“Janice, what the hell is—”
“I’m sorry Julia, I have to let them know that you’re here.”
“Miss Sharp has arrived,” Janice says into the intercom and sits down looking at the desk. Before I can get a grasp on what any of this means, two armed security guards emerge from my office. One reaches out toward me and motions me into the door.
“Did something happen here?” I ask the somber guard. “Have I been robbed?”
“Oh, someone was robbed, Miss Sharp,” the oily voice I recognize at once calls from the inner office. “But, it wasn’t you.”
“Mr. Allen.” I shudder when I say his name. As one of Sandstone Venture’s attorneys, and the personal lawyer of Blake Stone, Kenneth Allen is more of a pompous bully than an officer of the court. He’s been insufferable ever since I turned down his clumsy attempts at courtship.
“How nice of you to visit. What brings you here, and why have you commandeered my property?”
“You’re wrong on all counts, Miss Sharp,” Kenneth drawls, his voice thick with superiority. “This is neither nice nor a visit, and nothing here is your property. This magazine and this office are the property of Sandstone Ventures. Of course, if you had known that we wouldn’t need the added security.”
Kenneth is standing behind my desk, his meaty paws thumbing through folders he has pulled out of my drawers and placed all over. Red tags cover my computer, my file cabinet and even my lunchbox left over from yesterday. I pull at a tag to see the word “EVIDENCE” written across it.
“Evidence? Evidence of what?”
“I’m sure if you search your soul deep enough, you’ll figure it out,” Kenneth says. He talks to me like I’m three years old and it always sends me into a tailspin.
“Drop the act and tell me what is going on or get the hell out of my office.”
I hear the click of the office door as the security guard closes it, shutting out the prying eyes and ears of my entire staff. Mr. Allen reaches into his briefcase and brings out three legal sized manila folders, placing them in a line. The last folder is red.
“We’ve been watching Lynx for some time, Miss Sharp. Or, should I call you, ‘Miss Shark?’ That’s what your staff calls you. We saw it all over their inter-office instant messaging. We also saw some… shall we say… irregularities in the account management. We aren’t sure what we’re looking at yet, but if it’s anything serious you will be the first person we notify.”
“Irregularities? That’s bullshit. Where’s Mark? Why isn’t he here telling this to my face?”
I can see the gloating fire behind Kenneth’s eyes. “Mark is no longer in charge of your accounts. He turned all the necessary documentation over to Blake last week.”
Another news flash that hits me between the eyes.
“Why would he do that?” It’s like trying to put together a puzzle where none of the pieces match in any way. I’m drowning in new information and none of it makes any sense.
Stop. Calm down, Julia. Breathe. You need to think.
“Because Mark is in charge of functioning properties, and this magazine no longer meets the criteria. Blake is in charge of acquisitions, transfers, mergers and–in your case–closures.”
A surge of fury and something else, betrayal, clenches in my stomach.
“Closures? You’re closing Lynx? You can’t do that! I still own forty-nine percent of this company, damn it. You can’t just come in here with some bullshit charge and then shut us down! I have some time for legal recourse.” This can’t be happening.
Kenneth opens the first folder. “You’re right, Miss Sharp. Of course, you’re always right, aren’t you? Enclosed is a copy of the injunction barring Lynx Magazine from any independent publication, action or pursuit until the terms of closure are finalized. The magazine can function only under the direction of Blake Stone until your time for rejoinder is finished.”
I stare at the stack of legal nonsense in front of me. I need to sit down but the only chair in the room has a box filled with files in it. I grip the back to steady myself as Kenneth opens the second folder.
What? There’s more? I’m trying to clear my vision.
“What you see in this document is the closure of Lynx Magazine, and transfer of contracts, staff, projects in development and all resources to another of Sandstone’s properties.”
Kenneth smiles like a hungry alligator.
“Everything here, except for one element, will be transferred to Ladies World under the direction of Valerie James. And finally,” Kenneth clears his throat, smiling broadly as he opens the red folder. He pretends to offer it to me then pulls it back. The security guard has both my arms behind my back so he knew I couldn’t take it in the first place. “Well, I can see you’re upset. I’ll just read it.”
“Yes, please do,” I snarl.
“Julia Sharp, by executive order of Blake Stone, Co-President of Sandstone Ventures, due to the pending closure of Lynx and transfer of its resources to a magazine that already has an editor-in-chief, your position has been declared redundant and your services are no longer required. Pursuant to contract section V paragraph 3A–you are hereby terminated from your position.”
He hands the folder to a guard and sits down behind my desk while his superior smile still gleams. I look around the silent room, struggling to hold back the fire that I feel building up in the pit of my stomach. A loud throbbing noise fills my ears as I try to contain it. The flames build in intensity until they sear a hole through my chest, surging forth in an uncontrollable torrent.
“I built this company from nothing! This is my company. I landed those stories while eating ramen in a basement! I stalked those celebrities to get those interviews. I hustled my ass off to sign on those advertisers! And you think that Valerie James over at Ladies World will know what to do with it? You can’t just come in here with some trumped up bullshit and get rid of me!”
Kenneth nods and the guard starts tugging at my arm.
“These gentlemen will walk you to your car. Good day, Miss Sharp.”
I struggle against the guard’s grip, trying to get away. “This isn’t over, if you think it’s going to be that easy to take Lynx away from me, you’re wrong!”
I’m rushed through the door and look to see the entire staff, some with mouths hanging open, watching me being escorted from the building like a petty thief. The guards don’t let me go until I’ve been deposited in the front seat of my car.