“Well, what did you think about Dougie?”
“I was indifferent at the time, but it’s been almost a year, and things haven’t smoothed over. Robert and Dougie spend so much time bickering, they’re oblivious to their own company struggling to stay afloat.”
I wince when she admits this. I’m perfectly aware of our company’s financial state, but hearing it from the CFO’s own mouth makes my stomach churn. To Tracy’s point, we haven’t hit an EBITDA target—the financial benchmark our entire bonus structure is based on—since my first quarter with LC, and that was a year and a half ago.
The fact of the matter is the print magazine industry is dying. Some of our brands have pivoted successfully into the digital space, but other editors in chief are dragging their feet.
And our CEO is letting them.
“You think Dougie Dawson is damaging LC?” I ask her.
Tracy’s mouth presses into a firm, displeased line. “Yes. We need change, and we needed it yesterday. I don’t know why our CEO isn’t fixing anything, but I seem to be the only person concerned.”
“Well, that’s…” I hesitate, biting my lip. “That’s a violation of his fiduciary duty.”
As the words leave my mouth, I brace myself to get smote for blasphemy, but Tracy doesn’t backpedal or tell me I crossed a line.
She says, “It would be helpful to me… and it would be in the best interest of the company… if I could learn the root cause of the hatred between our CEO and chairman.”
What Tracy isn’t saying comes across loud and clear.
Get Alex to tell you the truth.
I don’t fully understand why she’s divulging all this to me, why she’s askingmespecifically to do this, and not for the first time, I try to get inside Tracy’s head.
I work with Alex Harrison closely.
I’m around his age.
She thinks if I really try, I can get him to spill.
Maybe. Maybe I could. But the word “yes” can’t get past my lips because the image of him, shoulders hunched while he got berated by Robert, is telling me to be careful with him. Alex is fragile right now. Maybe digging for and then relaying information about his dubious father is an even more dubious thing to do.
I’ve never liked underhandedness. It makes my skin itch, my muscles feel tight, and when it comes to Alex, that uncomfortable feeling in the pit of my gut is doubled, tripled. So badly, I wish I could say to Tracy,Why can’t you just ask him yourself?
“Please help me, Casey,” Tracy says.Heart’s on your sleeve,I warn myself. She’s reading my hesitation. “You know me, and I know you. This isn’t about petty gossip. It’s important.”
“Okay,” I breathe in the next instant. “I’ll try.”
Maybe I would have deliberated longer if I trusted Tracy less, or thought more highly of Robert and Dougie, or wasn’tdyingto know the truth myself. But once, Tracy helped me, and now she’s calling it in. I owe her.
She nods, satisfied with my answer. She opens her mouth to say something else, but Benny comes into the break room right then, humming theHamiltonsoundtrack under his breath. Tracy breaks eye contact with me and steps away.
“You can have the last slice of banana bread,” she tells me, and then walks out the door.
The sound of Benny opening the fridge interrupts my train of thought. “What was that about?” he asks. “She had her boss lady expression on. You in trouble, Maitland?”
“Erm.” I grasp for a fib. I’ve always been a great secret keeper, but lying is something that makes my neck clammy and my heart race. I open my mouth to make up something mind-numbingly boring, but as if Benny can sense it, he talks first.
“Actually, in the interest of my mental health, I’ve decided not to care.”
My middle finger sticks up as Benny throws me a wicked grin from behind the refrigerator door. All I can see is an annoyingly well-moisturized face and shoulders blanketed in a sky-blue pashmina.
“Your loss,” I hedge. “It was juicy.”
Benny rolls his eyes, playing into my reverse psychology like a horse led to water. “Casey.” He shakes his head as he grabs his Guava Goddess kombucha from the fridge. “If I’ve learned anything from you about finance, it’s that it’s never,everjuicy.”
I roll my eyes back for good measure, grab the banana bread out of the toaster, and stomp out of the break room. Benny follows me all the way back to my desk.
