The Checklist by Addie Woolridge (color ebook reader TXT) 📗

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.”

“Don’t you dare imply—”

“Tread carefully.” Estelle’s interruption was sharp. When Jared stopped speaking, she placed her hand on Dylan’s shoulder and nodded for her to continue.

A slow smile crept across her face as Dylan recalled the threatening emails, the irate voice mails, and their conversation earlier. “Jared. I’ll do you a favor. I’d hate to ruin your career, so I’ll give you ten seconds to leave before I call security.”

She smirked as Jared recoiled and opened his mouth to respond but couldn’t. Instead he stood there shaking, clenching and unclenching his fists as if they might resolve this for him.

“You heard the lady,” John said, stepping aside so he could pass.

The gesture seemed to jog Jared into speaking. “Surely you can’t think—”

“One.” Estelle began to count. “Two.”

Jared yelped, “I refuse to be dismissed in this manner. I demand—”

“Three.”

“Think of your career, Jared,” Dylan said, a hint of a smile betraying her.

“Four.”

“This ten count is for you to get yourself to the parking lot. It isn’t a generous timeline to argue and then head for the door,” Steve said, his forehead wrinkling with a scowl.

“Five.”

Looking around the group one last time, Jared shouted, “I’ll see you on Monday.” He pointed a stubby finger directly at John and froze in a dramatic attempt at a stare-down.

“Six.” Estelle sounded bored, as if she were waiting for her manicure to dry.

When John didn’t respond, Jared let out an indignant huff. Pushing past Dylan, he marched toward the door in short, bitter strides, barking at waiters to get out of his way. The staff mostly ignored him, adding to the insult. With a howled curse, he cleared the blue carpet, leaving what was left of the group and several guests staring at the hallway he’d vanished down.

“Who says charity events are boring?” Steve said, his shoulders relaxing. Tim whistled.

“I think he took that rather well,” Estelle cracked.

“What a joke. Going on a golf vacation, posting about it on an open social media account, and charging drinks to the company. The jerk just forwarded along your reports as if he did the work,” John said, shaking his head.

“Is that what he was doing?” Tim asked, indignant.

“Yes. And we all kept wondering why the reports were so thorough and well structured. Usually, we just ask our junior partners to fill out a one-page form and turn up for a call once a week. He was probably using your work to make the calls,” John said, gesturing to Dylan.

“Amateur hour,” Tim said, sipping his cocktail, prompting Steve to give him a curious look.

“Well, I’m glad to be rid of him. He was difficult before the Technocore placement; it’ll be nice to have someone more reasonable to report to,” Dylan said.

“I heard rumors.” Estelle smiled. “I just wanted to see it for myself.”

“Wait, so you flew all the way up here just to fire someone?” Dylan laughed, switching her half-full glass to the other hand so she could push her hair away from her forehead.

“Not entirely.” John shrugged. “We also flew up to get a closer look at our new junior partner.”

“You’ve already hired someone to replace Jared? That was fast.”

“Oh no. We didn’t hire anyone. We’re promoting someone. You, in fact,” Estelle said.

For a moment, Dylan was silent, trying to process what was happening. She’d walked into this evening unsure of her fate beyond the next week. Now she was being offered the junior partnership she’d been working so hard to achieve. “Thank you so—”

“Really, John?” Steve interrupted, scowling at the mother-son duo, neither of whom looked particularly upset. “We talked about this last week, and I made it clear that we were working on an offer for Dylan as chief strategic officer.”

“Well, it was your fault for showing your hand when you called to confirm that she was no longer employed with us. It turns out she was, and now she’ll remain that way.” Estelle shrugged, a small smile playing with the corners of her mouth.

Tim’s mood flipped into agitation, and he began bouncing on his toes, only slowing down to take