“What does that mean?” Ethan ushers me forward, pulling out a chair. “My father and I are nothing alike.”
“If you say so,” I murmur, sitting down. I still remember what Helen had told me about her relationship with her husband. She claimed they got along, but that her husband had married her for her money. But I saw the protectiveness in Mr. Wilder’s eyes as he spoke about his wife, the tiny details he still remembers. A man who married a woman for her money wouldn’t notice these details.
“So what brought you to my office so early in the morning? Did you miss me?”
The wicked smile he reserves only for me is playing on his lips, my stomach twisting in response. I hold out the list of employees Layla gave me. “No. This did.”
He accepts the paper, a wary look in his eyes. “What’s this?”
“Why don’t you tell me? You’re the one who fired these people.”
Ethan’s eyes skim over the list, his expression calm. “Yes, and?”
“Want to tell me why you fired them? Or at least these seven names that are highlighted?”
Ethan eyes the copies of the termination letters in my hand and plucks one of them from my hand, the one I was reading. “You’ve clearly already read the termination letters. So you know.” He glances at the paper. “This one has consistently been arriving late to the strategy meetings. She’s also not showing up on time to work.”
I take back the piece of paper from him, and my brows raise. “Letty Morne. Letty’s teenage son is in the hospital. Car accident. He’s fighting for his life. She’s a single parent and trying to make ends meet. She has two other kids. Her husband passed away last year. She’s been struggling with everything, and then her son was in the car accident. She ended up using up all her vacation days, but he’s still critical and the company doesn’t believe in giving paid leave for emergency situations like these. She needed the health insurance to cover the costs, so she continued working. I was aware of the situation and allowed her to come in late. Her team lead knows, as well as Nirvani, the head of Strategy and Design.”
Ethan goes still. “She never said that to?—”
“I was told that she was late for a meeting that you were attending. And that you fired her as soon as she walked inthrough the door. You weren’t even supposed to be part of that meeting. You just showed up.”
“I wasn’t aware of the situation. HR did not inform me.”
“Before I came up here, I read Vanessa’s report about the situation. According to her, she came to your office to try to inform you of Letty’s situation. You wouldn’t hear it. You told her not to question your judgment and not to get ahead of herself.”
Ethan purses his lips. “I vaguely remember?—”
“Of course, I’m sure it’s very vague. As would be the case with Harper Beckett. He’s a Junior Data Analyst. He joined last year. He was fired for,” I look down at the copy of the termination letter and read, “‘inconsistent and constant errors in his work.’” I look up at Ethan. “He typed his name wrong on a report. You fired him for misspelling his own name.”
“A fool who can’t even spell his name right doesn’t deserve to?—”
“His laptop wasn’t working, Ethan. IT was in the process of getting him a new one. Someone spilled coffee on his keyboard. Some of the keys weren’t working. You fired him for that. And once again, Vanessa approached you about this, but you were rather rude.”
“Is that what she said?” Ethan looks irritable.
“Look,” I sigh. “Some firings I understand. They were justifiable. The rest? You didn’t investigate any of the cases. You didn’t consult HR. You didn’t go over the reports of any of these employees. These were impulsive firings.”
I hand over the copies of the termination letters, and he goes through them, his jaw tense.
“Mind telling me why I’ve had three people refer to you as a tyrant on my way up here? It’s very specific phrasing. Someone asked me if you’d been on your period for a month. I didn’t know how to respond to that.”
“Who asked you that?” Ethan demands darkly.
“Why?” I shoot back. “Are you going to fire them, too? Add them to your hit list?”
He falls silent, his eyes flashing. “Careful, Natalie?—”
“I’m not here as your—” I pause, unable to put a name to our relationship. “Look.” It’s a struggle not to get angry for all the people who so unfairly lost their jobs. “We have to fix this. I can call them back?—”
“Put Miss Morne on paid leave till her son recovers,” Ethan cuts me off. “The company will cover the extra cost of the treatment that the insurance doesn’t, and by the company, I mean me. She doesn’t have to come to work till her son is discharged. And if it takes longer than two months, we don’t want her skills growing redundant, so put her on work-from-home. As for the others, I’m sure there’s a reason you think they should not have been fired. You can deal with them accordingly. Bring them back with a 10% salary increase.”
I study him. “Alright.”
I gather the papers, trying to figure out how to ask my next question. Finally, I lift my head. “What happened? I didn’t take you for someone so impulsive. You told me Vanessa was doing a good job, but she couldn’t get out of here fast enough. According to her, you weren’t very receptive towards her.”
“She wasn’t you.” Those three words have me gaping at him.
