Laura Caldwell - The Night I got Lucky

“Okay, that’s done, isn’t it?” Roslyn said at last. “ Lydia, anything you need?”

“Hmm?” Lydia said. She was fiddling with a paper napkin. “Oh. Well, I should mention that I’m going to be in New York again for most of the next month. If there’s anything you have to discuss with me-personnel issues or such-we should do it now.” She made it sound as if she were going to the Antarctic instead of the Ritz-Carlton in Manhattan.

Roslyn frowned at her for a second, then gave a slight shrug. “Well, there is Carolyn.”

Lydia lifted her eyebrows, or at least it seemed she was trying. “Who?”

“Our receptionist,” Roslyn said, as if talking to a five-year-old. “She’s been here for two years and keeps asking for a raise. Frankly, I think she deserves it.”

“Fine,” Lydia said. “Anything from you, Billy?”

I was about to say no. I’d been a VP for all of five hours, so what personnel or other issues could I possibly have? But then I thought of one. Alexa. I saw her smug face. I heard her voice say, Oh, I’m not suggesting that you handle this on your own…God, no. I heard her condescending laugh over and over.

So I said her name. “Alexa Villa.”

Roslyn frowned. I was about to do a U-turn and say there was really nothing wrong with Alexa, it was just a mistake, but Lydia sat straighter. “Ms. Villa, yes,” she said. “Tell me about her.”

“It’s just…” How to put this? I hadn’t officially formulated anything about Alexa in my head, I’d just stewed internally about it for years.

“Yes?” Lydia said with an encouraging nod. “Go ahead.”

And it all began to spill from my mouth.

I told Roslyn and Lydia exactly what I thought-that Alexa was constantly pushing off work on other people, that she didn’t respect authority, that she was rude and patronizing and very difficult to work with.

Roslyn looked a little troubled, and I wondered if I’d overstepped my new boundaries. I pushed salad around on my plate. The conference room was silent.

“I might be mistaken,” I said, about to take it all back and head for the hills. No need to screw up my new position by bringing up Alexa.

But then Roslyn spoke again. “I suppose I have noticed some of that. I just didn’t realize it was so bad.”

“Has this been documented?” Lydia asked.

“We’ve had a couple of issues with her,” Roslyn said. “A few years ago, there was a complaint from a client about a comment she made.”

“Mmm-hmm,” Lydia murmured.

“And then of course there was the incident with Miss Martha’s.”

“Good Lord, that’s right,” Lydia said.

Miss Martha’s was a famous Chicago bakery, and they’d enlisted us to promote the fact that they’d been chosen by the Today Show for having the best chocolate chip cookies in the country. Alexa was in charge of approving and sending out the press kits to media all over the United States. The title of the kit was supposed to be, “Miss Martha Sacks the Competition!” but Alexa failed to check the final copy properly, and the kits went out reading, “Miss Martha Sucks the Competition!” Needless to say, Miss Martha was no longer a client of Harper Frankwell.

“That was a grave error,” Roslyn said, “but I believe she’s improved greatly since then.”

“Has she brought in business?” Lydia asked.

“No,” Roslyn said, “but-”

“Well, you know the policy,” Lydia said. “It’s been in place since Bradley was here.” She gave a wistful smile at his memory. “If there are two written warnings in someone’s personnel file, that person can be terminated.”

I froze at the word “terminated.” Fire Alexa? I really just wanted her to get a corporate slap on the wrist, maybe a little demotion.

“Billy, you’re her immediate superior for the team,” Lydia continued. “If you truly believe she’s undermining our employees’ ability to do good work, then something should be done. Isn’t that right, Roslyn?”

Roslyn still had that slightly troubled look, but she nodded. “It’s your decision, Billy. But if you decide to do anything, that’s your responsibility, too. You’ll have to be the one to tell her.”

“Me?” I gulped. I had never handled any personnel issues before, much less fired someone. “Oh, I don’t know…I just-”

“Billy, it’s your responsibility,” Roslyn repeated.

I felt power surge through me. It scared me, and yet I loved it. “All right,” I said. “I’ll consider it.”

I went back to my office and mulled it over. I thought about how impossible Alexa was to work with. If I found her so difficult, others must too, and if that was the case, then wouldn’t it be easier for everyone if she wasn’t here? The firm wasn’t overloaded right now. We could spare her until we found someone else.

I went down the hall and spoke to our Human Resources director. Alexa, she told me, was entitled to severance due to the number of years she’d been at the firm. There was no employment contract, but according to our guidelines, it could be anything from two weeks severance to three months. Since she was being terminated for cause, it was my decision, 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.’”