“Oh, Sky.”I’m sitting on my small couch, petting my favorite person, my dog. “Today was a shit show.” With my free hand, I lift my beer can. My third of the night. After a deep swallow, I mutter, “I have abadfeeling about all of it.”
I couldn’t admit that earlier at the office, but I do have a bad feeling about this. Something changed today. It’s like there’s been a shift in the universe, and one that’s not good. Not good at all.
“Oh, Sky,” I say with another sigh. “At least I’ve got you.”
She snuggles in closer to my leg and gives me her own doggy sigh.
See? She gets me.
* * *
I wokeup this morning with a revised attitude. Yesterday was a fluke. Everyone has bad days now and then, and that was mine. I woke up early so I could take Sky out for an extra-long walk. On my way to work, I grabbed a cup of coffee from my favorite coffee shop and hummed, out loud, on the subway. You’d think that would have drawn stares, but it’s New York; humming is nothing.
I enter the Morgan building with a skip in my step and a smile on my face—until I get up to my office and discover the place is deserted. Strange. Start time here is 9:00 a.m., and it’s currently five after nine. I look at Clive’s old desk, then walk to his new office and see it’s empty. I head down the short hallway and peek into various offices of the marketing personnel and the place is deserted.
“Where is everyone?” I ask aloud.
“In the auditorium on five.” I turn to see Lindsay, our social media director.
I stare at her for a second as she gathers up things from her desk. “Is everyone supposed to be there?”
“Yep. They sent an email last night.”
I checked my email last night. Several times. I pull my phone out of the inside pocket of my suit jacket and quickly get to my work email account. I scan the emails but don’t see one about a meeting. Quickly, I check my Spam email and still don’t see it. “I didn’t get one.” I’m talking to myself, but Lindsay hears.
“Don’t know, but we’d better get there. It sounded important.”
I follow her down the hall to a set of elevators. She presses the button and we wait in silence. I’m not sure what to say, especially since my mind is whirring about not getting the email. That’s never happened before. I always get company emails.
On the fifth floor, I wait for Lindsay to step off first so I can follow her into the room. Pausing outside the large doors, she pulls the door open slowly and peeks in. “Good.” She sighs. “It hasn’t started yet.”
We enter the room, and I quickly scan for an empty seat. As I do, I can’t help noticing that it appears my entire department of about forty-five people is in attendance. That means the art department, marketing, and advertising, plus a bunch of jobs in between are all here.
Making my way to the back, the first person I make eye contact with is Clive. I attempt a smile, but the scowl he’s giving me says all I need know.
That’s okay. Fuck Clive.
The moment I take my seat, Graham steps onto the stage in front of us, looking down at us in our seats like he’s the fucking king of the world. He is, sort of. I mean, whatever the guy touches turns to gold, so that’s very king-like. Right? He certainly dresses like royalty. I bet his suit cost five grand. At least.
“Thanks for coming,” he mutters as he tosses down a thick green folder onto the podium set up in the middle of the room. He doesn’t miss a beat when he adds, “I’m not happy with the direction things are going, so there’s going to be some changes.”
Wow, he’s not wasting time. He just went for it.
Shit.
I hear a few people actually whisper similar words. Other than that, the room is dead silent.
From my right, I see one brave hand slowly rise.
“What?” Graham snaps, looking at the hand.
It’s a woman’s voice. I pull myself up a little to see who it is. It’s Maureen, one of our graphic designers. We call her Mo for short. “Wh-What kind of changes?”
Wow, she’s stuttering. I don’t blame her. You can tell Graham is angry about something. He’s never been a very pleasant boss, and even though his mood has improved thanks to his love life, the guy is still cold as ice.
“Well,Maureen,” he growls, “I was getting to that.”
“Right,” she says quickly.
