Thank you very much, Andrea…
THIRTY-EIGHT
HARRISON
Three Days Later
In all my years in business, I’d learned two indisputable facts: Numbers never lied, and they didn’t care about your feelings.
No matter how badly you wanted them to…
And after sitting through my thirtieth investor pitch this week, the numbers were screaming at me to accept reality.
Sweet Seasons was still bleeding millions by the minute, and no amount of late-night strategy sessions, creative ideas, or budget cuts could fix it.
The corporate side of the company was overstaffed, and even if—by some miracle—we ran a campaign that netted us $500M, it would take years.
Someone needed to be laid off.
Well,thousandsof someones, according to the latest strategy team I was currently listening to this morning.
Maybe we can compromise on the number somehow…
“Good morning, Mr. Cross.” Mr. Ken Lay, a salt-and-pepper-haired man who looked ten years older than me, slid a folder across the table.
“Morning,” I said.
“As the owner of the Lay Group, I’m proposing a pretty aggressive timeline.” He motioned for me to open the folder. “If you choose to accept our three hundred million dollar investment, we must implement Phase One immediately.”
I glanced at the first page.
“You want me to lay off forty-nine point eight percent of the staff?” I asked. “Why not just say fifty?”
“Fifty percent sounds cold and callous.” He smiled. “Don’t you think?”
I flipped to the next page, seeing the words Savings Long-Term in bold.
“We have put together very generous severance packages, and we’ve even lined up a temporary staffing firm to help the affected employees find new jobs,” he said. “We’ll use the savings from this phase to jumpstart Phase Two.”
“It says you’d only be giving them two weeks’ notice,” I said. “That’s… a bit short, Mr. Lay.”
“It’s also pretty standard.” He shrugged. “You’ve laid off people with two hours’ notice from what I recall.”
“That’s true…” I flipped through a few more pages, and Andrea’s voice cut through my thoughts.
“Most of the people who work here have been here for almost a decade or more, and I’m asking you not to destroy their livelihoods…”
I tuned it out as I looked at more of the equations.
If their math was even halfway right, we’d be back within striking distance of Starbucks within eight months.
“Are there any severance packages in play for the employees who have to be let go?” I asked him. “That would need to come from your end if I consider.”
“Why would you even want to give these people extra money on their way out, Mr. Cross?” He crossed his arms. “Half of them are literally dead weight.”
“Dead weight?” Andrea’s voice—her real voice—suddenly cut across the room, making everyone turn to the door. “Is that what you just said?”
“Ah, Miss Stone.” Mr. Lay smiled at her. “I wasn’t aware that you would be joining us today.”
