Page 6 of A Good Girl's Guide to Dominance
Groans and gasps crescendo through the space as people start to look around for answers that aren’t there. Mr. Thomas gives it a second before continuing.
“This may come as a shock to most of you,” he says, his face flushing from the chagrin of his next words, “but I am being indicted on money laundering charges. At the advice of my lawyer, I will not be speaking on the matter, but this clearly presents a major problem for me and my family.”
The gasps and groans rise to a roar.
“Try not to get bogged down by the details,” Mr. Thomas says with a raised hand that he hopes will quiet the crowd. “Just know that it has been an absolute pleasure to run this company, and I’m sorry that it has come to this.
“What’s most important to you all isn't that I’m leaving, it’s who you will be working for going forward. There have been a lot of internal discussions as to who will be my successor, and plenty of names were thrown in the hat by myself and the board, including the current VP of Marketing, Miss Sierra Martinez.”
Sierra, who is standing at the very front of the crowd in a navy blue pantsuit, suddenly drops her head.
“It was a very tough decision, to say the least, however, it was decided that we would go another route,” Mr. Thomas says. “We thought it best that the company get a new shot of adrenaline to catapult it forward. I only want the best for the company I built, and the current department heads are absolutely brilliant at their jobs. I don't want to derail the progress that has already been made. So, with that being said, I’d like to announce that Sandcastle has been sold and will be under new ownership. The new Chief Marketing Officer will be here tomorrow. His name is Rome Giovanni.”
Groans turn to whispers as frustration, confusion, and worry spark to life and spread like wildfire amongst the Sandcastle employees.
“Let me assure you all,” Mr. Thomas goes on, “that no one has to be worried about losing their job. The mistakes I’ve made will not cost any of you the careers you worked so hard for. At least, that is the assurance Mr. Giovanni has given me. He’s a businessman, and I expect that he will keep his word. The change taking place is happening at the top, and at the top only.
“Sandcastle has had great days and bad days. I’m sorry for the bad ones, and I’m grateful for the great. I hope I was a good boss to you all. My sons and I have learned so much from you, and I know all of you will go on to do magnificent things. I’m sorry it has to end this way, but you're in good hands going forward, and I hope all of us will land on our feet. Thanks very much.”
With that, Mr. Thomas and his sons pick up their boxes and begin making their way out. People tap them on the shoulder and quietly wish them the best as they depart, but in just a few seconds, it all ends. The three of them walk out of the building, flanked by the uniformed officers who escorted them in. The door closes behind them and the entire office is frozen in a state of confusion and shock. Jeremiah looks at me with wide eyes, and all I can do is shake my head.
There are a million questions still left unanswered by the impromptu announcement, and while I desperately want to know how things are going to be different for Sandcastle, there’s another question I’m dying to ask. There’s an answer we all need before anything else happens.
Who the hell is Rome Giovanni?
Four
“Money laundering?”
“I know, right? It’s insane,” I reply, lowering my face to the oversized margarita in front of me and taking a big sip from the straw.
Jazmine sits across from me with a margarita of her own, still wearing her work clothes—a beautiful royal blue skirt with a white blouse. Her hair is straight and hanging down just past her shoulders, and her makeup is flawlessly applied, putting her gorgeous, blemish-free face on full display for the entire Al Pastor restaurant to see. I’m so glad she agreed to meet me here for drinks after work, because the craziness of my day at Sandcastle was enough to drive anyone to alcohol. The restaurant hums with the voices of people chatting and chowing down on Mexican food, but Jaz and I are only here for the drinks.
“I’m sure Jeremiah was in there cutting up as he watched that scene unfold,” she says, fiddling with the orange slice hanging off the side of her glass.
I laugh. “You know he was. Then again, everybody was really in awe. After they left, I don't think anyone got any work done. All we could do was talk about it.”
“Was there any more information about the money laundering? He can’t just say that and then dip out.”
“But he did. He said he caught money laundering charges and that his lawyer told him not to talk about it, and he never brought it up again. I tried to press Sierra for answers, but you know how much of a bitch she is. As usual, she gave us nothing, so we were left to discuss it amongst ourselves and google his name to see what came up.”
“And?” Jaz asks, staring at me with wide eyes, fully invested.
“It was vague,” I answer. “There was an indictment on money laundering linked to gambling, but they didn't go into detail about it because the case and investigation are ongoing. There wasn't anything in the article about where he was gambling or how much, and I guess the sale of the company was too recent because it wasn't mentioned at all. We were all pissed because we wanted to know about the guy Mr. Thomas sold the business to. I guess we'll find out when he shows up tomorrow.”
Jaz frowns. “Mr. Thomas didn't say anything about him?”
“Only that he will be here tomorrow,” I answer. “Searching his name didn't give us anything either, which I think is odd. I really hope Larry didn't sell us to some asshole who is going to run the place into the ground.”
“Well if he did, you can always come work with me.”
“Girl, you know I don't know a thing about banking.”
“Yeah, but that’s the good thing about me being the manager of First Philadelphia—I can hire who I want,” Jaz informs me proudly, wearing her recent promotion very well. “If Larry Thomas can bring in his sons to work at Sandcastle, I can hire my best friend to work at my bank. We can do a friend's version of nepotism.”
“Well, you’ve got a point there,” I say. “Let’s just hope the guy isn't a piece of shit and it doesn't come to that.”
“Make sure you call me tomorrow. I’m going to want to hear all about this new boss.”
