Conflict of Interest (Employee Relations Book 1) (25 page)

“Knock, knock.” Mike stands outside my door holding a white box, wrapped with a purple bow, and two envelopes.

“What’s this?” I question.

“No clue. Saw it when I was checking my mail and thought I’d bring it to you.”

Taking the box, I inspect it for a note or card, some indication of who it’s from. There’s nothing. Curious, I unwrap the bow and tear off the paper. I take a pair of scissors and cut through a layer of tape before finally getting to the prize.

And what a prize it is!

“Oh my.”

Mike leans across my desk to get a look at the spectacle before us. One lone black stiletto and a container of Legg’s pantyhose sits in the middle of the box with a card that reads, “
Looking to get a leg up once my foot’s in the door
.”

Mike barks out a laugh. “That’s awesome.”

“Here then.” I hand him the accompanying resume. “Now you can fill that open position you have.” Taking the shoe out, I turn it from side to side, and check out the brand. I’m not sure what kind of person sends a shoe with their credentials, but if they were smart they’d have sent a name brand and
two
shoes in the right size.

Upon further inspection, it’s better there’s just one. “Gross.”

“What?” Mike looks up from the resume that I seriously think he’s considering.

“It’s worn. Like
really
worn,” I turn it over again and cringe. “I think that’s gum stuck to the bottom.”

“Figures. The resume’s filled with spelling errors and the candidate has no applicable work experience.”

“Where have all the good candidates gone?” I sigh dramatically. “Last week I interviewed someone and they actually brought their mother with them. Said he valued her input.”

The corners of his mouth curve upward. “Did you go through with the interview?”

“Um, no.”

Mike chuckles. “That’s a shame.”

I slide my desk drawer open and toss the box inside.

“Do you still have the signed memorabilia from Kelsey?” Mike asks, peeking into the drawer.

“I would if
you
hadn’t kept it.”

“Did I keep that?” he feigns confusion.

“We both know you kept that…though I still can’t figure out why.”

About a year ago, a female candidate sent a hand-written thank you note after her interview with Mike. Somehow during the course of their conversation it came up that he was a sports fan and she had connections. Not only did he get a note, he also received a white double-D bra signed by one of the Boston Bruins. Needless to say, she didn’t get the job. Mike did however keep the autographed lingerie.

I lean back in my chair and yawn. Mike evaluates me carefully and the smile drops from his face. “You look exhausted.”

That’s an understatement. Sunday morning my brothers and I convinced my parents that they needed a break and sent them on a mini vacation down on the Cape. With business about to pick up at the restaurant it was now or never. Unfortunately, Vincent’s rotation in the ER changed and Leo and Anthony have been covering at the restaurant. That left me and my uncle to care for my grandmother.

It’s been eye opening. And to think my parents have been shouldering this burden mostly on their own for the last four years is miraculous. They’re good people…that I already knew. Yes I’m exhausted. Yes I’m likely in over my head. But if this is what they’ve been dealing with then the money it’ll cost for my grandmother to live at Recollections will be worth it because they deserve so much more.

“Just a few restless night.”

“What did your parents think of the facility?”

A warm smile spreads across my face. “Loved it! They agree to accept the slot if the program gets approved.”

“That’s great news.”

“It is. Keep your fingers crossed for me that the board loves the program just as much.”

The phone rings and a London number appears on the screen. “Good afternoon, this is Gabby.”

“It’s Jack. Got a few minutes?”

“Sure.” I cover the receiver with my hand and whisper to Mike that I need to take the call.

“Hey, Jack. What’s going on?”

I end the call and slink down in my chair, not quite believing what I’ve just been told. It’s happening. Like
actually
happening. My manager isn’t coming back from maternity leave, meaning her role will be available, and both her and Jack want me to put in for it. Of course there’s no guarantee but their vote has got to mean something.

My only concern has to do with Jack’s parting words.
“Continue to drive your partnership with Lucas. I’ve heard there’s tension. I see him as my successor, even over Mike. Help me make him successful, Gabby and the job is yours.”

Talk about deflating my sails. With Lucas out of the office it’s been easy to pretend our last encounter didn’t happen. I’m typically the last thing on his mind so it wouldn’t surprise me if he didn’t give it a second thought. But me? I’ve been freaking out.

Since Saturday he’s officially dropped from my radar. I’d taken my parents to tour Recollections, which went way better than planned. The grounds were beautiful and the amenities were impressive. For a few hours it took my mind off of Lucas. Caring
for my grandmother has helped too. Unfortunately, any time alone without distraction has him invading my thoughts.

If securing this promotion wasn’t so important to me, both financially and professionally, I’d continue with my current modus operandi and ignore him right back. No emails. No texts. No calls.

Following my conversation with Jack, he’s the only thing I can think about.

How the hell am I going to get him to come around?

Not by sitting here doing nothing. Caving, I send him a quick text.

Me: Hey, how was New York. Would love to catch up when you’re back in the office tomorrow.

I hit send and immediately regret how it sounds.

The little bubbles that let you know someone’s responding to your text appear, and for a millisecond I’m actually excited. Maybe there’s hope after all. Holding onto that feeling, I watch the screen impatiently.

And wait.

Two minutes later and a message still hasn’t come through. The bubbles stopped about twenty seconds after they appeared. Frustrated, I put my phone away and finish what needs to be done before heading home, sadly realizing that if my success rests in Lucas’s hands then I’m screwed.

