He tore out a sheet and slid it toward me with a pen. “Cross it out, correct it, and then we’ll start negotiations from there.”
I picked up the sheet, and my hand tightened around the pen as the number stared at me.
69,998.00
“It’s not a typo,” I said. “This is correct.”
He blinked. “Correct, as in what you make per year, or per quarter?”
“Funny.” I returned the sheet. “Per year. I was supposed to get a twenty-five percent raise right before you—uh—well, you know.”
He sighed and took a long sip of wine.
“Were there any salary escalator clauses in your contract?” he asked.
“No.” I shook my head. “But I did get three and five thousand a few times a year, so it pushes my salary about ten to twelve thousand higher here and there.”
“Okay, Miss Stone.” He shut the folder. “That’s the end of your salary negotiation session.”
“How? You didn’t make a counter-offer or say anything.”
“I don’t need to,” he said. “Your current salary tells me everything I need to know.”
“I’m afraid I’m not following.”
“I’m going to handle your new salary on my own,” he said. “I’ll send you an offer letter after I think on the numbers for a while.”
“I can’t afford to make any less,” I said. “So, if you’re thinking about making it lower, tell me now so I can quit.”
“I’ll tell you when I send the offer letter,” he said, finishing off his wine. “In the meantime, I’m changing course on our missing money operation, so I’ll be adjusting your job title soon as well.”
“I see.” I crossed my arms. “So, this meeting was pointless.”
“Not at all.” He smirked. “We got to see each other outside the office. In different attire. That’s not pointless at all.”
“You’re delusional if you think I’m attracted to you.”
“I know you are.” He stood up. “I knew that from day one, if you recall.”
“That doesn’t mean anything.”
“Okay, Miss Stone.”
“I’m serious.”
“I said okay.” He walked ahead, ushering me to follow him back to the front door, but then he stopped and turned around.
“Why haven’t you taken the CPA exam?” He caught me off guard with his question.
“I…” I stalled. “I haven’t had enough time to study for it.”
“I don’t believe that,” he said. “You could’ve taken it years ago.”
“I wasn’t ready.”
“I don’t believe that either, but I’ll let it slide for the answer to something else.” He looked into my eyes. “You’re only nine credits short of your master’s, and I doubt the remaining business structure and tax code classes are that difficult, so—explain why you’re putting that off.”
I swallowed, stunned that he knew all this.
