Chapter 4

Chapter Four

Ronan

I yanked open my office door, my jaw clenched so tight it hurt. “Wait here.” I pointed at the chair outside. Emery’s brown eyes widened, and for a split second, I caught a flash of worry beneath her playful demeanor.

Good. Maybe she’d finally understand this wasn’t a joke.

I stepped into my office where Janet, Levi, and Max were waiting after I’d stormed out to put a stop to the madness in the wrapping area. The tension in the room was thick enough to cut with the industrial scissors we used downstairs.

“I want her gone.” I didn’t bother sitting down, instead pacing behind my desk. “This is exactly what I was talking about. She’s been here less than two hours and already disrupted the entire floor.”

Janet’s nails drummed against her tablet. “Actually, that’s why I called this meeting. Our turnover rate this quarter is approaching twenty percent.”

“What?” Levi straightened in his chair, his face showing genuine concern. I could practically see the dollar signs flashing in his eyes. “That can’t be right. Those numbers would destroy our fourth quarter projections.”

“It is.” Janet’s face remained impassive as she swiped through screens. “We’ve lost fifteen employees in the past month alone. At this rate, we won’t have enough staff to handle our current clients through December, let alone take on new accounts or expand for the Valentine’s season.”

My pacing stopped dead in its tracks, my polished dress shoes squeaking against the hardwood floor. “That’s impossible.” My mind raced through our compensation packages. “We pay well above market rate, and our benefits are some of the best in the industry.”

The numbers Janet presented weren’t good. This couldn’t be happening, not when we were on the cusp of our busiest season to date.

“Money isn’t everything, Ronan.” Janet’s eyes met mine with that unflinching stare that came with years of putting up with all three of us. “Your iron-fisted approach is driving people away. All three of you have created an environment where people are afraid to breathe wrong, let alone take a proper lunch break or God forbid, make a mistake. The warehouse feels more like a prison than a workplace, and I’ve had exit interviews that would make your perfectly styled hair curl.”

“Structure is necessary,” Max argued, his normally calm demeanor showing cracks. “We can’t have people singing and dancing around expensive merchandise. People pay good money because they know their gifts are being handled with the proper care and attention.”

Even from our cramped dorm rooms a decade ago, when we’d worked through countless sleepless nights, we’d provided a level of service that was unheard of. The memory of those early days, with boxes stacked precariously around our beds and Max’s constant complaints about dry hands, only reinforced my belief in our methods.

We’d built our company from nothing but raw ambition and an unwavering commitment to excellence. We weren’t about to let it spiral into party central where mistakes were made.

Levi ran a hand through his hair. “What do you suggest we do? Hand out participation trophies and have group hugs?”

“No,” Janet replied, “but maybe stop treating them like robots. What I witnessed downstairs? That’s the most engaged I’ve seen the staff in months. They were actually smiling while working.”

“They were being unprofessional and distracted,” I snapped.

“They were being human.” Janet stood, gathering her things. “Your choice is simple: adapt or watch your empire crumble. Because right now? You’re heading for a disaster. The holiday rush has started, and we’re severely understaffed.”

My hands curled into fists. “We’ll handle finding more employees.”

“Good luck with that.” Janet headed for the door. “Your reputation precedes you. Three different temp agencies have blacklisted us.”

“What?” All three of us spoke in unison, our voices echoing off the office walls with identical notes of disbelief and indignation.

“They call you the Three Scrooges.” Janet paused at the door, her hand resting on the handle as she delivered the crushing blow.

I bristled at the thought of our carefully cultivated reputation being reduced to such a childish nickname. The silence that followed was deafening, and tension radiated from Max and Levi beside me.

Her lips curved into a knowing smirk as she delivered her parting shot. “Fix it or start wrapping presents yourselves.”

The door clicked shut behind her with a finality that felt like a slap to the face. I could practically feel the weight of Janet’s words pressing down on my shoulders, making my usually pristine office feel suffocating.

The Three Scrooges.

Max and Levi shifted uncomfortably, no doubt just as disturbed by this revelation as I was.

“Fuck.” Levi slumped in his chair.

Max stood and walked to the window overlooking the main wrapping floor. “She’s exaggerating. We can’t be that bad.”

I joined him, following his gaze. Below, employees moved mechanically between stations, heads down, no interaction.

“Maybe...” Levi started, then stopped.

“Maybe what?” I turned to face him.

“Maybe we need to lighten up a bit.” He held up his hands defensively when I glared at him. “I’m not saying we let them turn this place into a circus, but Janet has a point. Happy employees work harder.”

