Wynn Jamison sat at her mahogany desk in her ridiculously large corner office on the third floor of the Sexton Technologies IT headquarters building. She spun to face the plate-glass window behind her and stared at San Francisco Bay. She glanced to her left to catch the other stellar view streaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows. She loved having two drastically different views, one of the bay and the other of the city of Mountain View, equally spectacular. The smog had lifted early today, and she was able to see the peaks of the Santa Cruz Mountains rising above the homes blanketing the lower hills of Silicon Valley.
It was a gorgeous area, though admittedly, it would’ve been even more so without the massive number of business parks scattered across it. The natural beauty of the land was growing sparse as the office buildings and homes became increasingly larger and closer together, filling the land. She wasn’t one to complain. Her excessively large home was nestled neatly among them. She enjoyed the sanctity of the mountains along with the close proximity to the city. How she’d love to jump in her Jeep and drive Highway One, get lost in the massive redwoods of Big Basin—hole up there until the impending storm dissipated. Possibly even stop in Half Moon Bay and do some clamming. There was something to be said for a little solitude and mud.
A soft knock sounded on the door, and without turning she said, “Come in.”
The door clicked open and someone stepped into the office. “Everyone is where they should be.” April’s voice was soft, almost somber. “The smaller groups are in the conference rooms, as instructed, and the larger group in the canteen.”
Wynn’s pulse jumped, which surprised her. She’d made announcements like the one she was about to make before without a bit of regret, but somehow she was different today. Maybe she’d lost her edge and was getting soft—letting the empathy she’d buried deep inside so long ago resurface. She sucked in a deep breath. She couldn’t afford a mistake like that right now.
With a manila file folder in her hand, April stood beside Wynn’s chair and looked out the window as well. “It’s a beautiful day. You don’t have to change that, you know.”
The statement wasn’t completely accurate. The view was breathtaking, almost too gorgeous to leave at this moment, but a raging squall was approaching over the horizon for a lot of people within the company: some who deserved it, and some who didn’t. Innocent casualties were a fact of life in the dog-eat-dog world of information technology, and today she was the one chowing down. At least for the time being.
“There’s no turning back…” Her words caught in her throat, and she cleared it, replacing any emotion she felt with the outer stone persona she presented at work. That was why she still remained in her position. “Not now. It’s a done deal.” When had she become such a ruthless bitch?
She stood, straightened her mint-green blouse, and shrugged on the matching jacket to her navy-blue Ralph Lauren slacks before she took the folder from April. She read through the speech she’d prepared and practiced a hundred times this week, then closed the folder and handed it back to April.
She crossed the room to the door. “You can stay up here if you’d like,” she said. It was going to be a bloodbath, and April would become a target even though she hadn’t been involved in any of the decision-making. That was all left to Wynn. Every large company needed an axman, and she was Sexton Tech’s.
April rushed in front of her and opened the door. “Nope. I’m right behind you.” She seemed to sense Wynn was struggling today.
She exited the elevator on the ground floor and glanced both ways. The IT complex was so large she had to admit sometimes she got lost. In the past she’d made a point of going to the canteen to mingle with all levels of employees, but now it seemed she never had time. She missed the energy such contact added to her day. Yet considering what she had to do today, it was probably best that she’d stopped.
“This way,” April said, and led her down the hallway and into the main canteen.
They worked their way around the room to an area where a microphone had been connected behind a few of the tables. She sucked in a deep breath, and regret stung her as she scanned the room—made minimal eye contact with the majority of people anxiously waiting to find out why they were gathered together. She settled her gaze on Evelyn Cantor, her former boss and mentor, who stood to the right of the tables flanking the group. Evelyn reported to Wynn now and knew what came next. She showed no sign of anger, but the pain in her eyes was clear. Since being promoted to chief operating officer, in an effort to save her emotional sanity, Wynn had learned to detach from the employees, but Evelyn, the current chief information officer, interacted with them daily and saw them as family.
A nervous silence blanketed the room, and everyone stilled. This sort of silence sucked the wind out of people, made the hairs on their arms stand up. Wynn was well aware that her presence had caused it. She glanced at Evelyn again, who flattened her lips. No help coming from her. She calmed the shiver tracing her spine, for this was Wynn’s job, no one else’s. She’d made the decision—she had to announce it.
“Thank you all for coming this morning. As you know, Sexton Technologies has faced several challenges in the past few months. We’ve had to cut contractors and temporary employees to the bare minimum, and at this point I’m saddened to say we are having to reduce our workforce even more.”
Chatter within the crowd interrupted her focus, but she gathered her thoughts. It seemed they’d suspected, rumors had run through the building like a game of telephone, morphing into new catastrophic misconceptions with each transfer, and now they knew exactly why they had all been gathered here. “You are all in this room because your positions have been eliminated. At the present time we do not have other positions for you. This has been a very difficult decision, made after a painstakingly long review of the options.” She paused, trying to keep her composure as some of the employees began to cry, and others shouted obscenities. “Each of you will receive a generous severance package, and Human Resources will work with you to complete your transition.” She paused for a moment to manage her body language. “Do you have any questions?”
Multiple questions and comments came from the audience.
“Who made the decision?”
“How am I supposed to pay my mortgage?”
“How am I supposed to support my family?”
“I just bought a new car.”
The voices echoed in her mind, and her vision tunneled as the back of her neck heated. She was drenched with sweat. Was it hot in here? The beast of anxiety she’d kept tucked away for the past five years had burst out of its locked cage and was ripping the chains from its limbs. She took in a few deep breaths to calm herself, then focused on her heart. It was racing so fast she felt like everyone could see its rhythm pounding in her chest.
