Page 94 of The Checklist
“Dylan!” Tim’s tenor carried from across the hall as he hustled around the room. Steve and a couple of polished individuals Dylan didn’t recognize trailed behind him, cocktails in hand, jokes written on their body language.
“Hi, Tim.” Dylan waved. She turned around to face Jared, who had gone pale at the sight of Tim’s joy.
“Isn’t this just fantastic? It’s even better than what I envisioned.” Tim’s pure enthusiasm for the project had not waned. He stretched out his arms for a hug.
“It is. I’m blown away by everyone’s hard work,” Dylan said, dipping in for a quick embrace.
“I wish I were a kid just so I could experience this through their eyes.” Tim sounded choked up.
“Dylan, this is fantastic,” Steve said as he reached the small group, giving her a side squeeze. Jared squeaked and rocked back on his heels. Steve paused momentarily, but when Jared didn’t explain himself, he continued, gesturing to the man next to him. “Have you met John Kaplan?”
A big blue whale reflected back at her from a pair of wire-rimmed glasses that had fallen out of fashion roughly ten years ago. They were set atop a slightly crooked nose attached to a face with a ring of peppered gray hair around an otherwise completely bald head. The entire picture was that of a very rich, very friendly monk. Not exactly the perfectly attired, reclusive partner she had imagined.
Fighting to keep the surprise out of her tone, Dylan extended her hand. “I haven’t had the pleasure. So nice to meet you, Mr.Kaplan.”
“Pleasure is all mine. And please, call me John,” he said, flashing a set of incredibly white and uncomfortably perfect teeth. “Steve tells me you have been doing some fantastic work up here.”
“A regular one-woman force of nature.” Tim smiled, taking a sip of his drink.
“That just warms my heart. I wouldn’t expect anything less from a young lady with such exquisite taste in dresses,” said the woman standing next to John. Extending a hand to Dylan, she said, “Estelle Kaplan.” If John was the stuff of legend, his mother was the legend itself, and her neck-to-floor black beaded dress looked like it. Dylan smiled and sent a silent thank-you to Deep and her degree in fashion merchandising.
“She is always in that office hammering out idea after idea, getting Tim and me in line, despite our best efforts. Alone, no less.” Steve grinned as he said this.
Next to him, Jared made additional sputtering sounds, causing Tim to pause midsip and begin an appraisal of him that read distaste when Jared switched to heavy breathing.
“Jared, is that you?” John smiled at him as if he was just noticing the man.
After wiping his hands on his suit pants, Jared extended a meaty fist to John. “Yes, Mr.Kaplan. So good to see you again after last year’s managers’ summit. Thank you for the invitation.”
“Oh! You work at Kaplan,” Tim said, taking in Jared’s face, which was slowly transitioning from red to deep mauve. Holding out his hand, he said, “Tim Gunderson, CEO of Technocore.”
Jared’s eyes looked like a cartoon character’s, popping out of his head as Tim mentioned his name. When Jared didn’t move, Tim tried again, earnestly asking, “Are you in the Houston office?”
Jared looked like he might begin to foam at the mouth. Undeterred, Tim threw Dylan a meaningful look as if to telegraph his attempt at good social skills before saying, “Dylan’s been with us for almost two months now. Do you know her?”
Jared barked and shook his head before answering, “We’ve met.”
“You and Dylan? Of course, you—”
“No. You.”
Mother and son exchanged loaded glances; question marks creased across their foreheads.
“I don’t think so,” Tim said, taking a step back and looking concerned. “Are you all right? Need some water, maybe?”
“No ... I ... we ...” Jared grasped at strangled words before finally spitting out, “I’ve been at Technocore. Must’ve missed me.”
“I’m pretty sure I’d have seen you.” Tim looked alarmed as Jared fanned his purple face. “Let me flag down a waiter.”
“No need. I believe he is leaving,” John said, looking over at Estelle, who nodded in approval. “Just tell me before you go—how was the golf vacation? Or should I ask about the trip to Mexico? Maybe that visit to your mother’s house in Florida?”
The room shifted under Dylan’s feet, and she put a steadying hand on a nearby dining chair to make sure she didn’t topple over.The massive reports she should have written with a team. Jared’s cagey behavior. Everything clicked. Was he that stupid? Had he really gone on vacation and tried to fire her before anyone could figure him out?
“I’d never,” Jared said, the indignation in his tone bordering on ridiculous.
“Spare me. Steve called last week,” Estelle said. Her voice was barely above a whisper, but it rang with the kind of threat that only a woman who’d built a company with nothing but her wits could lay out. “The only question is exactly how we fire you. It is in your best interest to come clean. Otherwise, there will be more consequences for you than there were for Bernie Madoff.”
Shaking her head, Dylan let go of the chair so she could look Jared in the face. “I should have known.”
