Page 129 of Due Dilligence (Takeover)
“Then I’m still not getting the problem. I screwed up. I know that. I’m willing to take my lumps for it.” He gestured at the stacks. “And Ihave. Why am I still getting shit when Nathan desecrates a holy book, Ryan slings anti-Semitic slurs, they get vacation, and everything is fine?”
“You really want to know why?” Stephen leaned forward and spoke through his teeth. “This is what you get when you fuck the help, Todd. You’re not supposed to stick your dick into the competition.” Stephen’s lips curled at the end of that.
The words hit like a punch to the gut, hard enough that he couldn’t breathe.
“What’s to stop you from fucking the next guy we bring in?”
“I don’t... I’m not...” He grasped at words and none of them helped. Yeah, he was gay, but he wasn’t some kind of lecherous man-whore. “What makes you think I would? I’ve been here for years. We’ve had plenty of contractors through here.” He hadn’t touched a one. Never wanted to. He hated mixing work and relationships—but Fazil had been both from day one.
Stephen looked decidedly uncomfortable. “Nathan told me what he saw at that club.”
The hollow in Todd’s chest clashed with the rising tide of red in his vision. He gripped the armrests of the chair. Nathan again.
Who knew what he’d seen or what he’d told Stephen. Pretty sure no one had been in the alley, but their dancing had been pretty hot and heavy—both before and after. Especially after.
That was all moot now, since Fazil wouldn’t talk to him. Todd let out a breath. “Well, if it’s any consolation, I’m no longer on speaking terms with Fazil. If you want remorse...” He shrugged.
Stephen shifted in his seat and looked pleased, theasshole. He cleared his throat. “Your attitude still leaves much to be desired.”
“Apparently yes.”
Stephen handed him a piece of paper. “Here’s an outline of what we expect from you for the next month. If you can show a change in work habits and more respect for your coworkers and contractors, we can discuss your continued employment.”
Holy shit.They really were looking to fire him with cause. He glanced at the paper. “I see. Thank you.”
Stephen nodded in dismissal.
Todd pried himself out of the chair, collected his papers, and headed back to his cube.
He had no idea what to do next. None.
***
For the rest of the day Todd poked at the overwhelming number of tickets Stephen had assigned to him and picked out the easiest to deal with first. His heart wasn’t in work, though. It was buried under a mound of pain and anger and embarrassment.
He should have known they’d set him up for a fall, especially once his relationship with Fazil had been uncovered. Racism and homophobia were one thing—disloyalty was quite another.
He would’ve gone to Sandra, but she was away at the Singularity Storage board meeting, hopefully to help sell the company. There was no one to talk to about his predicament.
Chances were Stephen would let Todd go for having a relationship with Fazil. Havinghada relationship. Ex-boyfriend. Ex-friend.
He didn’t dare switch to personal e-mail—who knew what nannyware might have been installed on his machine—so he plunked away at work until the clock ticked into the evening hours and he’d made sure he’d put in a nice, solid nine hours.
The office was empty when he left. Like his car, his inbox, and his apartment. He ached to talk to Fazil. Hear his voice. Spill out his frustrations and annoyances. He’d tried calling out of desperation a few nights back, but the number went to voice mail and Fazil hadn’t returned the call.
“Fuck.” Todd turned his car over. He dreaded going home, but couldn’t mope in the parking lot all night. Everything in his apartment reminded him of those few perfect days. He should move, but he might not have a job in a few weeks.
When he parked his car in his apartment’s lot, his stomach growled. Given the way he hadn’t been eating, he wasn’t surprised. He’d hardly had the desire for anything other than coffee and beer with a sandwich here and there.
Beer it was. He locked the car and headed for a close, sedate bar. Last thing he needed was a meat market—too much temptation there for his destructive side. This place had decent food, quiet music, and nice staff. He ended up taking a seat at the bar because a table for one would have been too demoralizing.
“What’ll you have?” The bartender was young and blond. His type, normally, but he wasn’t in the mood to flirt at all, not withFazil, Fazil, Fazilringing in his heart and soul.
“Whatever beer is good and on tap.” He picked up the dinner menu.
“That describes all but three of our beers. You want an ale or a lager? Hoppy? Sweet?”
Todd snorted. “How about dark and bitter?”