“This isn’t a democracy,” I growled. “We built this company on precision and excellence.”

“And we’re about to watch it fall apart because we can’t keep staff,” Max pointed out quietly.

I braced my hands on my desk, fighting the urge to sweep everything onto the floor. “Get out. Both of you. I need to deal with our singing sensation out there.”

They left without argument, but I caught the loaded look they exchanged—that silent communication that made my blood boil because I knew exactly what it meant. Max’s resigned shake of his head and Levi’s tight-lipped frown spoke volumes about their wavering faith in my leadership.

Great. Now even my partners, the guys who’d been with me since the beginning, who understood why I ran things the way I did, were questioning my methods. It stung more than I cared to admit.

I took a deep breath, straightened my tie, and sat down in my chair. Time to show Emery exactly why they called us the Three Scrooges.

“Ms. Williams.” My voice held the command of the CEO I was, and she was soon scurrying into the office. “Shut the door.”

“Yes, sir.” She shut the door with a soft click, and fuck if my dick didn’t jump at how she said sir, her voice carrying the right mix of respect and something else.

The way she perched on the edge of the chair, fidgeting with the hem of her green blouse, made images of what she would look like with—no. Absolutely not.

I pushed the thought away with the same ruthless efficiency I applied to running my company, gripping my pen so hard I thought it might snap. This was about maintaining order, not indulging in whatever twisted fantasies my traitorous mind conjured up. I forced myself to focus on the matter at hand, ignoring how the blouse moved against her chest with each one of her breaths.

“Tell me about your last job.” I kept my voice even and professional.

“I was an executive assistant at Apex Financial for three years.” Her fingers twisted the fabric of her shirt harder. “I left due to... workplace environment issues.”

That caught my attention, my pen stilling mid-tap against the desk. Something in her evasive tone set off warning bells, the kind that had saved my ass more than once in the business world. “What kind of issues?”

She crossed and uncrossed her legs. Her fingers had practically knotted themselves in the hem of her blouse by now. “It wasn’t a good fit anymore.” The way she wouldn’t meet my eyes told me there was far more to this story than she was letting on.

“Maybe I should call for a reference.” I reached for my phone. “Get their perspective on these issues.”

“No!” The word burst from her with such force that we both froze. She quickly composed herself, but I’d caught the flash of panic in her eyes. “I mean, my supervisor is out of the country right now. Business trip to... Europe.”

My bullshit detector went into overdrive. Everything about her body language screamed that she was lying. “Ms. Williams, I don’t appreciate being lied to.”

“I’m not-” She stopped herself, shoulders slumping. “Please don’t call.”

I leaned forward, studying her face. “Give me one good reason I shouldn’t.”

A tear slipped down her cheek, and she quickly wiped it away. Something in my chest tightened, but I ignored it. I’d seen plenty of crocodile tears in my time.

“I really need this job, Mr. Gray.” Her voice wavered. “I know I messed up today, but I heard what Janet said about morale. Maybe that’s not such a bad thing? A little joy during the holidays?”

Anger flared in my chest. “You were eavesdropping?”

“The door wasn’t exactly soundproof or shut all the way.” She straightened her spine, defiance flickering across her features. “And she’s right. Everyone down there looks miserable.”

“You don’t know the first thing about running a successful business.” I stood, towering over her. “This isn’t some mom-and-pop gift-wrapping station. We handle millions in merchandise for high-profile clients who expect perfection.”

“Joy and perfection aren’t mutually exclusive,” she muttered.

“I’m giving you one more chance.” I planted my hands on the desk, leaning forward. “No more singing. No more disruptions. No more questioning how I run my company. Are we clear?”

She nodded, another tear escaping. “Crystal clear, sir.”

That ‘sir’ again. I gritted my teeth against the unwanted response it triggered. “Get back to work.”

She stood on shaky legs and headed for the door. Before she left, she turned back. “Thank you for the second chance, Mr. Gray. I won’t let you down.”

The door closed behind her, and I collapsed into my chair, running a hand over my face. The image of her tears wouldn’t leave my mind, and neither would the nagging feeling that there was more to her story.

A voice in my head that sounded suspiciously like Janet’s reminded me that happy employees were productive employees. But another voice, one shaped by years of experience and betrayal, warned me that letting my guard down led to disaster.

I pushed away from my desk and walked to the window. Below, Emery had returned to her station, her shoulders hunched as Blake hovered nearby. A prickling unease crept over me at the sight.

It’s business.

But as I watched her mechanically wrap another present, her spark completely dampened, I couldn’t quite convince myself it was true.