Page 52 of Filthy Little Fix
"It's the end of the world, Leo!" Chad wails, grabbing my shoulders with a strength his flabby arms shouldn't have. "A disaster! A corporate apocalypse!"
I look at his hand on my shoulder. Why the hell is he touching me? He doesn't seem to notice.
Before I can tell him to let go, Nicole approaches. She has smudges of smeared mascara under her eyes. "Leo! Accounting! All of them!" she says, pointing to a corner of the floor where more cardboard boxes accumulated. "They just got an email! Contract termination! Security is already waiting at the door to escort them out."
Chad releases me to run his hands through his hair, making his comb-over even worse. "It's not just Accounting—Sales too! We've beenbought, Leo. Out of nowhere. The company was sold."
So that's it. An acquisition. The capitalist life cycle; bigger fish eating smaller ones.
I almost yawn. If they get rid of the IT sector and the Volkovs release me to a facade of normalcy, I'll have to find another hole to slowly waste away in—I need at least one source of legitimate income that doesn't involve working for the mafia. Thinking about the possibilities drains my energy. Looking for a jobopening. Updating my resume. Going to job interviews, telling the interviewer they should hire me so I don't get arrested and that I see myself in a grave in five years.
"They're firing everyone," Nicole continues. "No one knows who's next. Brenda from reception said the new owners are ruthless."
Chad then turns to me. The expression on his face is one of such absurd expectation it's comical. He looks at me as if I were a prophet, a general about to draw up the battle plan that will save everyone.
"Leo, my champ," he says softly. "You're calm. You're the smartest guy in IT. What do we do? What's the play? There has to be a way to get around this, a plan…"
I stare at him. Does he expect me to type a line of code that will reverse a multibillion-dollar acquisition? His stupidity is almost an art form. He genuinely believes that because I can fix the printer when it's unplugged, I can stop a corporate restructuring.
His pathetic hope is the most depressing thing I've seen today. And that includes the cardboard boxes.
I look at Chad's pleading face, at Nicole's panic, and shrug.
"Update your resume, I guess."
The hope on his face wilts. "What? But… you're our ace! Our genius!"
I turn, looking for my cubicle.
"Where's my fern?"
The question is so out of place amidst the panic that Nicole blinks, confused. "Your fern? It's in my cubicle. I watered it while you were sick."
"We're talking about the end of our careers and you're worried about a plant?!" Chad says.
I ignore him. Good to know it's alive. I peek into Nicole's cubicle and see the tips of its little leaves.
"Who are the new owners?" I ask. I don't care, but data is data.
"No one knows," Nicole whispers, as if a ghost were our mysterious buyer. "We only know the name of the holding company that made the purchase. It was in the internal memo HR sent before the email system crashed. That foreign holding… I think V-Corp or something."
Wait.
V-Corp.
V.
Volkov?
The apathy shatters, and the fog of boredom dissipates instantly. It can't be. The audacity. Thescaleof it.
My posture changes. My shoulders straighten. Chad and Nicole continue to babble, but the sound of their voices becomes background noise.
I brush past Chad with a shove.
"Hey! Where are you going? What about our plan?" he shouts behind me.
I need to check this.
