Great . . . just what I need.
Half an hour later we arrive at the top floor. “Hello.” Courtney smiles. “Just go in, he’s expecting you.”
Bob, Joel, and I exchange glances.
“Great.” I fake a smile, we walk through, and I drop my shoulders and steel myself for his onslaught.
Elliot Miles is a lot of things; weak is not one of those.
Bob knocks on the door. “Come in,” the deep voice calls.
“Fuck this,” Joel whispers.
I smile-it’s actually hilarious how scared the boys are of him.
We walk in to find Elliot sitting behind his desk. He sits back and raises his chin to the sky and I instantly know that stance.
He’s not mad, he’s raging fucking angry.
“You wanted to see us,” I ask.
He points to the conference table with his pen. “Let’s sit over there.”
I exhale.
I hate that fucking table.
He stands and undoes his suit jacket with one hand-he’s wearing a navy suit and a fitted crisp white shirt-takes his jacket off and throws it over the back of his chair, his tight behind on display. As he stands I can see the muscles flex in his shoulder as he pulls his chair out.
Great, just what I need to see-suit porn.
His dark hair is hanging over his forehead and his eyes are a brilliant blue. It would really help my cause if he got a little uglier.
“I want to talk to you about the internet outage last week.” He slaps the printed report on the table in front of us. I’m instantly pulled out of my daydream.
Focus.
“I thought you might,” I mutter under my breath.
“Explain it to me,” he says.
I open my mouth to speak.
“Not you. Joel,” he interrupts.
Joel and Bob exchange nervous glances.
“Well, we had to upload a new system into our admin site and to do this we needed to add a new WAP code.”
Elliot picks up his pen and holds it in his hand as he listens.
“What we didn’t realize was, that when we added the new WAP code it was going to completely override the system for the entire building.”
“Why didn’t you realize that?” Elliot stares at him blankly.
Joel shrugs.
“Isn’t it what I pay you for? An IT expert to stop an impending disaster before it comes to fruition.”
Joel goes to open his mouth and then shuts it again; his eyes flick to me for reassurance and I give him a stifled smile.
“Don’t look at Kathryn, look at me. Who specifically out of you three uploaded the system?”
“I approved it,” I reply.
“That’s not what I asked,” Elliot replies sharply. “Who uploaded this system?”
Fuck’s sake.
“I did,” Bob whispers.
Elliot sits back in his chair, and glares at Bob. “Tell me . . . Bob.” He sneers. “How many Miles Media employees are in this building?”
Bob swallows the lump in his throat. “Around two thousand, sir.”
“Two thousand, one hundred and seventy-one,” Elliot barks. “And what do you estimate the hourly wages are for that many people, Bob?”
Bob begins to perspire.
“Mr. Miles, with all due respect . . .” I say.
“Do. Not. Interrupt. Me. Kathryn,” he bellows.
We all wither in our seats.
“The hourly wages for this building alone are seventy-four thousand, nine hundred pounds.”
We all sit still. Fuck . . . get me out of here.
“Let’s multiply that by the three hours that I didn’t have any goddamn internet,” he growls.
Bob drops his head.
“That’s two hundred and twenty-four thousand and seven hundred pounds your incompetence has cost me.”
I exhale. Oh hell.
“Would you like me to deduct that from your salary?” He looks at the three of us.
We stay silent.
“Answer me!” he bellows.
“No sir,” we all reply.
He stands and leans on the desk with both hands as he glares at us. “And yet, you have deducted it from mine,” he growls. “Tell me why I shouldn’t terminate your contracts on the spot.”
He’s such an asshole.
I sit back, angered. “That’s fine with me, terminate my contract.”
Elliot narrows his eyes, his temper seconds away from an impending explosion. “Oh, you’d like that, wouldn’t you? Run away from your incompetence instead of facing the music. I don’t know why I would expect better.”
I roll my eyes.
“Do not roll your eyes at me,” he yells, making us all jump.
The door opens. Christopher pokes his head in and looks between us and fakes a smile. “Elliot, can I see you for a moment, please?”
“I’m busy,” he snaps.
“Now.” He widens his eyes.
Elliot marches from the room and the door clicks closed behind him. Bob and Joel slump in their seats.
“Don’t you dare resign,” Joel whispers.
“I agree,” Bob says.
“Screw this,” I whisper back. “I’m sick of his shit, he’s a fucking asshole. I’m out of here.”
“Calm down, he’s been like this for years. Why is it suddenly bothering you now?” Joel whispers.
Because I didn’t want to sleep with him then.
“I don’t know why he’s going on and on,” Bob whispers. “He makes two hundred thousand pounds every ten minutes.”
The door reopens and Elliot walks in, takes his seat, his composure completely restored.
Christopher Xanax Miles: he’s the only one who can calm Elliot and his temper.
I’ve seen it many times.
Elliot picks up his pen and sits back as he looks between us. “This is not to happen again, do I make myself clear?”
“Yes,” the three of us reply.
“I’m disappointed. When I pay for the best, I expect the best.” He exhales heavily as he looks between us and tosses his pen onto the desk as if giving up. “You may return to your offices.”
We all stand.
“Kathryn, you stay back. I need to see you as regards to the prospectus you sent through.”
My anger bubbles and I sit back down, biting the inside of my cheek to stop myself from saying something snarky like Fuck you and fuck right off.