Page 38 of Handling the CEO

“Hey Jon, you wanted to shave a chat? Oh Dahlia, you are back in the office? I thought you were out for the day?” she asks, a bit surprised to see me. I too am a bit surprised to see her keeping track of my location.

“Yes, Mike. DJ and I have something to tell you. Well, two things actually. But I think we will now finally find how Lex Aviation has been stealing our data.”

Two things? Unsure what the second thing is, I decide to just start the video… Jon is perched on the edge of his desk, Ms. Jones stiffly sitting down on one of the chairs, with a severe look on her face.

The camera kicks off once a figure enters the room, holding a folder to their chest. The camera doesn’t show the face, but we could see she is probably female based on the person’s stature. They move straight to the corner with the fax, take the sheet off and start dialing a number. The machine slowly starts to go through each page, sending the information.

“This will carry on a bit as it takes about a minute a page to send a fax—that is why you had such a high phone bill. Just now they sent about fifty pages,” I interrupt the recording. “But if we move on around here…”

The person in the video fidgets next to the fax, humming a sad song, then glances towards the entrance, checking if anyone sees her. And that’s when I pause the video again and we can all see who it is as clear as day.

“Son of a bitch!” Jon exclaims. “It was her all along! Fuck, she had access to everything!” He paces, clenching his fists, and I am not sure what to do with the VP there. If it was just us, I would go calm him down. Switching my interest over to her, however, I can just see her stunned in her seat, speechless.

“I am going to get her now, before she sends any more of my data over.” He walks over and slams the door open, and I hear a yelp from the desk next to it.

“Anya, get the fuck in here!” he yells at his EA, fuming.

Anya? The name sounds familiar and for a change, I notice her in a bit more detail. She comes in holding her middle, eyes down, mousy and small, her thick glasses on, wearing again a nondescript cardigan and gray slacks. Dark-blonde hair in a low bun. You would think she is a quiet librarian.

Jon has told me about her incompetence and all the issues he had with her, but I was never in the room with her for more than a minute or so. I wondered why she would scurry off whenever I came to visit, but never raised it with him.

My… boyfriend… points her to sit in the other chair and plants the laptop on the desk so she can see for herself.

“What do you have to say to this, Anya? How long have you been stealing information for Miranda?”

The girl is frozen, the image clearly having her red-handed. But suddenly, I observe her squaring her shoulders, putting her hands on the sides of the chair. Her posture changes as she crosses her legs, and now she appears confident and strong. Her black eyes are moving between the three of us, this time full of fire and power.

“Guess you caught me, right? So sad. Also, very sad you can’t use that against me.” She smirks, looking down at us like we are here for her, not the other way around. “Under Florida status 934.03 it is illegal to audio record someone without their permission—and from what I can hear in this video, that is a fax making quite a lot of noise. I am also humming next to it. Next time, try to take visual only surveillance. Or, even better, make sure I actually signed the document where I agreed to be monitored at work, audio or visual or otherwise. Maybe also check I don’t have an exception filed where I am permitted not to be recorded in any capacity at work, inked by both the CEO and the VP.”

“What the fuck do you mean?” Jon loses it. “What documents?”

“The ones you both signed, of course. Which you clearly both read,” Anya smiles at us like the villain that she is. A well-prepared villain with extensive knowledge of laws, and how to go around them. And that is when it hits me.

“Anya... Peterson?” I ask and the two directors turn to me, confused by the question.

“Yes, that is my name,” she admits, but looks less smug.

“Oh my, you are her! She went to law school with my brother! You finished the top of your class. Marcus described you as one of the smartest, most hardworking people he had ever met. What the hell are you doing pretending to be an executive assistant while selling corporate secrets?”

“Your brother is an attorney? I thought he was a tailor. I did hire her because of her degree, but she said she wanted experience in an actual company before going into corporate law.” Jon is even more puzzled, while Anya sighs, gazing out the window, at least a bit contrite.

“He really is a lawyer, but he prefers making clothes, so that’s what he does.” I shrug, still staring at the blonde. It made more sense now why she was avoiding me; I remember her from Marcus’s graduation. “Well—do you want to say anything?” I pressure her.

“If I may or may not have sent any documents—for which you don’t have any usable evidence—it was not for money. For your information, why I am here is none of your business.” She continues to look out the window, avoiding us.

“What do you mean, it isn’t our business? It’s all it is—my business! What did Miranda promise you if not cash? A new job? A career?”

“Nothing you would understand, Jon,” she glares at him. “Now, are we done here? I will go clear out my desk.” She simply gets up to just walk out.

I post myself in front of the door. I am only barely taller than her, but I can’t just let her walk out.

“I think we need to call the police,” Ms. Jones says finally, after almost not even being in the room until now. “She may be right about the recording, but I am sure if they dig hard enough, they will find something about her. And girl,” she continues with a chilling voice which scares me as well, “you know they will find something. So how about you tell us how to get Miranda for this instead of you, and maybe we can make a deal?”

I watch the young woman as Mike speaks, and I notice her confidence wavering, and she winces towards the end when she hears the Lex Aviation CEO’s name. Crossing her arms again, she turns directly to the VP.

“Is that right... Ms. Jones? A lot of good can indeed come from digging if you want.” I glance at the older lady and she is stone-faced, angry almost.

“But you are correct,” Anya continues after a breath. “All parties here would rather the police not get involved—how would it look to your board if your EA was allegedly sending documents to your bigger competitor? So, if you want me to help you withMiranda,” she punctuates the name, “I can make sure you get an anonymous email with all I know.”

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