Page 30 of Razor
He waved his hand, brushing away her words. “I’m your boss. I can get rid of you whenever I want. Now is that time. I’ll call accounting myself to make sure your final paycheck is docked for your incompetence. Now, go.”
To her dismay, Honey felt tears prickle against her eyelids. She wasn’t going to let him see her cry. “I will be glad to hire a lawyer if you mess with my paycheck. I have no doubt a judge will understand what’s going on here.”
Al stared her down, expecting her to crumple and show weakness. Honey locked her knees that threatened to buckle and met his gaze head-on. A couple of minutes crawled by—each second seeming like an eternity.
“Fine,” he shouted, throwing his hands into the air. “I won’t lower your pay.”
“And you’ll pay my accumulated comp and vacation time as well as….” Honey tried to think fast to come up with an amount to demand. “A five-thousand-dollar severance package.”
“Why in the fuck would I do that?” Al’s glare alone could have killed her. The anger in his voice scared her, but Honey wouldn’t let the unpleasantness keep her from what she deserved.
“Because I am the only one who can do virtually everything around here. You’re going to have questions and need to contact me for assistance. The settlement will ensure I answer my phone during office hours for two weeks.”
He scoffed at her, looking at her like she was a lunatic. “What would I need your help for?”
“What’s the password for the supply company in China?” Honey asked.
“I have that written down somewhere…,” he said, almost sounding confident.
“I change it every month. Along with the other passwords,” Honey said quietly. “Do you remember the name of the supply company in Thailand? Its CEO?”
She knew he didn’t. Al wasn’t good with details. Honey provided all of those for him before calls or after screening his emails.
“Any notes you have are company property,” he said, avoiding answering.
“Of course. Do you agree to my terms?” she asked, refocusing him.
“I do not. You’re just a secretary. I’ll replace you with someone from the packing line this afternoon,” he sneered.
Honey locked her muscles to prevent herself from shaking her head. Her boss had no idea what she did. Honey had completed night courses in a variety of business topics. She’d paid for them herself to improve her skills. Then, she’d gotten sick, and doing more than her eight-to-five job became impossible.
Struggling to maintain her usually ironclad control in place, Honey paused for a second to compose herself and to make sure her expression didn’t reveal her hate for Mr. Reynolds. Unfortunately, she’d had a lot of practice over the years, so it came to her as second nature.
“I’ll go grab my purse and return my computer. You have my number if you wish to enact that severance package,” she told him. Honey hated the slight warble in her voice. She didn’t want him to think he’d gotten to her.
She concentrated on shifting her muscles smoothly as she walked out of his office. Her toe caught as she passed through the door, but she caught herself on the doorframe and continued as if nothing had happened. Please don’t let me trip again.
“You move slower than a turtle. Get out of my sight,” he bellowed and then mumbled under his breath, “A fucking severance package. Over my dead body.”
Right then, Honey was okay with that last part happening. She pitied whoever he decided could take over as his secretary. Al Reynolds didn’t have administrative assistants. According to him, that made someone who filed and typed sound too important.
When she reached her desk, Honey grabbed her purse and stuffed her few personal possessions inside—a coffee cup decorated with bees, a tube of lip balm, and hand lotion. She didn’t have much, thank goodness. She’d never made this home. It was a job only. Leaving the papers and memos exactly where they were, Honey figured whoever replaced her could keep or toss everything.
The dying plant a coworker had given her a few weeks ago for her birthday went in the trash. She didn’t have enough hands to carry it and her computer. Sitting down, she pulled out the bottom drawer and grabbed the lunch Razor had packed for her. Before powering off her computer, she sent a brief message to HR, attaching her copious documentation of her boss’s poor management and vindictive pay practices.
“Leave now, Honey,” her boss bellowed.
Honey pushed herself to her feet and lifted her computer from the battered desk. The older laptop was heavy and cumbersome. She hugged it to her chest as she gathered her things.
The prickling sensation between her shoulder blades told Honey her boss spied on her from his door. She stepped away from her desk and headed for the corridor. A heavy sigh gusted from her lips when she escaped from his sight. Honey shifted closer to the wall and pressed her elbow against it for support as she strolled as casually as possible to the small administrative office where the secretary stored the extra or broken computers.
“Hi, Honey! I don’t get to see you often. Don’t tell me your computer isn’t running,” Eileen said cheerfully.
“Hi. No, it still works. Mr. Reynolds sent me down to turn it in,” Honey explained. She mentally crossed her fingers she could get out of here without Eileen figuring out that Al had fired her. She was both embarrassed and mad. The two emotions threatened to make her cry. Honey didn’t want to break down.
“Turn it in?” the woman echoed. Her smile faded as if she realized something was wrong.
The kind employee’s expression almost made her cry. “Yes, Eileen.” Honey placed her computer on a stack of files on Eileen’s desk. “Thank you. Have a good day.”
