Page 121 of The Worst Best Man
“Was my father bothering you?”
“Not really. He’s quite polite with the ‘you’re not good enough for my son’ spiel.”
Aiden’s eyes narrowed. “I’ll speak to him.”
She shook her head. “You don’t need to. I told him he better get used to me because I’ve been poking holes in our condoms for weeks, and it’s only a matter of time before he has a grandchild to deal with.”
His booming laugh drew the attention of guests nearby. “Are you ready to go?” Aiden asked, lifting his fingers to toy with one of her earrings.
“God, yes. My feet hurt, and if one more idiot tries to get to you through me, I’m going to break a bottle of Cristal over their smug face.”
“Just give me a head’s up so I can have my attorney on call.”
“Why can’t people just talk to you and ask you for shit?” Frankie muttered.
“Because I’m very powerful and intimidating. And because they see that you have influence over me.”
“Can I influence you to pick up some Thai food on the way home?”
Chapter Forty-Six
“Was it a blood bath?” Oscar asked, handing Aiden a bottle of headache meds as he passed his desk.
“Worse,” Aiden said, fighting the pain that bloomed behind his eyes. Worthington Financial, an accounting consulting firm, hadn’t taken his CIO candidate search criteria seriously and had presented him with the same old, white guys. It had pissed him off enough that Aiden pulled a team off of the sale they were neck-deep in so they could dissect the corporate structure.
With a little digging and some precisely applied pressure, Aiden discovered a rotting culture of harassment and misogynistic behavior. He’d fired seven of the company’s top managers within half an hour. With the newly departeds’ threats of lawsuits still echoing in his ears, Aiden had called a company-wide meeting and announced an immediate restructuring. Two administrative assistants had burst into tears while thanking him. And a junior vice president—exactly the kind of person he wanted for chief information officer—rescinded the resignation that she’d tendered two days ago.
He ordered an independent HR consultant into the wreckage to deal with the internal fallout and warned Kilbourn Holdings lawyers that there was a situation.
“Sacked them all?” Oscar asked. The man loved two things in life. His partner Lewis and juicy corporate gossip.
“Most of them.” Aiden noted the time on his watch. His two afternoon meetings had been juggled into a hasty conference in the car and a late dinner, during which his headache prevented him from eating anything. “It’s late. You should go before Lewis comes looking for you.”
“I’m meeting him for drinks to celebrate another week of his mother not moving in with us.” Oscar pulled his coat from the rack and slid into it. “Don’t work too late,” he reminded Aiden. “I’m sure there’s a Brooklyn girl waiting for you somewhere.”
Just the thought of Frankie lifted Aiden’s spirits. She had a catering gig tonight. One of her last, so they wouldn’t see each other. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t call her.
“Go home, Oscar,” he said again. “And first thing in the morning, you can help start the search for all new senior management. Maybe we can cherry-pick from our own backyard first.”
“Of course. I’ll also be happy to make sure the ones you sacked are unemployable anywhere else.”
“You’re a mean Frenchman, aren’t you?” Aiden said, with a weak smile.
“The meanest.”
Aiden watched Oscar saunter toward the elevators. The rest of the offices were dark. It was nearly nine, and Aiden still had a few hours of work to catch up on. If he could get ahead of the headache… and stop thinking about the events of the day.
Two of the men had cried when he’d pulled the trigger. None were innocent, but there was something unsatisfying about punishing someone who felt like a victim.
“I have two kids in college,” one had pleaded.
“Then you shouldn’t have ordered HR to ignore the complaints against you and your colleagues,” Aiden had said briskly. He was efficient and cold. Merciless. It was more intimidating that way when he treated people like gnats who mattered too little to bother getting angry over.
On the inside, he was anything but cold. These men had created a work environment so hostile that it was a wonder they had any employees left.
It was the right decision. Perhaps a bit abrupt, but it would set the tone for the coming year. They were a new acquisition, and this was the fastest way to send the message that Kilbourn Holdings would not tolerate anything less than equality, anything other than fairness.
Having to defend his decision to his father on the phone hadn’t helped.
