29 

Lindsay looked up from the receptionist desk. “There you are. The meeting’s been changed.” She pointed to the executive wing. “Her office.”

Juliet nodded and headed that direction.

Lindsay seemed on edge, like everybody else around here in the past days. No employee escaped feeling the heat of working for a company in the glare of the public spotlight. Worse, they knew even if the company survived with their brand intact, the financial strain from this outbreak would likely mean future layoffs.

Her staff was particularly unnerved. Since the outbreak had been pinned on Larimar Springs, her lab techs’ chins had dipped to their chests as if they couldn’t quite bring themselves to hold their heads up, their disorientation nearly palpable. Especially Malcolm Stanford, who answered her questions in monosyllables and kept his eyes drilled to the floor. She wondered if, like all the others, her QA supervisor blamed her for this fiasco.

As she neared her own office door, she handed off her purse and attaché bag to Angela, keeping a single file tucked beneath her arm. “Any updates from Tavina?”

The temp shook her head. “No, not this morning.”

Juliet took the stack of mail Angela offered. “Thanks. And could you pen me out this afternoon for a couple of hours? I want to go to the hospital and check on little MD, and see if Tavina needs anything.” She turned to head to the meeting, moving several yards before Angela dropped her proverbial bomb.

“Uh—I won’t be here when you get out of the meeting. And I won’t be back.”

Surprised, Juliet whirled around. “What? Why?”

Angela shrugged. “Got word this morning that I won’t be needed anymore.” She pointed down the hallway to Fred Macklin’s assistant. “I was told to hand off my work to Alva Jacobs. So I guess I’ll catch you later.”

Juliet couldn’t help but turn and stare in the direction of the woman who was nearing retirement age. Not only was Alva known for snooping through people’s desks, but she refused to use a computer, clinging to her IBM Selectric typewriter from the seventies. The polyester-suited woman still wore support hose and refused to use a cell phone. “Why should I when I have a perfectly good telephone on my desk?” she was often heard explaining.

Rumor had it the guys in the mailroom were directed to print out all emails and place them on Alva’s desk no later than ten a.m., and then again at two in the afternoon. Even more puzzling was that she wore an elastic coiled bracelet with a tangle of keys dangling from her wrist. Funny she kept her own files locked up when she felt so free to open other people’s desk drawers uninvited.

Yes, Angela was pushy and difficult to warm up to, but Juliet would choose the temp over Alva Jacobs any day. Based on the way Alva stared back, she wasn’t terribly keen on the idea either.

Though pressed for time, Juliet quickly returned to Angela’s desk and shook her hand. “Thank you for filling in, especially during . . . well, all this.”

“Yeah, y’all got your hands full at this place, I’ll give you that.”

Minutes later, Juliet headed for Alexa’s door, first passing by her assistant. Muriel Parke stood and shuffled a stack of papers into a neat pile, a scowl painted across her colorless face. “Don’t you carry your cell phone anymore? Alexa’s been calling you.” Her features reminded Juliet of a pit bull with Ringo Starr’s haircut from the sixties.

“Sorry.” Juliet moved past, not bothering to offer any further explanation. A fact Muriel didn’t care for, based on the way she huffed.

Under normal circumstances, she’d maintain the politically correct stance with the old battle-ax. Despite the overblown sense of power of some in this group, Juliet knew the expediency of keeping on the assistants’ good sides. Lately, however, no amount of deference seemed to matter. Their chatter silenced every time she entered the break room to fill her coffee mug. Overheard whispers in the cubicles included words like blame, incompetent, bungled. The staff’s cold stares said everything—she’d been iced out.

She didn’t have many fans on the executive team either.

Around the small granite conference table in the corner of Alexa’s office sat Dale Frissom and Fred Macklin. Greer was perched on a small sofa over near the windows with his arm thrown over the back, chatting about reactions to their press conference with Ellen Shaffer, who seemed to be embracing his smooth and polished charm.

