Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 71679 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 358(@200wpm)___ 287(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71679 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 358(@200wpm)___ 287(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
Some of my anger evaporates. This just turned out to be quite amusing.
Darby: I actually think he might have something wrong with him. Haven’t you ever really thought about why he pulls the shades over his windows? Like the light bothers him? Or triggers something? Maybe he has seizures, and he doesn’t want anyone to know. I’ve never picked up medication for him, but he’s not the kind of person who would ever ask me to do that.
For the love of shit tarts. Shit tarts, I imagine, are the nasty kind with raisins in them. Or, well, anything with raisins, for that matter. Anyway, Darby is probably the only one who doesn’t need to go to sensitivity training.
It’s time to break up this chat before Darby gets any closer to the truth. Although I must say, the fact that she doesn’t rise to the garbage that everyone else throws out there touches something in the cold, dead, frosty ass parts of me. At least she doesn’t think I’m a puppy eater. I don’t like dogs, but I would never, ever harm an animal. That’s just terrible. And disgusting. And disturbing.
Amanda: Don’t feel sorry for him. He doesn’t have any feelings of any kind. He is cold and dead inside. Worse than a corpse. A real, living vampire.
Jane: He raged on the marketing department because they messed up a single word in the slogan he wanted for that company that makes shoes. The room was lethal. Chad was in there, and he told me after that he just about wet himself.
Darby: To be fair, it was a lot of money wasted. He didn’t have to shout like that, but those fliers had to go out the next day, and there wasn’t time to reprint ten thousand of them. It sucked. And it wasn’t a word they got wrong. It was the spelling of that company’s name.
Amanda: I think he preys on the innocent. He finds these corporations and swallows them up, then he turns around and ‘makes them better’ for more profit. He’s basically buying and flipping houses, except he’s buying and flipping businesses. It’s kind of heartless and gross.
Darby: He does make money off it, yes, but so does everyone else. We all work here because of what he does. He doesn’t prey on anyone. A lot of people come to him. Well, us. To us as a company. Their businesses are failing, and they need help turning things around. He doesn’t gouge anyone, and unlike most places that do what we do, those companies retain control of their business.
Jane: You’re not very fun. What’s gossip Wednesday without gossip?
Darby: Sorry. I just work with him too closely, and he’s too human. Mean? Sometimes. Getting coal in his stocking every year? Abso-freaking-lutely. He can be a straight-up bossy, assy, bosshole, but all the other stuff? Nah. Not buying it.
Amanda: Have you noticed that his hand is sometimes weird?
Jane: No. Like how?
Amanda: I don’t know. Never mind. Anyway, Darby, you’ve had his car cleaned before. Ever found any evidence of crimes in there? Like bodies?
Darby: I take his car to be cleaned once a week at least, whether it needs it or not. I’ve never found any bodies in it, and I have to vacuum it out, so I’d find them if they were there.
Jane: Bloodstains?
Darby: Well, he’d probably suck them dry first, so no.
Amanda: Haha, that was good. Now you’re getting in the spirit. But really? He makes you vacuum out his car? What a sick bastard.
Darby: I’m his assistant. I’m supposed to assist him, so I do.
Amanda: With paperwork and stuff. Not car stuff.
Darby: Well, whatever. I get more money here than anywhere else. I need it. My sister is halfway through college, and she wouldn’t be able to go if it weren’t for me. I also have a huge student loan debt that I’m paying off, and my dad is on disability, so I help my parents with their mortgage. I couldn’t do all that if I didn’t make good money here.
I’ve read enough. I closed the chats so they won’t make a sound on my screens when I call Darby into my office. I’d like to use some of the things they said about me against her, but that would ruin the fun of getting to read all those messages. I can’t say I didn’t warn people. Maybe I’d be in a better mood if my own employees didn’t like to stab pins into me all day long. They’re right about some things and wrong about so, so many others. The hand and eye things make me feel wary as fuck. Hiding in plain sight apparently isn’t working.
There’s one thing my father taught me and taught me well. Actually, there were many, but this one really stuck with me over the years. Find weakness. Search for it like a damn hound. Evaluate it, use it, and exploit, exploit, exploit. All the while, scourge the weakness from yourself, so there’s nothing that can be used against you.