Page 69 of The Checklist
Fine. Don’t forget the apartment is in my name. The locks may not be the same until we have a chance to talk.
Dylan rolled her eyes so hard it was a miracle they didn’t get stuck in the back of her head.
This feels like you are manipulating me. But, if a call is required in order for us to amicably end this relationship, I’ll give you a call tomorrow night.
Fitting her key into her office door, Dylan sighed. Was holding her things hostage even legal? If anyone would know how to make her life hell, it was the shark of a divorce attorney she lived with. She should have predicted him doing this. Had she been honest about the odds of their relationship ending, she might have.
As if the world could sense her apprehension, her desk phone began to ring. Glancing at the caller ID, she groaned asJaredscrolled across the screen. She let it ring twice more before straightening her spine and picking up the receiver.
“This is Dylan.”
“Dylan, Jared here. I left you a couple messages this morning.”
“Yes, I saw. I was just making my way through my voice mail.” Dylan fought to keep the irritation out of her tone. His clipped delivery made it sound like she had not returned his call since 3:00 p.m. last Friday, not 9:32 a.m. the same day.
“I don’t know if you have seen the trending #TechnoDisasters and #TechnoFails reports on our clients, but Technocore has scored high again. And not in a good way.”
“You know, that doesn’t surprise me. We had a rough start at the retreat, but if you dig deeper into the hashtags, you’ll see a surprise turnaround in—”
“I don’t care about the turnaround,” Jared shouted, taking her by surprise. “What I care about is results. I’m not seeing them in all of this junk.”
Dylan cleared her throat, trying to decide how best to proceed as her boss breathed heavily into the phone. There probably wasn’t a right way to talk him through this, but the alternative of crawling under her desk to wait it out seemed just as unlikely to yield positive outcomes.
“I can see why it seems that way. But share prices are holding steady, which implies investor confidence, and again, within the trending posts there is actually a change in tone—”
“I don’t need excuses. I need—no—expectresults.”
“And I think you are seeing them. It’s a real vote of confidence the board hasn’t scheduled a meeting, released a statement to shareholders, or—”
“I don’t give a shit about what the board hasn’t done. Those assholes created this mess. I want a report on the immediate outcomes of the retreat, action items okayed by Technocore management, and workforce-retention projections tomorrow. Understand?”
It took Dylan a moment to process being cursed at by a man who was almost assuredly wearing a sherbet-colored cardigan and boat shoes.
“My understanding was that you would like to be part of the review process before we start putting together some of the documents that both Kaplan and Technocore directors will need to approve.”
“For God’s sake, did I stutter?”
“No, you were quite forceful in your language. It’s just Technocore is alsoyourassignment, and I think if you were present, you would see the tenor of the workplace is rapidly improving, even with the stumbling blocks.”
“At the rate you’re going, there won’t even be a client for me to visit. Get your shit together, or get your bags, because I will fire you. Clear enough?”
Dylan’s mouth went dry. Jared had been nasty for weeks, but this was a new rock bottom. Trying to keep her voice steady, she answered, “That is a tall document order. Typically, four of us would analyze this kind of data and make a recommendation a week or so later. You do realize you’re asking for a grand total of one hundred sixty hours’ worth of work in two days? Even if I pulled an all-nighter, I wouldn’t have enough time to produce a quality product.”
“Get it together or get out,” Jared spat. “I’ll look for the documents.”
The line went dead. Dylan sat motionless until the please-hang-up-or-try-this-call-again voice spoke into her ear. Gently, she set the phone back into its cradle and looked at her closed office door to ensure no one was watching, then let several unseemly descriptors fly.
By the time she had reachedprofound dickhead, she had rage shakes. Whatever had crawled into his undies and bitten him was no excuse for cursing at a colleague. That wasn’t just bad managerial tactics; it was bad manners. For a moment she considered sending him a picture of her middle finger and storming off, but then she caught sight of Deep walking toward her desk, chatting with the socially awkward guy from Accounts Payable, and stopped short. Jared was a certifiable asshat, but he wasn’t chasing her out without a fight. Not when things were just starting to turn around.
Taking a deep breath, she opened a document to start an outline of the items he’d requested when there was a knock on her door. Tension seeping into her jaw, Dylan glanced up at Brandt’s perpetually pale face in her window. He was smiling and waving at her.
“Good morning,” Brandt said as he stepped through a miniscule crack he’d opened in the doorway, as if a thin opening made his presence less of an interruption.
“Good morning. How’s it going?” Dylan leaned back in her chair, aiming for a relaxed posture she did not feel. The specter of the world’sworst manager hung over her head like a curse, and she would be damned if even a hint of Jared’s attitude made its way into her office.
“Your hair is curly!”
Dylan laughed at the look of genuine surprise on his face as he came to stand directly in front of her desk. “Don’t tell anyone. It’s my best-kept secret.”
