Chapter 8

• 'On what grounds, Mr. Sinclair?', I asked tentatively, all attitude gone.
• 'I said I could, not would Ms. Anderson. Though I can say, we are cutting our most incompetent employees'
• Indirectly implying that I'm incompetent. I bristled at this suggestion.
• 'You couldn't do that. I never gave any reason to. I'm competent. I always stay late. I complete the work given to me.'
• 'Exactly that Ms. Anderson, the work given to you, which is not much'
• 'It's not my fault I wasn't given much', I answered.
• 'But it would be mine if I don't rectify this situation', he stated firmly.
• 'What are you trying to say, Mr. Sinclair?'
• 'I'm not trying but stating the fact that you are on my payroll with nothing much to do. And I don't like that, at all.'
• 'Are you going to fire me?', I questioned directly, tired of the footsie we are playing here.
• 'No Ms. Anderson'
• 'Then what?', I stared at him expectantly to no avail. One thing I found out of this conversation is, Mr. Sinclair likes others to squirm. He baits them and lets them squirm before reeling.
• 'I'm going to extract 3 years’ worth of work from you before doing any firing'
• 'I'm already doing that Mr. Sinclair', I deadpanned.
• 'Not that adolescents work', he waved his hand, which by the way is the only animated thing, besides that twitching eyebrow, he did till now.
• 'With all due respect Mr. Sinclair, my work may be silly, still, I do it with dedication', I glower.
• I shocked him with my statement it seems. There is a new respect for me in his looks, I think, but I'm not sure. Maybe it's in my head. Though he didn’t say anything, he just nods his head.
• 'I mean you are transferred to another position'
• 'Where? In which department?', I mentally catalog all the vacancies I know about in different departments. Nothing much, Hmm. Rose would probably know more. But why would the CEO personally call to deliver this? Maybe for the dressing down, he gave me an illusion of the interview.
• 'Here. As my second assistant', he said watching my face for any reaction.
• ' but doesn't it mean I would be promoted to a position beyond my qualifications? Is it fair to others who are hoping for this position? And why me?’, I shot him with my questions.
• He arched his eyebrow (ahh hey buddy, missed you there for a few minutes) and said, ' I appreciate your concern Ms. Anderson, but it's unwarranted. What I do with my company is my decision and no one else's '
• 'You don't answer, why me', I pointed out.
• 'That way I can watch you how dedicated you are- as you claimed to be', he replied sarcastically.
• Note to self- never give him stick to beat me with.
• 'You would be reporting to me, any work you do is given by me, you will take Vivian's place out there, starting from today you would be on my payroll 24/7. I don't care what you do in your free time, but when I call you, you answer- even if it is night 3 am, as simple as that. You would be given a new phone, he mentioned the name of a well-known company, I want you to monitor my schedule. You would screen all emails coming my way. I would receive the emails which are of utmost importance, nothing less than that. You would note MOM of every meeting I want you to sit.
• Every Friday an abstract of next week's meetings along with any important events should be briefed. Besides that, I also want to report at the end of every week on what has been done. Aside from that, you would be doing all the research on other companies, also comparing their product to ours. All the department's progress must be filed. And finally, I take my coffee black and my lunch from the deli around the corner block.'
• My head bombarded with all this information. Great, he just made me errand girl/ secretary/department manager/researcher/product analyst and not to forget those ends of the weekly reports. I can see myself dwindling on my desk.
• 'Any questions Ms. Anderson?'
• Yes. 'No Mr. Sinclair'
• 'When am I going to wither. I mean get my desk'
• He scowled, ‘You are not going to wither until you do all the work and your desk is already cleared by Vivian,'
• Thanks for your concern, I appreciate it, I mentally thought sarcasm dripping.
• 'Is that all Mr. Sinclair?', mentally crossing my fingers Not to add anything else to this catastrophe.
• 'You want more Ms. Anderson?'
• 'No. No. I'm good Mr. Sinclair. I will leave you to your work then. Have a nice day', I left his office exhaling my breath. What a day, and it's only 9:30. I can't believe it's only been 30min. Looked more than that.
• I reached my future desk and repressed a groan looking at my chair. It's sticky and wet on the seat from coffee. I bet my last penny she did it deliberately, though can't prove it. Hence the scowl when I entered, bombshell already knew about it. I don't like her idea of a welcome mat, but I can't do anything for now. Mr. Sinclair is already twitchy with me, can't complain on the first day.
• It took me 3 hours just to navigate through his schedule. My entire calendar can fit in his one-day block. What is he, robot? How can someone have this much to do. By the time lunch rolled around, my legs were killing me. I went to the deli and took his order (I don't want to mention to him that I forgot to ask, so I just said Mr. Sinclair’s order)
• When I reached his office with lunch, it's empty. Strange, why ask for lunch when he is going out. I set it aside and continued my work. By 6 pm I arranged everything for my liking so that I can work easily tomorrow. Mr. Sinclair has not arrived after lunch, there is no meeting that I know of. I canceled all his meetings and rescheduled important ones for tomorrow.
• I messaged my sister on my way home
• Are you free on Saturday?
• When I reached home, I still didn't get any reply from her. Maybe she is busy. I took a bath and changed into my pj's. I live in a three-room flat- kitchen, living room, bedroom. I started surfing the tv while I ate spaghetti- which I made by the way. One news channel caught my attention, it's reporting on the serial murder case. As I watched a picture appeared on the screen. I blinked, rubbing my eyes I watched again. But it still doesn't change. There it is my sister's laughing picture as the new victim.