Reaching Lily. Vivacia Ahwen K
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is, Mr Colossimo just couldn’t think of any other positive news to report besides the success of our new DVD. That was just sad. What was a ‘slight drop’, anyway? A drop was a drop, we were looking at summer, when people obsessively exercise for bikini season, and our sales should have been rising. Significantly rising. Our club memberships were too expensive, our equipment was too expensive, we hadn’t done anything remotely cool in a gazillion years, and … now we were just another jungle-gym, yo.
Sorry, just channelling the Funky Bunch.
‘… despite what I see as a heckofalotta positive change.’ Colossimo sighed, drumming the table. ‘Just remember that I’m your guy. There’s one supervisor in the office, and it’s Mr Colossimo. Period. The end. End of story. Finito!’
Was Mr Colossimo speaking of himself in the third person again? Uh-oh.
‘Whoever this clown is from “Corporate”, you check with me before running off to do his bidding. I am your boss. Period.’ He stood up. ‘Are we clear?’
We all nodded, except for New Joey in HR, who raised his hand. ‘Sir?’
‘What do you want?’ Mr Colossimo’s face had begun to grow red. ‘I’m trying to run a meeting here.’
‘May I be excused to use the restroom?’ His voice squeaked from what I assumed was intimidation by our asshole boss. Poor kid.
‘Whattaya think this is, grade school?’ Colossimo waved a hand dismissively. ‘Go.’
And so the next fifteen minutes crept by. Handouts with charts, photocopies of some bullshit article about ‘team-building’ and STRETCHING AFTER ONE HOUR NOW REQUIRED BY DEPARTMENT OF LABOR flyers were passed around. Each department from my floor gave its discouraging report, and I tried desperately not to nod off. Until the door swung open, and banged loudly as it smacked against the wall.
Holy hell.
Adonis – yes, that one, as in riding the morning T – strode into the room, all piss, vinegar and Armani anger.
Cool anger, though.
Oh, yeah. He’s had this one.
Gwen shot me one of her ‘I don’t friggin’ believe it’ looks.
Nor did I. Believe it, that is. Synchronicity? What –
Adonis gestured with his thumb toward the door, which must’ve nearly come off its hinges. ‘Colossimo.’
‘This is a private meeting. I don’t –’
‘Out. Now.’ Adonis Trainman clutched his briefcase tighter, and some horrid part of me hoped he would sling it at my boss. Please, Lord. I haven’t prayed in a long time, but …
Mr Colossimo stood up to his full height, which wasn’t much taller than mine, actually. ‘What? Who in the name of God do you think you are?’
Good question! We were all ears. And all other things, as well; the entire female staff, including yours truly, were squirming in our seats, trying to dry off our Inner Goddesses.
The man stepped closer to Mr Colossimo, held out his ID tag, narrowed his eyes and proclaimed, ‘Dorian Holder, CEO.’
Dorian Holder, CEO was a good foot taller than my boss.
I frigging loved this.
‘Who –’
‘Holder Enterprises. Remember, those little people who own Apollyon?’ Dorian Holder, CEO lifted his chin. ‘Us. Me, rather.’
Oh, man. Someone got served …
‘And you’re fired.’
How could anyone say a classic Trumpism like that, yet still be so unbelievably sexy?
‘On what grounds?’ blustered Mr Colossimo. ‘This is wrongful termination!’
‘Insubordination, motherfucker.’
Yeah, my Adonis totally did this, and then looked at the rest of the Apollyonians, as though seeing us for the first time.
And then his eyes rested on me.
No, really.
I gulped.
He raised one eyebrow.
At least, I think he did.
‘Pardon my language,’ he said, not sounding sorry. OK. That there was a wink. And that wink was at me, no question. Absolutely positively true story. He knew I found him amazing. Not that every other woman in the room didn’t feel the same way, but I must have looked particularly starry-eyed.
Oh, and know what? That was the first time ‘motherfucker’ was ever uttered within the walls of the Apollyon conference room. I loved this shit. Dorian Holder, CEO was so totally our hero. This time we did applaud, unprompted, accidental and no brownie-hounding about it, starting with that slow-clap thing you see in the movies. It happened, and it was brilliant.
But Dorian Holder, CEO didn’t seem to notice. Or care. ‘Are you going to leave willingly, or will I have to call security?’
‘That … that …’ Mr Colossimo pointed vaguely at the wall. ‘It was the new HR guy, wasn’t it? He was a mole.’
‘Are you speaking of Joey Danforth? Yeah, he was. He is, rather. I’ll certainly be keeping him around.’ Dorian Holder, CEO actually grinned, just like on the subway. ‘You hired him, friend. Now get out of my conference room.’
Mr Colossimo gave us one last glance. His face was beet red, and his eyes were pink as a bunny rabbit. ‘Traitors,’ he snapped. Then he shrugged into his polyester-blend sports coat, buttoned over his generous tummy and schlumped out the door, defeated. For a second I felt bad for him.
Really, it was just for a second.
Apollyon LLC? Well, we had a new commander-in-chief, and he had our full undivided.
Dorian Holder is prepossessing to the point of ridiculous. In every possible way.
But at that moment, as I hadn’t any inkling of what a Dorian Holder was, his crashing the party was enough to rock my world … almost as much as his magical glow. You know what? My bets were on Mr Holder being crazy as Colossimo, yet in a far more interesting way: smarter, hotter, scarier. Already I couldn’t wait to witness the next thing he found remotely OK to say or do.
‘Well, then.’ Mr Holder’s walk, though confident, was graceful and catlike. No, make that lionesque. The man was clearly king of the forest. When Dorian Holder reached the far end of our table, he dropped his crazily expensive briefcase, picked up Mr Colossimo’s yellow legal pad, gave the scribbled notes a brief squint, then tossed them over his shoulder.
The list of all Mr Colossimo’s News That’s Fit To Print fluttered to the floor, like a giant, dead, swallow-tailed butterfly.
‘I’m told you’ve been briefed on the new regime at Apollyon.’ He rolled his eyes. ‘While I’m only going to be here for a few weeks until we clean up this mess, there’s going to be some major changes, just as your former president promised. Permanent changes.’
Mr Dorian Holder, CEO drummed the table with all ten fingers. His fingers were extremely fast, long and thick. I leaned forward, along with the other Apollyonians sharing this space, which suddenly felt tiny, stuffy and hot.
‘Vice President Babcock – I kinda liked the guy, for the record – left you a few months ago, so there’s no second in command. For now, I am indeed going to be the captain of the ship, and some of you will get thrown overboard. Period.’
All the smiles around the table faded.
Ruh-roh, Scooby.
‘At least, until our profit margin goes back up to where it had been. It’s nothing personal, but as we are all professionals,