Conflict of Interest (Employee Relations Book 1) (10 page)

If anyone had told me when I was young that I’d grow up to be a glorified, adult babysitter, I’d have said they were crazy. Unfortunately, that’s my reality. At least this week when I’m swamped with employee relations issues.

I can’t choose which issue has been more eventful. Could it be the conversation I had yesterday with an employee and their manager about hygiene? Talk about uncomfortable. I still haven’t decided what was worse – telling a grown man that, although we value him as an employee, others are complaining about his flatulence and overall body odor, or the way his manager dry heaved to the point of having to excuse himself not even five minutes into the conversation.

Thank god I had the foresight to book a conference room.

Or how about the group of co-workers who came to complain about their peer who was picking and saving her scabs in a jar on her desk? Unbeknownst to me, Dermatillomania is an actual disorder. The woman explained that in times of high stress, picking at her skin, and sometimes scabs, brings her relief. Her reason for keeping them? She’s also a hoarder and couldn’t bring herself to throw away a piece of her own flesh away.

At least the conversation I’m currently mediating hasn’t made my stomach turn yet.

“You reprimanded me in a room full of dozens of my colleagues for having bad
oral
skills,” the female employee shouts in horror.

“You do!” the manager insists.

My eyes go wide as saucers.

“Could you please elaborate?” I interject, unsure if I really want to hear his explanation.

“In meetings. She never make a point, only talk in circles. No one can follow,” he animatedly describes. “Bad. Oral. Skills.”

For the love of God.

“I believe you mean
verbal
,” I suggest, though it’s not really a suggestion.

The manager is beyond exasperated. “Same thing,” he exclaims, and then proceeds to describe his subordinate’s issues with ineffective communication in further detail.

Half the problem turns out to be that English is the manager’s second language. This annoys a lot of people, but not me. I cringe just thinking of the things I’d unintentionally say if I was sent to work abroad.

Luckily, what started as a potential sexual harassment claim ends up being a simple misunderstanding. Or rather a translation error that required a lengthy conversation on why publicly reprimanding someone’s lack of “oral capabilities” is never appropriate. This was quickly followed by a discussion of why sending an email to the team insisting that the woman’s blowjob skills were likely fine, would only make it worse.

Apparently they both need training.

An hour later, they leave my office in a better place, though I’m drained. I want an umbrella drink and a nap in that order.

Despite the craziness that is my job, I can’t imagine doing anything else. And if I could just get the bastard across the hall to give me a chance, everything in my world would be right.

It’s been three days since our first meeting and though I’ve tried to talk with him, he’s successfully avoided me like the plague. Aside from introducing him to Mike, the head of Global Sales and Marketing, we haven’t exchanged a word.

That could be partially my fault. Mike asked Lucas to set up a time for the two of them to meet, and since Lucas hadn’t taken any of the documents I’d prepared for him, I knew there was a good chance he didn’t know Mike’s last name. He appeared slightly uncomfortable, yet I could tell he wouldn’t ask. Lucas excused himself and I couldn’t help myself. I quickly got Jack’s org chart and set it on his chair, along with a personal message on a pink sticky note.

I couldn’t tell. Do you need me now?

I guess he didn’t appreciate that. I’m officially getting the cold shoulder for the first time I can remember and it sucks.

Thinking back to our first encounter, I cringe. In fact, the more I think about it the more clearly I see what an epic fail it was. Never in my career have I been taken off guard and deemed speechless by a coworker.

Frankly, I’m still in shock. Who the hell treats someone that way when they’ve just met? One minute he was actively engaged in conversation, the next he basically called me worthless. But Lucas ignoring me isn’t the biggest problem. It wasn’t just his words that threw me off kilter; it was the way I reacted to his presence. The things you read about first encounters, feeling the person before laying eyes on them? It happened then and it continues to happen every time he’s near.

Wearing my emotions on my sleeve isn’t something I’ve struggled with before. Yet the way he’s avoided me makes me wonder if my attraction was transparent. If that’s the case and I’ve made him uncomfortable, I’m not sure how to recover from that other than distance. And right now that’s not an option. This is why I’m outwardly on my best behavior, determined to win him over, or at the very least, kill him with kindness.

At 11AM I grab my untouched breakfast from my desk and head to Jack’s weekly staff meeting. If I’m going to be forced to sit across a table from him for the next two hours, carbs will be necessary.

Upon entering the room, I’m immediately thankful for my foresight. Low and behold, the only seat available is on the far side of the room, right next to
him
. Taking my seat, I allow myself to study his profile while he focuses only on his phone. I thought he was attractive before, but being this close only magnifies his chiseled jaw line, distinguished nose and long lashes. He’s gorgeous…like front cover of GQ gorgeous…and whatever cologne he wears is unfairly intoxicating, drawing a physical response from me that is completely wrong and excites me at the same time.

Co-worker equals off-limits.

Reminding myself of this when he’s in the same vicinity could be it’s own full-time job. So could replaying Jack’s words to me about Lucas before he started.
He’s the future of this company, Gabby. Helping him be successful needs to be your priority.

Ugh.

While Jack sets up, and a few others finish their sidebar conversations, I decide to bite the bullet and break the ice.

“Hey,” I say warmly, as if he hadn’t recently slammed a door in my face. “Almost through your first week. How’s it going?”

He stills, waiting for a few beats before acknowledging me, as if he has to brace himself to be kind.

“Gabriella,” he replies, curtly. “It’s going.”

“Gabby,” I correct, though it falls on deaf ears.

“Alright, everyone. Let’s get started.” Jack calls the meeting to order and scans the room. His eyes land on Lucas. “By now I’m sure you’ve all had a chance to meet Lucas.”

Some people nod, others give a blank look and shrug. Jack doesn’t seem to notice either way and moves on to business. “Okay. I’m not one for beating around the bush. Our European sales have been down since the end of the fourth quarter of last year and Q1 wasn’t any better. Our annual trajectory is way off. Long story short, we’ve tried everything from incenting the sales force to sponsoring major customer events. The market share is too low in comparison to what the company has invested. I’m leaving for the UK tomorrow to meet with potential buyers.”

Everyone sits forward. “It’s only the beginning of the second quarter,” Stan, the head of Product Management admonishes, followed by gasps around the room. Jack calls the meeting back to order.

“We’re seriously divesting?” Lucas asks, seeming genuinely concerned.

“Potentially.
If
we can secure a buyer. It’s either that or a miracle.”

Lucas makes a “humph” sound and takes notes.

Jack continues walking the team through our numbers. Slides of bar charts and other graphical representations of just how bad business is in the European market.

“Could you go back a slide for a moment?” Lucas asks of Jack around slide six.

The rest of the staff leans forward, their attention volleying between Lucas and the presentation. He eyes it,
hmms
, writes notes and then announces he’s good.

Mike comments on the sales strategy that’s been put in place until the final decision regarding divesting is made. He throws out a few numbers, which Lucas flips into percentages. Observing the room it’s obvious everyone thinks he’s some kind of genius. They’re eating out of his hands when all the man has done is apply wisdom from an article on things to do in a meeting to look smart.

Rephrase someone’s sentiments, ask to review a previous slide, take copious notes...
Must be the accent.
I bet if he said “dog shit tastes like chocolate” they’d all agree, but I’m not having it. I discreetly take out my phone and do a quick Google search. When I find the article I’m certain is driving his behavior, I send him a text with the link along with a message.

Me: What’s your next move? A Venn diagram?

His phone vibrates and he takes it out. I watch him open the link and scroll through the article. The corner of his mouth twitches briefly, though he doesn’t look my way. Quickly, he types back a response.