Page 3 of Year-End Bonus
By tonight, I will be freshly waxed, pedicured, and ready to have my body ravaged by three sex gods.
I must have been a very good girl this year.
Chapter two
Paul
"Hi, Mr. Ludlow."
The voice is so close to my ear that I jump back slightly. When I turn to see the owner of the hot breath that made my skin crawl, a floppy piece of mistletoe whacks me on the bridge of my nose.
"Ah, hello, Ms. Johnson," I say, trying to keep the annoyance off my face.
The edges of the plastic leaves are sharp, and the white pom-pom balls, meant to represent the buds, droop to one side. It doesn't hurt, but I'm still not pleased about being assaulted withit. The worst part of the situation is that it's affixed to Mindy Johnson's headband.
Mindy's breasts threaten to spill out of the low-cut top she's chosen for the party. She works in sales and is tenacious and goal-driven, consistently landing in the top twenty percent of our force. But she’s also the reason we had to establish an office dress code.
Apparently, holiday parties don't count under the new policy. A technical oversight that will be corrected next year.
I place my hands in my pockets and watch with irritation as she attempts to lean over the punch bowl, while keeping her eyes trained on me.
"Yum. I love punch." She takes another sip from her cup and performs a playful little shimmy, triggering a fierce competition between the mistletoe and her cleavage to see which one will trigger a wardrobe malfunction first.
I'm not sure how to respond at this point. I don't like parties on an average day, and tonight is overstimulation for me, what with people wanting to connect at the end of the year. I would rather remove my own fingernails than entertain Mindy's advances, but HR has asked me to "try to make people think you're glad they work here," so I grit my teeth and nod once.
It’s literally the best I can do.
As Mindy prattles on, I look around for the rest of the C-suite executives, who also happen to be my best friends. The party is in full swing on the large main floor of our office space, which features an open second floor accessible by a grand staircase. Mark, Hunter, and my offices are all on the second floor, primarily for the peace and privacy required by some of our larger clients. We’re the founders and owners of EcoStarTech, a multi-billion-dollar tech company in the city. We've been friends since the eighth grade, and those two are like my brothers.
Where the hell are they?Mark and Hunter are much better at all this mingling shit than I am.
"Excuse me, Ms. Johnson. I need to go."
Mindy stares at me in shock, and I briefly wonder what she was saying when I interrupted.
I turn on my heel abruptly and ascend the staircase to the second floor. Tapping lightly on Hunter's door, I find the guys huddled over a piece of paper.
"You need to get down there. We all know I’m not the best advocate of holiday cheer." I sigh heavily, sitting at the table in the corner of Hunter's office. I wouldn't say I'm a grinch at the holidays, but this year, I'm more irritable than usual.
"Later. This party is for the people. Let them enjoy it without their bosses getting in the way." Hunter turns, giving me a grin that instantly makes me suspicious.
"Did you get a different memo from HR than I did?" I grumble, wishing I hadn't wasted my time if they weren’t even going to bother showing up.
"Paul, we have something we need to talk to you about." Mark comes to join me at the table, while Hunter moves to his desk. It’s set up like a spaceship cockpit, with double-deck monitors six across, and a huge flat screen aimed at the rest of his spacious office.
Hunter is our chief technical officer, and his office is equipped with the best technology and gadgets money can buy.
Frankly, the setup gives me anxiety. I prefer a minimalist aesthetic, but he’s the genius with this stuff, not me, so he gets whatever he says he needs.
I lean back in my chair, waiting for Mark to continue, when a soft voice directly from my dreams echoes throughout the room. I whip my head toward the TV screen. My heartbeat quickens as Skylar Miller stares at me with a smile. It's a video we shot last year with our remote workers. One I’ve watched obsessively.
"I wouldn't say I prefer being alone, but I enjoy solitary hobbies. I guess I'm a bit of a homebody like that. I love to watch movies, and I read a lot."
Skylar grins at the camera, and it's like she's talking directly to me. The video pauses, and I look around to see Mark and Hunter watching me intently.
I clear my throat. "She gave her notice. We need to let her go."
"See, that's what we want to talk to you about," Mark says.