On the walk home, I take a detour through Boston Commons, buying a hot dog from a food truck on the way, and perch myself on a park bench. Spring is finally here. Green grass has replaced the dingy brown weeds and the days are starting to get longer. My phone chimes on the last bite of my hot dog, indicating I have a new email. Hope rises from somewhere deep inside of me, letting me believe that Lucas had come to his senses. Maybe he read my text, or better yet all the emails I’d sent him over the past month and finally wants to discuss them. These thoughts filter through my brain in the two seconds it takes to unlock my phone and bring up my email. It takes far less for my heart to sink.

There’s no email from Lucas, but there is one from John, one of Lucas’s direct reports, letting me know that his wife unexpectedly passed away late last night and that he didn’t know how long he’d be out of the office. I quickly reply with my condolences and answer a few questions about benefits before heading to my apartment in search of wine.

I tip back the glass until it’s empty and fill it again. I can’t imagine what John’s going through, what it must be like to lose the love of your life. Knowing he’s going to need support, I confirm he’s okay with me letting his colleagues know and then email the staff with the details of the arrangements. It’s a fine line, to balance personal support with professionalism, yet when you spend hours a day with the people you work with, you become family of sorts.

Everyone on Lucas’s staff emails back and we agree to attend the services as a team. Lucas is the only one who hasn’t responded by the time I get in bed. It’s nearly 10PM, but I call him anyway. And just as I should have expected, he doesn’t answer.

So why am I shocked Friday afternoon when he doesn’t show at the funeral?

After the service, a few of us take a cab back to the office. I left a few things upstairs that I’ll need to review over the weekend for when Jack returns from the UK on Monday.

I step off the elevator and part ways with the others, and absentmindedly round the corner at the end of the hall, nearly running into Lucas’s chest in the process.
He’s in the fucking office?
Of course he is. His eyes travel the length of my body and then focus almost quizzically on somewhere past me. Any other day I might be tempted to decode his reaction.

Not today.

“No pink today?” he grins but it’s far from genuine. “Low on laundry or someone die?”

My reaction must say it all. He knows immediately and he’s horrified. Good.
Insensitive prick
. My instincts tell me he’s not that cold-hearted but I’m too pissed to care.

“Shit, Gabriella. It was meant as a joke.” His gaze falls to the floor and then rises to meet mine. He blows out a deep breath and runs his hands through his hair. “Are you okay?”

God, he has some nerve.

“Was that a serious question?”

Reaching for my arm he narrows his brows in concern. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Do I want to
talk
?” I ask in disbelief, and shake off his hold. “I called you two days ago to inform you that John’s wife had died suddenly. If you checked your damn email you’d know I sent you the information as well. All of us, besides you, were there to pay our respects, to show John that we were there for him. Granted you’ve only known him for a month or so, but it would have been a kind gesture. Jesus, a card or a phone call would have sufficed.”

“I was dealing with something personal when I lost my phone on the subway Wednesday afternoon. Why didn’t you leave a message?”

“Was your email broken as well?”

“I would have remembered seeing an email like that.”

I’m about to snap. “Oh, so I’m a liar?”

“That’s not what I meant.”

And then it hits me. That day in his office when I set up the email reminder, he’d deleted it right in front of me and told me straight out that he’d check emails from me only once a week.

“Of course you would have seen it had you checked your emails from me any day of the week aside from Fridays!”

I drop my chin and close my eyes. I’d thought he was being an ass that day, which was a given. Apparently, he was also one-hundred percent serious. I lift my head, meeting his gaze and envision ripping his head off. Who the hell does he think he is?

“Gabriella—”

I hold up my hand. “Save it. I don’t want to hear it.”

I brush past him and grab what I need from my office. When I turn to leave he’s standing in the doorway. He looks like he’s been punched in the stomach. Good to know he has an emotion other than pissed off and annoyed.

“I’ll send flowers, or call him. What do you suggest?”

“
Now
you want my advice? Well, here you go since you don’t seem familiar with the concept. Actions speak louder than words. You should consider applying that principal to your entire life,” I hiss, getting in his face.

Sighing, I step back and shake my head. “Do you really think I reach out to you because I have nothing else to do? Trust me, I wouldn’t interact with you if my job didn’t depend on it. I mean it’s obvious you hate me. But your team? What the hell?” I suck in all the air my lungs can hold and slowly blow it out. “I’m not the only one who noticed you weren’t there. They deserve better.”

Lucas expression hardens. “You’re being irrational. Just calm down.”

“And you’re an asshole. I’ve got things to do. Could you move?”

Lucas steps aside and I waste no time blowing past him, stepping into the hallway as Jack unexpectedly rounds the corner.

“Just the person I was looking for,” Jack embraces me. “How’s John? I tried to get back in time for the service but the flight was delayed.”

My attention volleys between the two men. How can they be so different? One man rearranges his schedule and crosses an ocean to be here for an employee, while the other has no clue what’s going on.

“He’s holding up the best he can.”

What else can I say? In addition to grieving for the love of his life, John has twin teenage daughters he has to raise on his own now.

“And how are you, Lucas?” Jack asks.

“Been better,” Lucas replies.

Jack pats Lucas on the shoulder. “Just be there for John and your team. That’s all you can do.”

Lucas nods. “Of course.”

Be there for him? Fucking comical.

“Other than that, how are things going? Feeling settled?”

“Getting there, Jack.”

That would require some effort.

I choose this moment to lose my professionalism and have verbal diarrhea. “Don’t let him downplay how well he’s acclimating, Jack. You should hear the ideas he has for
reorganizing his team. In fact, they’re so creative I’m not sure any of us would have considered it.”