“Sit down, Rod,” the owner said.
He dropped back into his chair. The other department heads filed out of the room. The door clicked shut behind them, and there were a few seconds of silence.
Kendall glanced down the table at Rod. “You’re fired. Please turn in your tablet, your corporate credit card, and the keys to your company car right now.”
“You can’t do this. You can’t fire me!” By now, he was up out of his chair and pointing at Kendall with a shaking finger. “She can’t fire me!” he told the owner. “She doesn’t have the authority. Tell her!”
The Miners’ owner shook his head. Kendall dialed zero on the conference room phone. “Please send security in here to help Mr. Carpenter clean out his desk and escort him out of the building. I want him off the property as quickly as possible.”
He was still ranting. “I’ve been with this organization for ten years now! I know everything, and I won’t hesitate to use that knowledge! You can’t fire me!”
Two uniformed San Francisco police officers entered the room, got on either side of him, took his arms, and hauled him out of his chair. They marched him out of the room.
“Forget helping him clean out his desk. We’ll do it,” Kendall called after them. “Let’s get him out of here as quickly as possible.”
A few minutes later, Rod was in a cab headed home, and Kendall turned to face Mr. Curtis. “There are a few other things I’d like to talk with you about.”
“I thought so,” he said. He held out one arm. “Lead the way, Ms. Tracy.”
DREW AWOKE IN his dimly lit and quiet hospital room to his mom’s hand on his good shoulder.
“Honey, I’m sorry to wake you, but we’ve got to go back to your house for the night. Your dad’s falling asleep. Will you be okay without me for a few hours?”
“I’m fine, Bonnie,” his dad insisted.
“You can’t sleep in that recliner, and you know it. You’ll be in traction by morning.”
His dad let out a snort. His mom kissed Drew’s forehead.
“Mom, the nurses are here. I’ll be fine,” he said. “You and Dad need some sleep. Are you sure you’re okay to drive home?”
His house was only twenty minutes from the hospital, but it was late. He knew his mom would sit up all night fussing over him, no matter how many times he told her he was fine and she should go to sleep. Plus, the hide-a-bed thing in the corner of his room didn’t look comfortable. They needed some rest. He’d be fine overnight.
“Your dad is sleepy. I’ll drive. I’ll ask the nurse to come in here and check on you,” she said. “We’ll be back in the morning. I promise.” She smoothed the hair off his forehead with a gentle hand. “We love you, honey.”
“I love you too. Call me when you get to my house so I know you made it safely, okay? Owen left some stuff in the fridge for you in case you’re hungry.”
His mom shook her head. “He didn’t have to do that. We’ll see you tomorrow.”
His dad shook his good hand, his mom blew him a kiss, and they left.
An hour or so later, he wasn’t sure why the nurses hadn’t been in yet to check on him. Maybe his mom bribed them to let him sleep. He hit the button to sit up a bit in his bed. The window showed full-on darkness outside. In other words, he’d been pretty much out since he had the graham crackers and apple juice post-surgery. He was hungry as hell. An experimental nudge of his shoulder made him clench his teeth in pain. The anesthesia had worn off. He needed a bathroom. And food. And some pain medication. He wasn’t sure which was more urgent, but he wasn’t going to be able to get these items for himself. He located the nurse’s call button in the sheets and gave it a gentle press.
Another dark-haired nurse walked into the room thirty seconds later. “I see you’ve finally decided to join us,” she said with a big grin.
“I wondered what my mom said to you.”
“She’s a very persuasive woman,” the nurse said. “Let me guess what you want right now. What’s your pain level from one to ten?”
“It’s an eight,” he said through clenched teeth. “I also need to visit the men’s room.”
“Well, alrighty then,” she said, and he almost laughed out loud at the expression on her face. “Let’s see what I can do for you here.” She crossed the room almost silently to wash her hands in the attached bathroom. She stepped out into the hall for a moment, engaged in some elaborate pantomime with another nurse, and came back into his room with a syringe of what he was guessing was pain medication. “I’ll put this in your IV first, and then we’ll get you a portable urinal. Will that work?”