Everyone stopped talking and stared when she entered the room.

She checked her watch despite knowing what time it was. “Sorry I’m a bit late.” She moved to the table and took her place by their chief financial officer. “I understand we’ll be sharing an assistant going forward.”

Typical of his gruff, outspoken approach, he simply blew out a puff of angry air. “Don’t look at me. Wasn’t my idea.”

She turned to Dale, wondering if he’d take the opportunity to defend his decision since the human resources area reported to him. He said nothing. Instead, he kept his focus on the loose papers in front of him.

Alexa walked into the room then. Instantly, she took control. “Listen up. We have a lot to consider this morning.”

Dale sat expressionless as Alexa dropped her bomb. “Since QA was unable to provide adequate documentation for an outdated pallet found in the warehouse, the CDC believes there may be additional tainted product in the marketplace. They are threatening to go public.”

Juliet’s fists locked in anger. That weasel.

Using every bit of self-control she could muster, she repressed any reaction, instead forcing herself to remain stone-faced despite the fact she was seething mad.

She’d been sold down the river so Dale could reach shore in this deal. No doubt he’d painted the scenario in his highest favor.

While clinging to her threadbare composure, she struggled to form a strategy to restore her own credibility.

Alexa opened her leather portfolio. “We need to give Dale credit for convincing them to push the pause button. Because of his efforts, Dr. Breslin felt confident that if he gave us another twenty-four hours or so, Dale could connect the dots and shed light on why his warehouse was holding an outdated pallet without shipping manifests.”

Everyone turned their attention to Dale, who still wouldn’t look her in the eye.

“Uh, yes—we committed to investigate further,” he said, his voice unnaturally high.

Alexa sat with her fingers steepled, deep in thought. “We need to get to the bottom of this,” she said. “This company will never win if we’re forced to keep playing defense.”

Fred threw up his hands. “I don’t understand how you people could miss such critical facts.” He grabbed a wad of financials in his fist and shook them. “We’re losing hundreds of thousands daily. Do you understand what is at risk?” Clearly, he referred to his retirement as well as the company’s P&L position. And you people meant Juliet.

Ellen Shaffer stood, her face composed and silky hair loose on her shoulders. “I probably don’t need to remind you that Larimar Springs has already used up all its markers with the public. If you ever want a chance of regaining customer confidence, you’d best find the answers before the CDC.”

From the sofa, Greer leaned forward and tugged on his shirt cuffs. “I don’t mean to stir the pot here, but perhaps it would be advisable to appoint a company liaison with the CDC.” His gaze drifted in her direction. “Someone who has less personal stake in the information flow.”

Juliet’s jaw clenched. “What you are implying, Greer?”

“Let’s not let emotions supersede our judgment.” Alexa rubbed across her lips with her forefinger. With the other hand she tapped her Montblanc pen on the tabletop several times. Finally, she lifted her chin. “Under the circumstances, perhaps that’s a good idea.”

The decision kicked Juliet’s gut. Her boss’s directive cemented the notion she’d lost all confidence within the company at every level. Juliet’s career here was over. The best she could hope for was to salvage her image as a professional who wouldn’t melt under the heat.

“Again, I don’t believe that move is necessary. But I’ll concede and work to dispense my duties in the way you see fit.” The words stuck in her throat as she said them. She could play the puppet, if that was what they wanted, in the short time she had remaining in this position. In any other situation, she wouldn’t accept this blatant shift in confidence from her superiors. She’d resign and move on. But there would be time to focus on getting some semblance of a career back on track later. The main thing was to make certain the company complied with the CDC investigation to facilitate efforts to end this outbreak as quickly as possible. For everyone’s sake.

Alexa turned to Greer. “Who do you suggest?”

“Well, clearly Dale and Juliet are out of the question, and Ellen isn’t an officer for the corporation. That leaves Fred or me.”

