Page 71 of The Problem with Princes
I clench my hand into a fist, pushing courage from the tips of my fingers into the rest of my body. Why am I worried? I know my stuff. I am going to get my first project as a lobbyist. And I’m going to kill it and finally show these people what I’m made of.
I smile as I approach Deloris’s desk. She returns my smile, but it is brittle and forced. Even a bit confused. It seems someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning.
“What are you doing here? We didn’t expect you back until tomorrow.”
“I was able to finish up early with my witness stuff and so I came home last night. I saw the note on my computer.” Yes, it was a lie, but I didn’t have to come in today regardless of why I came home early, so I don’t feel guilty about it.
“That was meant for tomorrow. Let me check his schedule for today.” She narrows her eyes and types something into her computer. Then she looks up at me. “Have a seat, Miss Martindale.”
I smile again and nod, taking a seat to the side of Deloris’s desk. I glance at her from the corner of my eye. She called me Miss Martindale. We’ve been on a first-name basis for a long time. What’s with the formality? Is it because of this project?
She looks up from her computer screen. “Mr. Wainwright will be with you in a moment. He’s just finishing up a meeting.”
“Thanks,” I smile. I wish I hadn’t left my phone in my purse. At least then I can look like I am doing something. As it is, all I can do is fidget with the cording accent on the edge of my jacket.
Mr. Wainwright’s door opens, and all the partners and executives walk out. Several glance in my direction, but they don’t return my smile. My stomach twists, but I’m not sure why. Maybe it’s because the whole office has had a drink from the grumpy juice this morning.
Deloris looks up from her computer. “Mr. Wainwright is ready for you now, Miss Martindale.”
“Thanks, Deloris.” I walk a few steps and then stop. “I really like your blouse. That’s a good color on you.”
She raises a brow, like she’s trying to tell if I’m lying to her. Finally, she just gives me a half-smile. “Thank you.”
I walk into Mr. Wainwright’s office and sit down in the chair across from him. He stares at me, his hands clasped together and tapping on the desktop. I run my tongue over my teeth discreetly. Do I have a poppy seed stuck in my teeth? Ugh. Why had I eaten the poppyseed muffin instead of the bran?That was an amateur move, Grace.
I smile expectantly at him. January in Utah seems warmer than his look. I lean back as far as the chair back will allow. Something’s not right.
“How was your trip, Miss Martindale.” His tone lacks any warmth and I sense he doesn’t really care about my answer. Or maybe he does, and the question is a test. But a test for what?
“It was wonderful,” I smile wide, both because of the memories and to hopefully convince him to smile in return. “Except for the whole attempted murder thing. But I’m trying not to let that mar an otherwise great vacation.”
He doesn’t say anything, nor does he return my smile. This doesn’t seem to bode well.
I cross my legs at the knee and clasp my hands around it. Swallowing hard, I look around his office because I can’t watch his face any longer. It’s only making the knots in my stomach tighten.
“I’m all set to start on that project we discussed.” I sound a bit too chipper, but I’m totally in reactionary mode here.
“About the project…” He looks down at a file folder on his desk. I lean forward, trying to see what the name is on the tab. “I was planning to put you on this project.” He holds up the folder and I can see the name. I let out a little gasp. Penderhill Plastics. That is a big account. I can’t believe my first project is with Penderhill.
I smile at him. Wait. What did he say? Hewasplanning? That makes it sound like something has changed. My smile falters.
“However, that was before I saw theincidentyou witnessed in the Harold. I’ve now decided, and the rest of the executives agree, to make some changes.”
His voice does not hold a promotion kind of vibe. I grip the arms of the chair. And what do the photos in the paper have to do with the project? Why did he emphasize the word incident? With the way he said it, I’m surprised he didn’t use air quotes.
“Miss Martindale. This company…this vocation we practice here, requires integrity. I expect it from our clients and especially those we employ.”
I nod my head. “I completely agree.” Even though I have no idea what this has to do with my project.
“When we discover one of our own showing a complete lack of integrity, we have no choice but to let that person go.”
I nod again. Totally understandable.
“That is why I, or rather we—all of the partners and managers—feel we have no choice but to let you go.”
I squint at him. “Excuse me?” It almost sounds like he is firing me.
“I cannot trust an employee who tells me they are required to stay on vacation because they witnessed a crime, when in fact they are only staying so they mayplaya little longer.”
