The Design(66)

“Cammie?” a voice called from behind me.

I turned to see a woman I faintly recognized as one of the company’s HR representatives standing outside of Grayson’s office door. Alan stood beside her with a scowl.

“Could we speak with you, please?” the woman asked, offering me a gentle smile.

I nodded and turned to join them before I noticed the small white binder clutched against her chest. “Cole Designs HR Protocol” was written across the front in thick letters.

Serenity was right. They’re going to fire me.

When I approached the doorway to Grayson’s office, Alan stepped aside to let me pass. It took all of my strength to stay silent as he glared down at me. I might have been in the wrong, but he deserved to be put in his place just as much as I did.

Grayson looked up from his desk when I entered, an indistinguishable expression on his face. Had we been alone, I would have hoped for some kind of greeting, but the HR woman and Alan followed me into the office and shut the door behind them. There was no hope for any privacy.

“Cammie.” Grayson nodded. “Have a seat.”

“Or stay standing, this shouldn’t take long,” Alan added with a sharp tongue.

Grayson glared up at him. “That’s your final warning, Alan. I’ve had enough today.”

Alan straightened his tie and cleared his throat, clearly embarrassed. The HR woman sat down in the chair beside me and flipped open her binder.

“So, Cammie, I’m Monica, and I’m here to supervise this meeting. As I’m sure you suspect, your actions concerning the design competition cannot be overlooked by the company—”

“Monica,” Grayson interrupted, “If you don’t mind, I’d like to do most of the talking. I understand that you have to be here, but Cammie should hear this from me.”

I clutched my hands on top of my lap and stared down at my chipped nail polish as Grayson continued to speak. I tried to absorb most of it, but really only got bits and pieces while I tried to keep my tears at bay:

“...your actions were careless...”,

“...jeopardized your coworkers' jobs...”,

“...stolen company property...”,

"...endangered the reputation...".

As I listened, I tried to pretend that I was hearing the speech from someone else’s lips. I knew that Grayson was firing me. I knew that it was the only choice he had, but when he told me to gather my things and exit the building, I felt like a hot blade had pierced my chest.

I loved him and he was letting me go.

I loved him and yet I’d still betrayed him.

“You’ve left me no choice, Cammie.” Grayson's eyes pleaded with me to understand.

I nodded and stood to head for the door before realizing that I should tell him the truth. I gripped the back of the chair I’d just vacated and met Grayson’s eyes for the first time since entering his office. I could have fallen so easily into his warm, trusting gaze, but I knew that couldn’t happen anymore.

“Yes, I submitted a design behind your back and yes, I snuck a few pages of letterhead. I shouldn’t have done it, and I realize that. The last thing I wanted to do was go behind your back, but I felt like I had no choice. I know that it was irrational, but I don’t regret submitting my own design. I would have never forgiven myself if I’d let the Alans of the world walk all over me. If this is truly a meritocracy, just look at the two designs.”

His frown deepened.

“Thank you for giving me this opportunity and I’m truly sorry for causing you to lose faith in me.”

I was sure there were still things for us to work out, some kind of paperwork to sign before I left, but I turned toward the door and walked out of Grayson’s office. They could mail me my final check. They could send me any exit paperwork. I’d be in another country soon enough, so what did it matter?

…



I took the long way home that afternoon. The sun was beating down overhead as I strolled down various LA streets, but I wasn’t in a hurry to escape it. To go home meant that I had to decide what my next move would be. I’d wanted to travel, to leave for Paris and never look back, but I’d wanted to do it on my own terms. I hadn’t saved up enough money yet and I wasn’t ready to leave Grayson. It felt like we were right at the beginning of something good, and if we could only get through the storm, we’d have potential to end up together. Him and me.

However, if I wasn’t making money, I didn’t really have many options. I could get a part time job somewhere, just to prolong the inevitable, but I think deep down I knew that getting fired was the final kick in the ass that I’d needed to pursue my dream. I just had to figure out how I’d leave Grayson without tearing my heart out in the process.





Chapter TwentyEight


Amount saved for Paris: $3417 (plus $537 from my last Cole Designs paycheck and another $3250 from selling my car).

Items I have: a pumpkin spice k-cup I stole from my desk on the way out of the office.

Items I need: a list of hostels in Paris.

French phrases that I know: Non, je ne ai pas de travail. Puis-je laver la vaisselle?…which translates to: “No, I don’t have a job. Can I wash dishes?”




“So, they canned you?” Brooklyn asked as we spoke on the phone later that afternoon.