a quick email.
Hi Kayla, Jeff might be sending us a project to work through together. Let me know if you want to chat about it.
A few minutes later, the email came in from Jeff, titledValuation.
Kayla, Miri, research six competitors for the Faerie Trade Goods endeavor and value each of them. Will expect your analysis as soon as possible.
I groaned and called Kayla.
“Hi?” she said.
“It’s Miri. Let’s talk about Jeff’s email,” I said. “Have you ever done a valuation before?”
Someone knocked on my door. I glanced at it.
“No, I’ve never done a valuation, but I’m excited to learn!” She sounded too chipper.
I stood up and went to my door. “Okay, give me a second,” I said, and went on mute. I opened the door. The Gray Knight was outside.
I felt a flash of rage: She’d told people we’d lain together. “Yes?” I said.
“We need to go over the model now.”
“One second.” I went off mute and said, “Kayla, I need to hang up. Look through some old valuations on our server and see what you can learn. I’ll reach back out as soon as I’m done.”
She started talking, but I hung up on her midsentence. I stepped back and let the Gray Knight in.
“Are you working on another deal?” the Gray Knight asked. Something flashed in her eyes.
“No,” I said. “We’re looking up some comparable transactions for the faerie deal.”
She pulled out her acorn and sized it up to a chair again. Doctor Kitten hopped up onto the windowsill and stared at her, his tail flicking. I sat in my own chair.
“Did something happen with the model?” I asked.
She shook her head. “We just need to update it and send it out to buyers today.”
“Today?” I frowned. “We haven’t even finished the presentation—”
“Yes, I edited that last night. We will be ready to send it out with the model in a few hours.”
“I think I need to tell Jeff,” I said.
She shrugged. “The Princeling has sent him an email.”
I checked my own email. Nothing had come through. But I reopened the model and sized it up to fill the screen.
She pulled a crinkled piece of paper from some pocket, full of incomprehensible scribbles. “These are our new assumptions for expenses,” she said. “Your human values were far too high. We can reduce many of the costs in the model, because the Builder can create the equipment more efficiently and for far less money.”
