Page 36 of Love is a Game

Chapter Thirteen

“The assistant manager has to be let go.” Archer’s voice cut through the stillness of Andrew’s office the next afternoon. Sadie let out a slow breath and rested her elbows on the desk.

It wasn’t unexpected, but that didn’t make it any easier to hear. Her job was to find problems and recommend solutions and sometimes that meant personnel changes. The year before, an entire dining staff had been laid off based on her recommendations to close a poorly performing hotel restaurant. She didn’t eat for two days afterward.

“You think so?” she asked, rubbing a thumb against her temple.

“Based on your reports, it sounds like he’s outstayed his welcome. I want you to take care of that as soon as possible. Are you going to be on-site tomorrow?”

“I was planning on it.”

“Great. I recommend you get in touch with HR first thing in the morning; get it out of the way. The GM should be able to handle things while they find a replacement.”

“Okay. Do I need to include her in the meeting?”

“That’s up to you. You can have her do it if you want; it doesn’t have to come from you,” Archer offered.

“No, I’ll do it.”

She could never outsource this part of her job, as much as she hated it. If she was going to be responsible for someone’s unemployment, she felt like she owed it to them to deliver the news herself, and the one thing she could do to soften the blow was to keep the general manager out of it so she and her longtime employee would have a chance to part on good terms.

“Other than that, it looks like you’re making some effective changes out there,” Archer said brightly. “Your request to paint the exterior has been approved. You should be getting more information on that later this week.”

“Great, thank you.” She felt a pit growing in her stomach. Archer may be able to brush off the layoff, but she knew she’d be thinking about it for the rest of the night.

“Oh, and one last thing; I just heard the news. They went with an outside hire for the brand director. Sorry, Sadie.”

She swallowed the lump in her throat and managed to say, “Okay. Thanks for telling me.”

“You’ll get it next time,” he assured her. The words might have been comforting if she hadn’t heard them from him so many times before. “I saw you put your name in last week for that job in Austin. Don’t you know how hot it gets there? You’re not that desperate to get out of here, are you?”

“Oh, no. It’s not like that,” she began, trying to blink back the burning in her eyes. She wouldn’t sacrifice her professionalism to her emotions. She’d never cried at work before. Not around a colleague at least.

“I’m kidding. Honestly, I’m not sure it’s the best fit for you but we’ll see how it goes, I guess. You still on schedule for that presentation with acquisitions?”

She plastered a wide smile on her face, hoping it would keep her voice from shaking. “I’m working on it as we speak,” she said as brightly as she could.

“Great. Can’t wait to have you back in the office for a couple days. Good luck tomorrow.”

As soon as the call ended, her smile fell, and tears began to slide down her cheeks. She looked up at the ceiling in an attempt to quell them but it was too late. Her interview with the branding department had gone so well, she was sure she would get the job. Of course, she’d been sure about the last job too. And the one before that. Archer often told her that she was the best in his department, and he always gave her the toughest assignments. She had hoped that with her record and his recommendation, promoting would be easy, but one after another, she watched the jobs she wanted given to somebody else.

When her tears proved to be more than her sleeves could handle, she looked around the room for a tissue. There weren’t any in the office so she dug through her purse. She didn’t think she could make it to the bathroom without anyone seeing her, but that might be her only option. She dropped her purse when her search came up empty, sniffing noisily.

“Whoa, hey. What’s wrong?”

She jumped at the sight of Andrew in the doorway.

“It’s nothing. I’m fine,” she said unconvincingly, avoiding eye contact. “Just the dust probably.”

She turned away from him and wiped at her face as she waited for the snarky comments to come. Instead, he sat down in the chair across from her and held out a white handkerchief. She eyed it suspiciously.

“It’s clean,” he assured her.

She was careful not to touch him as she took the cloth from his hand—she wasn’t really in a position to turn it down—and dabbed at her eyes.

He leaned closer, his eyes serious, and asked, “Bad case of the Mondays?”

She snorted into the handkerchief. It was a stupid joke, but it got her smiling and the tears finally stopped. “Actually, it’s Tuesday; that’s the problem,” she told him.