Page 97 of A Little Too Late
I watch the door, half tempted to leap out of my chair and chase after Reed.
But I don’t have to. Reed comes in, his face flushed. He takes the only empty seat at the table, which is beside his father.
Then he looks me right in the eye and mouths two words:I tried.
I hold his gaze to tell him I understand, and I give him a sad little smile.
He tilts his head and gives me a warmer one. Then he mouths:I love you.
And I grin in spite of the crappy circumstances. The Madigans’ lawyer is calling the meeting to order, and I reluctantly turn my attention to him. “Let’s review final changes,” he says, looking at his Rolex. “I estimate about ten minutes for this. First point was section two, paragraph C…”
I look around the table, taking in the faces. The Sharpes look smugly satisfied. As always. Mark Madigan looks fidgety, and he keeps sneaking glances at his son.
Don’t sign, I mentally telegraph.You don’t have to do this.
Then my gaze moves to Melody. I expect to see her smiling, but she looks pale.
The lawyers are doing their lawyer thing, and I feel as though I’ve been strapped into a roller coaster that my friends talked me into riding. We’re slowly climbing toward the first big drop, and there’s nothing I can do about it but hang on and try not to scream.
Maybe I won’t even sign the stupid employment contract. They won’t fire me. Not immediately, anyway. And it would send the signal that I can’t be pushed around.
Hell. Maybe I’ll take a quick trip to California with Reed. Thereareother hotels in the world I could run. He wasn’t wrong about that.
Even if none of them could ever be quite so special as Madigan Mountain.
I take a deep breath and remind myself that it could still be okay. I’m going to be the manager. I’m still getting my promotion. And everyone works for an asshole some time in her career, right?
“The last matter on my list,” the Madigans’ lawyer drones, “is an employment contract for Ava Aichers.” He looks up at me. “Have you been provided with a contract?”
I hesitate a half second. “Yes.”
Reed straightens. “Does it meet the terms set forth in our deal notes?”
Oh boy. All eyes are on me now. “Not exactly,” I say, opting for the truth.
“It’ssubstantiallythe same,” Trey argues. “She can take it up with me after this meeting.”
I swallow hard.
“What’s different about it, Ava?” Reed asks. “Can I see?”
I don’t hand it over, but I do answer the question. “One year is notsubstantiallythe same as two years,” I say coolly. “And a provisional year-end bonus is not the same as a raise.”
Reed’s eyes narrow as he turns to look at Trey. “Fix it. Now.”
“Are we really going to hold up an eighty-million-dollar property agreement for a few thousand dollars in the manager’s contract?” Grandpa Sharpe asks. “That doesn’t seem like good business to me.”
Reed turns to Mark. “Dad,” he says quietly. “This isnotjust a few thousand dollars. It’s so much more than that.”
“No, it literally is,” Trey argues.
“Dad,” Reed repeats softly.
Mark closes his eyes and sighs. “Fix the contract or I won’t sign.”
As I slide the contract toward the Madigans’ lawyer, I ought to feel ecstatic, or at least grateful. Instead, I just feel like they’ve upgraded my coffin at the morgue.
Okay, that’s dark. But this feels like a hollow victory, nonetheless.
