Total pages in book: 24
Estimated words: 23753 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 119(@200wpm)___ 95(@250wpm)___ 79(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 23753 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 119(@200wpm)___ 95(@250wpm)___ 79(@300wpm)
The board members—the “soulless ghouls” as we call them—are lined up onstage next to an oversized screen flashing recaps about the IPO we already know by heart.
Finding Mindy, I move past a few interns and slide into a seat beside her.
“I was just about to call the police to do a wellness check on you,” she whispers. “You alright?”
“Barely,” I mutter. “How is this so far?”
“Super fascinating. I’m learning so much.” She holds up her phone, a game glowing on the screen.
Perfect.
“Now for the big reveal that you’re all waiting for!” The lead board member, Penelope, squeals like this is actually exciting.
“After collecting and cataloging surveys from all of you here on the main campus—which is, wow—fifteen hundred employees, we can reveal Mr. Pearson’s overall score for morale. Mr. Pearson, could you join us onstage please?”
He rises from the front row, and even after twenty-one days, he looks better than in every fantasy I’ve had since. The lights catch on the broad lines of his shoulders, on the perfect cut of his dark grey suit, the sharp line of his jaw. Heat pulses low, sharp and fast, and I squeeze my thighs together as he glances at the crowd.
And just like that, my mind betrays me—dragging me back to the image I’ve been replaying night after night. His hands pinning me to my desk, that mouth against my throat, his voice low and rough as he demanded I answer him with “yes, sir.” I shift in my seat, trying to focus on the stage, but the memory of his body against mine won’t let me.
I blink hard, willing myself to stay in the present, but all I see is the way his suit would look discarded on my office floor, the way he’d look above me if I ever stopped fighting him.
“Okay.” Penelope smiles when he reaches her side. “Everyone count down with me. Five. Four…”
No one in the audience joins her. Her voice echoes solo off the walls.
“Two… one!”
She lifts a remote and taps a button, and the screen flashes with images of the city before revealing the result.
92% Approval
A collective gasp fills the room.
There’s no way…
The board members applaud, but not a single clap sounds from any of us employees.
“I guess morale is a lot better than you expected, huh?” Penelope smiles at Mr. Pearson, motioning for him to take the mic.
“Thank you all for ranking me so high.” He smirks as if he knows his score is a fraud. “I’m looking forward to ushering in a new era of transparency here to make your time in my company better, and to show you that I mean that…”
He pauses.
“I’ll read some critical reviews at random to show you how serious I am about change.”
“What a great idea!” Penelope exclaims. “Here, let me put on the randomizer for you, so you can read them off the screen.”
Behind him, a score and a bolded paragraph appear.
“10 out of 10,” he reads. “Mr. Pearson is the best CEO I’ve ever worked for, and my only complaint is that he doesn’t get the recognition he deserves.”
I cross my arms. That review could only be written by one person—Brian, his personal lapdog.
“The next one is an eight out of ten.” He smiles. “My only issue with this company is that sometimes there’s not enough breathing time between tasks and communication.”
“I’ll do better with that.” He smiles at the crowd as if we’re his fans.
“I knew I should’ve slept in and come late…”
“Read the one out of ten, Mr. Pearson,” Penelope says.
“The what?” He looks at her.
“Eh, I’ll read it.” She clears her throat. “If I could give this asshole a 0/10 I would.”
The entire auditorium falls silent.
Mr. Pearson narrows his eyes as she reads.
“He’s never been wrong a day in his life, turns our meetings—which he only attends DIGITALLY—into hostage situations, and I swear he cuts people off mid-sentence just to hear himself talk.”
I try not to nod; whoever wrote that has balls of steel, and I hope they’ll reveal themselves later so we can throw them a party in solidarity.
“Okay.” Mr. Pearson clenches his jaw. “As far as this review...”
“Hold on, wait. There’s more,” Penelope says. “I don’t think he knows how to actually RUN a company, or how to treat employees. And despite the fact that he has time to star on GQ covers, nab features on America’s Top Billionaires list, this asshole still has time to harass me (DAILY) about a stupid report.”
Oh my god…That’s MY review!
The recognition of my words dawns on me, and my blood runs cold. Panicking, I search for the nearest exit sign.
Then again, no one knows it’s me, and I’m sure I’m not the only one he harasses. I can’t be.
“If he really wants to improve morale around this place, he can either start putting himself in our shoes or shut the fuck up and enjoy staying in his. Sincerely, Kendall Clarke.”