Chapter 2

Victors

Red… all I see is red, but I stay calm.

‘Breathing technique, Victors, just like the one from that YouTube video. It’s merely… pent-up emotions…’ my mind speaks vividly to me. It’s usually still and small, but even my subconscious is barely holding on.

“What do you mean, ‘…they asked for it’?” I ask the lanky blonde kid, his T-shirt resembling a hoodie. His dismissive shrug only infuriates me further.

“You will talk to me when I ask you a question.” I do everything humanely to keep my voice down, turning my demand into a growl.

“Well, what else is there to say, boss? Except that they had it coming? I politely asked them not to step on the freshly mopped floor…” he begins to defend himself, and his friend, who is almost the same build as he is, but much taller and with a deeper voice, joins in the protest.

“Absolutely, boss. The wet floor caution sign was properly placed for them to see, and there was ample space for them to go around… instead of making the work harder for us.”

Looking at them, it really concerns me I might have just hired a bunch of bearded fifteen-year-olds.

“So, you expected hotel guests to inconvenience themselves for you… simply because you don’t want to do a double down on the cleaning…” I want to make sure I’m getting the facts clear.

“I mean,” the taller one shrugs, “as long as it’s not an excessive request.”

“Yes, it is an unreasonable expectation,” I reply almost immediately.

“Well, they’re going to have to put up with an attitude, then.” The shorter dude mutters and starts walking away.

“This conversation isn’t over,” I inform him.

“I’m done.” He counters.

Enough is enough…

“The second you exit that door; I want you to come back here with your resignation letter and consider this month your last day of employment here.”

My words stop him dead in his tracks.

“No, sir… I…”

“That’s not what we meant, sir. It’s just… we need you to understand us.”

I scan the tag of the taller one to get his name. “Listen, Sam. I don’t give a flying fuck what you think is right, and I don’t give two shits if a customer is rude to you. Being rude to the customer is grounds for dismissal, and you’re on those grounds as we speak,” I grind out.

I take another bitter look at his tag and tear it off his shirt.

He wouldn’t be needing it anymore… the both of them.

In the background, his friend is contemplating the best way to approach me.

Too late.

“Boss, please, I can explain. What I meant was…”

“Get out.” I clench my teeth. He’s really irritating me.

“I’m really sorry, sir. I don’t want you to think…”

“Goddamnit!” My fists meet the hard wooden table in pure fury. How hard is it to understand simple instructions? “I don’t give a flying fuck what you must explain. I have made my verdict. Get… the fuck out!”

Standing with shaky feet, they both nod, their eyes portraying traces of defeat. From now on, they completely cease to be workers of this company.

It’s just what it is.

“Sir… if we can just put this whole thing behind us, I’m sure we could reach some sort of…” I put up a long index.

“This is your final warning… I don’t want to get security to extract you from the building. You’d be wasting their energy. Leave.” I’m slowly losing my thinking ability with these two idiots. They hurry out faster than I can blink afterward, chastising each other about what each had probably preplanned and should have said instead.

I wasn’t always used to this bossy lifestyle. It’s a trait I had to cultivate.

In an unusual twist, I even developed some level of anger within me just so I could have the moral conviction to yell at a person, especially an employee. It is a very tedious job that I usually like to avoid. Thank goodness I rarely must do it because most of them are well-behaved.

The downside to the rarity is that while there’s relief in not having to yell, I’m usually ill-prepared for when I really must.

When I’m confronted with the desire to let them go for whatever petty mistakes they might have committed, when I’m striving to be a fair leader, some employees view it as an opportunity to take advantage of my leniency, triggering pent-up explosions from my end. Then, I’m the evil boss that they wish for dead.

Tch.

“Keep this up, and someday, you’ll be CEO. Seeing you run the company just makes me want to retire so damn fast.” My father’s wise but giddy voice jerks me from my thoughts.

“Well… I try.” I chuckle awkwardly. We usually don’t joke in the office. He respects my alone time the most in the vicinity, so if he’s interrupting, something’s up.

“Uhhun.”

Awkward silence prevails for a while before he speaks again.

“So… since you’re becoming more crammed up, you will need some help, don’t you think?” He introduces the topic subtly, but I’ve been in this boat before. I know exactly what he’s driving at.

“No, Dad. I don’t need no assistant.” I roll my eyes but keep them on the screen of the computer ahead of me.

“Well, I’ve already assigned one for you. She’ll start tomorrow.” He breaks the news to me. His voice is tight because he knows I wouldn’t like the idea.

“You didn’t think it was necessary to ask me first?” I raise a questioning brow.

The middle-aged man helps himself to the seat in front, wincing a little as he lowers himself down. He enjoys acting old, even when he really isn’t. Early sixties really isn’t that old for a healthy person to have back pain severe enough to mutter mild obscenities.

“You see, I brought her onboard without informing you because I expected this reaction would come from you. You’re stubborn, Victors.” He explains, which is true because my next words follow that character trait.

“I guess we’ll have to tell her it’s an April Fool’s joke or something. I need no help. I don’t need one.” I write his claims with stiffness of mind.

“I’m not saying you do. What I mean is, I’ve already arranged for an assistant for you.”