Webster stuck out his hand. “Nice to meet you. Edward has faith in you, so I will too. I’m hoping now that we’re on the same side, you’ll see we aren’t all living in that bubble you seem to think we do. Edward even managed to get that pain in the ass Martinelli to step outside his comfort zone.”
“What can I say?” Edward shrugged. “I have a soft spot for him.”
“The only soft spot is in your head for putting up with his crap.” He jabbed a finger at Edward. “And where is he? Absent again from a staff meeting?” His eyes darted side to side. “If I recall, the last time I showed up for one of your meetings, he wasn’t there either.”
“He’s sick.”
“Bullshit. He skates by, and you give him a pass.”
“That’s not true. I’ve sent him out to the boroughs, and he’s turned in some very well-rounded reviews.” To this point, I hadn’t seen Edward ever lose his temper, but I was getting a glimpse of the man and now understood why he commanded respect. “He’s done what I’ve asked of him and acted as the professional he is. I’ve known him for a long time and understand him. And he does his job well.”
“Part of which is showing up for staff meetings.”
“Which, I might remind you, is under my purview. And I will deal with him accordingly when he does come in.”
It was like watching two lions attempting to assert their dominance. I stepped away, not wanting to get caught in the crossfire. Edward laughed and patted me on the back.
“Don’t worry, Salvatore. We do this all the time. Keeps me young.”
Webster was less inclined to be so generous. “I’m tired of it and him. I read Grant’s latest blog post about Martinelli’s lack of that so-called professionalism you claim he possesses. And his last review? Stating that a cow’s cud is better tasting than the meal you’ve been served is not the way we operate here atUltimate NYC. He’s had enough warnings. It’s obvious he doesn’t give a damn, and neither do I. The time has come forUltimate NYC’s relationship with Martinelli to end.”
“Thomas, wait. A welcome breakfast is hardly the time to make decisions such as that. Let’s think this through a minute and be more rational.”
“Why, Edward, are you telling me I’m being irrational?” Webster showed his even white teeth, and a cold wave rippled through me. I didn’t ever want to get on the bad side of this man, and for a brief moment, I wondered if I’d made the right decision. Webster added, “I wouldn’t want to have to make too many editorial changes at once. Call him in and see it done by tomorrow.”
Without a further word, he walked out of the conference room. The rest of the staff milled about, seemingly clueless to the conversation that had taken place. I felt a little sick to my stomach, especially as he’d cited my words as one of the triggers for firing Martinelli. I had no desire to be the cause of someone losing their job.
“Are you really going to fire him?”
“Painful as it may be, Francisco was always aware he skated on thin ice with Webster. He delighted in poking the bear, with the knowledge tucked away that someday the bear might bite back. Today, unfortunately, his time ran out.” Edward let out a gusty sigh. “I’d better call him.”
“You won’t do it over the phone, will you?”
“No. Of course not. I’ll take him to dinner, and we’ll talk. One thing he knows is I’ve always been frank with him.” He put his hand on my shoulder. “Don’t think it had anything to do with you. Webster’s been after him for years. Francisco was always living on borrowed time here. And maybe it’s for the best.”
“How so?”
“He’s an incredibly private man, which worked perfectly with him being a food critic and keeping his identity a secret, but sometimes I felt he lived too much inside that persona.”
“It must be hard.”
“Yes, it is. Now, you need to get yourself settled and file that column you promised us.” I hesitated, and Edward shook his head. “There’s nothing to be done.” He changed the subject. “I saw you chatting with Julia.”
I couldn’t dwell on a person’s misfortune, someone I didn’t even know, when he’d created so much negativity around him. “Yes, she said she’d like to do a joint review with me. I couldn’t believe it.”
Kind eyes met mine with frankness. “Believe it, son. You’re the future. Soak it all up.” His shoulders sagged, and I couldn’t help the funny twist my heart gave, knowing what he had lying ahead of him.
I returned to my office, and before I had a chance to text Mike or Frisco, the IT guy was there to set me up and sync my new company phone—another perk of the job—with my calendar. Then Matt showed up, and we worked through all the graphic designs for my blog, which took almost two hours.
“Sure you don’t want to go to lunch?” He slipped his laptop into a messenger bag. “That bagel was a long time ago.”
“I better not. I have a lot to learn. But maybe another time?” It was only lunch. That wasn’t a date.
“Sure.” Matt visibly brightened. “There’s a great poke place down the block. How about tomorrow?”
I had to laugh. “You don’t give up.”
“Nope,” he said cheerfully. “So give in. Resistance is futile.”