“Evelyn will answer all your questions.” That was all she could get out. She couldn’t answer any of them because she couldn’t speak. Suddenly April was next to her, moving her to the side, and Evelyn took the microphone.
“Leadership at the highest levels in the company has reviewed this decision. Your severance packages are based on the duration you’ve worked for the company and should help each of you through enough time to find placement elsewhere.” Evelyn had taken charge and was handling the situation masterfully, as usual. Sometimes Wynn wondered how she’d gotten ahead of her on the leadership ladder. “Tables have been set up at the sides and in the back of the room that are separated and sectioned alphabetically. Please find the letter for your last name taped to the wall behind the table to receive the information on your packages. HR is available to assist if you have any additional questions.” She pointed to several people flanking the tables.
April whisked Wynn out of the room, into the elevator, and back into her office before going back to her own desk just outside the door. Then she stepped back into the office. “Your mom called while we were downstairs. Do you want me to get her on the line?” She always chose her words wisely, never indicating Wynn’s panic attack or that Wynn had just shattered the security of so many lives.
“No. I’ll call her back in a little while. I need a few minutes to recover.” She was an introvert at heart, and company announcements of any kind took a massive emotional toll on her. The magnitude of this one had totally drained her.
April poured a glass of water from the pitcher on the table and set it on the desk in front of her. “I’m right outside your door if you need anything.”
“Thank you. I do appreciate you, April.” She knew she must look horrible, because that’s exactly how she felt.
April nodded and gave her a solemn smile. “I know.”
She rotated her chair to the windows, closed her eyes, and tried to relax as April exited the office. Visions of waves crashing the beach played in her head as her heartbeat slowed. She hadn’t had to practice meditation in years, but it was the only thing keeping her sane right now.
Her stomach jolted, and she jumped in her seat when the door to her office swished open and bounced against the wall. She spun around in her chair to find Evelyn standing in front of her desk, hands on her hips.
“That speech you gave out there was insufficient.” Evelyn’s face became redder as the vein in her neck pulsed.
“It’s the reality, Evelyn. We discussed this many times, in detail.” They had and were always on opposite sides of the argument. Cutting production wasn’t an option, so cutting resources had become the fastest way to recover over the past few years.
“How can you be so cold? You just gave twelve hundred people their walking papers.”
“It’s not personal. It’s business.” The panic attack told her she wasn’t completely sure about that.
Evelyn pointed to the door. “It’s fucking personal to them.”
She narrowed her eyes as her stomach churned. She knew exactly how personal it was. Not that long ago she herself had been in the same position—found herself on the receiving end of walking papers at the small start-up tech company she’d had so much faith in a few years before. Only she’d been left with nothing when the company folded. “The severance package was excellent. If they have any skills at all, they should be able to find employment before it runs out.” She’d done it herself before she came to work for Sexton Tech, and then she’d worked hard, clawing her way to the top.
“When is the last time you actually talked to any of the employees? Actually had lunch in the canteen? When did you turn into such a heartless bitch?”
She bolted from her chair and clenched the edge of her desk. “You’re treading on thin ice, Evelyn.”
“Am I?” Evelyn stepped closer. “Then drop the fucking pick and crack the ice. Get rid of me. I dare you.”
“That’s always a possibility.” She stood firm. “If you want to go down this road farther, I will.”
Evelyn dropped her hands from her hips and looped her arms tightly across her chest. “Got it.” She glared for a moment before she dropped her arms, spun, and headed to the door. “I’ll be in my office trying to figure out how we’re going to run this place without the resources you just fired. So much knowledge is out the door.”
The company had taken too many risks, put money into new technology that hadn’t paid off. Contractors and temporary employees had already been reduced to the minimum. Return on investment was down, and the company stock had taken a dip. They’d had no other choice but to cut the workforce. They hadn’t eliminated a huge number. Considering that the company employed close to forty thousand full-time employees, cutting three percent was a small amount overall. They would get two months’ severance, and benefits would continue for six additional months following. After all, she wasn’t heartless. Among all that, Wynn had fought mercilessly to keep Evelyn’s job from being cut, which she would never tell her.
She picked up her pen and jotted herself a note on the pad in front of her.
Visit canteen for lunch next week.
It would be an attempt at normalcy that she would probably never achieve. Once the company had gone public, they’d decided to make all the food in the canteen free, for full bellies promoted better productivity. It was a small price to pay in the grand scheme of things, but after today’s staff reduction it seemed frivolous.
She glanced at the time on her laptop. Twelve o’clock, long enough for the terminated employees to have been escorted from the building. She wrapped up one last email, gathered her things, and headed to the elevator. She would get some support from Jordan, her older sister, who’d called earlier in the week and scheduled her for a late lunch. She hadn’t expected the invitation, since Jordan seemed to work twenty-four-seven.
Wynn’s mother was babysitting the children of Wynn’s oldest sister, Suzanna, and her husband James, who were enjoying a weekend away. Hoping their company would get her mind off this morning’s activities, she’d planned to go there later to spend some time with them. Wynn had always intended to have kids in her future, but work had been her sole priority recently, and the idea seemed to have completely dropped off her radar lately.
The only thing brightening her day was knowing she’d be seeing her niece and nephew this afternoon. That wasn’t entirely true. She’d also thought that Carly, Jordan’s wife, might show up later this evening. She usually had mixed feelings about seeing Carly, who had been with Jordan about a year. But after the morning she’d had today, she was looking forward to seeing her. Maybe Carly could help her make sense of the remorseful feelings bubbling inside. Her chest tightened. Or maybe Carly would be disappointed in her for what she’d done.