The CEO and Her Driver

Chapter 2

"Anything else?" I asked reading her hesitancy.

"I was wondering..." She bit her lip. "If you had a chance to look over the designs I drew up." She rushed through the rest, in a tone of apology. "I mean, if you haven't that's totally fine. And if they are not good, then I'm sorry, but any notes you have would be—"

"Susan." She stopped talking and stared at the ground. "Do you believe in your work?" I asked.

She nodded as she continued to stare at the wood panel floor. She had been itching to move up at Winters, from my assistant to a role on the creative side. A month ago, she finally managed to work up the courage to ask me to look at her sketches.

"Use words Susan. It's a yes or no."

"Yes," she whispered.

"Look at me and say that," I pressed.

She looked up, a gleam of determination in her eyes. "Yes." The word sounded brittle, uncertain. But it was a start. If she was brave, I believed she could go far. She just needed to stop being so scared.

I nodded. "Then stand behind your work. Don't apologize for it."

I held up the file she had handed me. "I'll get to it. But I have to put out a fire first. Get Derik for me."

Susan couldn't seem to get out of the room fast enough. She looked nervous. Sharing your artwork was a personal thing. It was a sign of trust, a piece of yourself drawn out for others to see. I understood that. It was nerve-wracking asking your boss to look over your heart, offer advice and potentially tear it up while you watched, but even with her request, her jitteriness today was stranger than usual. She looked like I was going to bite her head off. I need to tell her to cut back on the coffee.

I stared down at Derik's file, a heavy groan filling my office with vocal dread. "I hate firing people."

I mentally prepared myself for the conversation. Firing someone on a Wednesday in the middle of the day was a terrible idea but based on what I had learned, he couldn't stay a minute longer.

Susan cleared her throat, pulling me from my thoughts as she reappeared at my door. "He um... he said he's not coming."

I tilted my head, trying to process her words. "I'm sorry?"

She looked away, trying to avoid being shot as the messenger stuck bringing me news I very much didn't want to hear. "He said to tell you he has too much work to have a chat in your office."

"Is he aware it isn't a suggestion?"

Susan nodded. I stood with a sigh, swearing internally. It's going to suck whether I talk to him in my office or at his desk.

I offered Susan a forced, hopefully encouraging smile, trying to work on my nice levels. "Why don't you take your lunch break?" I stopped when I reached the hall. "Oh and call security. I have a feeling we are gonna need them."

Susan's eyes went wide. "Really?"

I nodded. "Things are about to get messy." I'm gonna need a full freaking pint of Ben & Jerry's ice cream tonight. No, not a pint. A 2.4 gallon tub.

As I walked towards Derik's desk, I tried to decide if knowing the exact size of the largest ice cream container that Ben & Jerry's carried was sad or impressive. I'll go with sad. Fits the mood.

"Derik," I said as I found the black-haired designer sitting with his feet up on his desk in our open floor plan office. He glanced up from where he sat watching Devil Wears Prada on his computer. He threw a skittle into the air and caught it in his mouth before looking up at me with a cocky smirk.