The Night I Got Lucky. Laura Caldwell
she said. A rush went through my body.
I thought about Alexa blaming her bad work on others and the way she taunted me with not being promoted. “Two weeks,” I said with what I hoped was an authoritative tone.
An hour later, the power surging even stronger through my veins, I phoned Alexa and asked her to come see me.
“Hey,” Alexa said, appearing in my doorway. She crossed her arms casually and leaned on the frame, but her expression was suspicious.
I said hello, and asked her to sit. My body was nearly twitching with nervousness, excitement and shock at what I was about to do.
Alexa glanced around my office as she slipped into a chair. “Nice place,” she said. She shook her head a little, her face saying, I can’t believe you’re a VP. That look irritated me—like everything about Alexa—but I could hardly believe it myself.
“I need to talk to you about something.” My words faltered then. How, exactly, did you go about firing someone? I’d read the company HR manual. I knew the few key phrases I was supposed to say and how to explain what would happen to her benefits and such, but with her sitting in front of me, I couldn’t think of how to start.
“Is it the Channel 7 News account?” she said. “You probably need help with the budget recommendations. You’re not exactly proficient with that.” Her mouth twisted into a smirk I was all too familiar with. “I’d be happy to review the figures for you.”
And with that, the words rushed into my brain, all waiting like soldiers in perfect formation, ready to march. “It’s not the news account,” I said. “It’s you.”
Alexa tossed her hair over her shoulder, her eyes wary. She said nothing.
“You see,” I continued, “your attitude has become a problem.”
“Is that right?” Still, the smirk rested comfortably on her mouth.
“Yes, that’s right.” My voice became stronger. “You tend to be condescending. You push projects off on other people. And your attitude makes it very hard to work with you.”
“Really? Well, I’ll try to improve on it, okay? Thanks for the chat.” She began to stand.
“Alexa, please sit down.” My voice was still strong.
She sank back into the chair and sighed as if she were barely tolerating me.
“Alexa, I have to tell you that we’re letting you go.” My skin tingled with the words. I was firing her.
The perma-smirk disappeared. “What?”
“Yes, I’m sorry, but as you know, you already have two warnings in your personnel file.” I made a show of looking at the piece of paper where this was documented. “First, there was the comment you made to the president of Ryder Sports Network when you said—” I glanced at the paper again “‘—go fuck yourself.’”
“He grabbed my ass.”
I blinked. I hadn’t known about that. I would have said the same thing. “Yes, well…” I nearly faltered. “I’m sure you could have handled it better.”
Alexa’s eyes were steely now.
“And then there was Miss Martha,” I said.
“Clara was the one who was supposed to check the last copy.”
“Clara was working under you, correct?”
Alexa said nothing.
“So, that was your responsibility,” I continued, the rush surging back. “Due to these past problems and those I mentioned with your attitude, we’re letting you go.”
“What?”
“You’ll get two weeks severance.”
“That’s it? That’s insulting.”
“I’m sure you’ll find another position during—”
“I want to talk to Roslyn,” she interrupted.
“I’m sorry, Alexa, but the decision has been made. It’s done.” The words sounded strong, confident, managerial.
“You’re not sorry.” The anger in her voice startled me.
She was right. My whole body was humming from the experience, so I kept talking, filling her in on the termination of her benefits, how she would have twenty-four hours to clean out her desk. She sat rigid, looking at me with what I could only assume was intense hatred. I talked faster and faster. Finally, I asked her to sign the severance agreement.
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