One Weekend with the Billionaire novel Chapter 12

Jeff Thompson rushes into my office like a child hurrying in to see the principal before he gets in bigger trouble for acting out in class. It’s too late for Thompson to change his behavior now to avoid punishment, but then, what I have in mind gets him off of the hook for all of his mistakes anyway, assuming he goes along with it, assuming his wife does not decline. If that’s the case, he’s in bigger trouble than he knows.

"Mr. Merriweather, sir," he says, offering me his hand. "I’m so sorry I’m running behind. The company car you sent was caught in traffic."

I arch an eyebrow at him. Does he really think I’m not aware that the reason he is late is because he didn’t even get into the car until a few minutes before he was meant to be here? I will not have that discussion with him, though. "Have a seat, Thompson," I tell him, declining to shake his hand as I can’t force myself to do so at the moment.

He drops his hand, drags it along his suit pants like there’s something wrong with it, and sits down across from my desk. I make my way behind it and sit in a chair that exaggerates our height difference. "You’ve worked here for about three years now, haven’t you Thompson?" I ask him.

"Thereabouts," he agrees with a nod. I know exactly how long he has worked here, but I'm wagering he doesn’t.

"And do you like your job?"

"Very much so," Thompson says with a sharp nod. "Best job I could ever hope for."

I imagine it is, considering how much non-work he does while he is on the clock. I study him for a moment, wondering how much of that to tell him I know about. I keep those cards close to me for now. "How do you feel your job performance has been lately?"

"I think I’m doing pretty well," he says. "We got that new account yesterday."

"Do you really think you can take any credit for that?" I ask him. "My understanding is that negotiations were not going very well until after you were taken out of the loop."

He frowns, like maybe he thought I didn’t know that. "Well… I’ve been working on it for months. Then, there’s the Green account."

"I thought Todd Hughly was leading that up."

"Yes, but Todd and I speak often," Thompson says, as if he has anything to do with the large account Todd is assigned to.

I think about the accounts he’s lost recently. "What about Brown? Trenning? Waterton?"

Thompson makes a face. "Those were unfortunate situations," he stammers. "I thought I had more assistance from team members than I actually did."

"So you’re saying others let you down?" I clarify.

Thompson nods. "Yes. It was a shame we lost them, but… there wasn’t much I could do about any of them. In the future--"

I stop him right there with a raised hand and a look that tells him that’s enough. "I do want to talk about your future, Thompson, but probably not in the context you’re about to mention."

His face melts into a frown. "What’s that, sir?"

I clear my throat and change the subject. "Do you remember the conversation we had last night--about Julia."

"Julia?" He repeats the word like his wife’s name is foreign to him. "What account is that?"

"It’s not an account, Thompson." I am annoyed with him, and it’s coming out in my tone. "Your wife. Julia."

"Oh! My wife?" He is confused. I can’t blame him. Everything I’m about to tell him will be confusing until he accepts it. "At the party?"

"Yes. I told you not to take your anger out on her, and yet, when you got home last night, you screamed at her and hit her."