Fred immediately appeared uneasy. He held up his open palms and shook his head. “No thanks. Leave me out of this. I’m the numbers guy, that’s all.”

Alexa lifted her chin. “Then it’s settled. We only have one option, really.” She stood and moved to her desk. “Besides, Greer can hardly direct a sales or marketing effort while the company is struggling through these issues. So, looks like you’re the point person, Greer.”

“Happy to,” he said, giving Juliet a look that radiated superiority.

“Another thing. No—and I mean no—information is to be disseminated to the public or to Cyril Montavan or our bankers without first going through me. Is that understood?” She waited for everyone to nod. “Okay, meeting over.”

Fred and Dale stood and collected their papers, then headed for the door.

Ellen, recognizing the shift in power, coyly smiled at Greer. Following her lead, he awarded her with a smile of his own and followed her out the door, listening intently as she gave pointers on how to remain noncommittal when providing information.

“Juliet, could you stay? I’d like a word—privately.”

She raised her eyebrows and glanced at her boss with caution. “Uh . . . sure.” Maybe she wasn’t going to be given the opportunity to stay after all.

Alexa moved for the door.

Despite preparing herself for this eventuality, she felt her heart race. She had hoped this company needed her, would use her expertise to maneuver the outbreak. Given that Alexa had just seen the need to appoint a babysitter of sorts, now she wasn’t so certain.

After closing the door, Alexa moved to the sofa. She patted the place next to her, inviting Juliet to join her there. “I want you to understand my position.”

Juliet took a deep breath and sat next to the polished and confident woman she’d so admired. From the outset of accepting employment with Larimar Springs, she’d viewed Alexa Carmichael as the epitome of everything she longed to be. Which made her boss’s decision to appoint Greer to play liaison stab deeper. Juliet vacillated between anger and dismay that the target of her admiration no longer trusted her to do what was best for the company.

“You may have misunderstood what just took place.” Alexa’s face grew sympathetic. “That decision was made to protect you.”

“Protect me?” she murmured, a bit confused.

“Don’t think people haven’t tried to step on my back the times my career hit a low,” Alexa confided. “Weak managers always dispel blame by pointing at others. Recently, I’ve come to realize it may be time to realign my . . . support system within the company.”

Juliet felt baffled by these new pronouncements, and said so.

Alexa patted Juliet’s knee, her eyes steady. “You handled yourself well today. Let Greer shadow you. It’ll do no harm and will protect you from rumor and innuendo. Besides, sometimes the greatest show of power is to let others think they’ve won.”

Her vote of confidence caused Juliet’s spirits to lift considerably. Somehow in all this mess, the smart and savvy businesswoman had seen through her detractors after all. “Thank you, Alexa. I appreciate your support.”

Her boss kicked off her gray alligator stilettos, stood, and moved across the plush carpet in her bare feet to her desk. She pressed a button on her phone set. “Muriel, hold my calls, please. I don’t want to be interrupted.”

Alexa returned to the sofa carrying a tray of fresh croissants from her desk. After placing the tray on the table, she sat next to Juliet and folded her feet up under her aqua pencil skirt. “Eat,” she urged.

The last thing on Juliet’s mind was eating, and she was hardly hungry after the waves of nerves she’d been riding over these past hours. Still, she reached for and buttered a croissant.

Alexa dabbed the corners of her lips with a napkin and looked Juliet in the eyes. “I realize you might be a bit confused here.” She brushed crumbs from her skirt. “Look, I like you, Juliet. I admire your knowledge and talent. Now, I need to know if I can trust you.”

“Of course.” She took a bite, unsure where Alexa was heading with these comments.

“Good. Because I need to confide something. Something that must remain between the two of us.”

The tenuousness in Alexa’s voice took her by surprise. She nodded her agreement.

Alexa placed the unfinished portion of her croissant back on the tray and focused on a few wayward crumbs. Finally, she looked up.

“I think I know where the E. coli came from—and why there was an outdated pallet in the warehouse.”