“It means you are killing yourself for this company and, at the rate you are going, if I give you Arsenal, you will be dead before you are forty.”
“I have no idea what you are talking about,” Anna said. The hard work, the weeks on the couch, the stress of the past five hours and now this…Anna felt a headache blooming behind her eyes. She pinched her nose.
“I know you don’t.” Camilla leaned forward. “For months I have been trying to get you to take a break. A vacation…”
“I will, I know,” Anna sighed, relieved. This was just about a vacation. “Tomorrow. I promise. I’ll book a cruise. I’ll book two cruises. I just had to get this job…”
“Sweetheart, there is always a job. That’s the nature of this business.”
“Right, so…?”
“So, I’ve taken this upon myself.”
“You’ve booked me on a cruise?” Anna asked, confused.
“No, but that’s not a bad idea.” Camilla seemed to consider it for a split second and then she pushed the silver hair off her face and took a bracing breath. “Until I retire in six months, you are, in essence, fired.”
Anna blinked. Her mouth opened, words rushed through her brain but died in her throat. She shut her mouth. Opened it again. “Wh-what? What do you mean fired?”
“I mean you will not be working for six months. It’s a forced, but paid, sabbatical.”
The explosions from earlier came back. Canons in her head. And not the good kind. “Are you joking?” She started laughing incredulously. “Because I have to say, if you are, good one. Really. You had me going.” She shook her finger at Camilla.
“I am not joking.”
“Then I must have fallen asleep on the couch again, because there is no way—” disbelief had her on her feet “—no way the woman who just cemented the future of this company for you is getting fired!”
“Anna, sit down,” Camilla urged calmly.
Anna sat. “Tell me this isn’t real, Camilla. Please.”
Camilla’s unlined patrician face fell and she stood up. “It’s very, very real and it’s for your own good.”
She was elegant and calm and as serene as she was in every situation. It was the end of Anna’s world and Camilla might have been ordering lunch.
Anna’s eye started to tick uncontrollably.
“Listen to me,” Camilla said. “You have six months. A sabbatical.”
“I don’t want a sabbatical,” Anna spat.
“Well, that’s too bad, sweetheart, because you need one.”
“I don’t need one!”
Camilla’s lips pursed for a second. “Anna,” she said carefully. “Yesterday you threatened to shove chopsticks up Andrew’s nose.”
Well, Anna slouched a little bit in her chair. She had been working hard, she had been stressed out and Andrew, the little rat, had thrown out her leftovers. Perhaps holding the chopstick to his throat that way might have been a little much, but…
“Okay, that was too much,” Anna admitted. “But that hardly translates into me needing six months off. Camilla, this is crazy.”
“It’s six months off. You come back and Arsenal is all yours. It’s your company. President, just like we agreed.”
“What if I say no?” Anna asked, her brows furrowed and the pain behind her eye nearly blinding. This was a nightmare. This day should have been a celebration and now it was hell.
“Then you’re fired for real,” Camilla told her in dead seriousness and Anna felt her heart stop for a moment. “You need these six months to get a life.”
“I have a life!” Anna protested, hotly.
“Really?” Camilla asked and the pity in her eyes sent Anna to her feet. The chair spun out behind her and hit the glass of the window.
“Yes, really, this company is my life.” Anna slammed the bag of candy on her desk. “I have devoted everything to Arsenal, every single thing….”
“That’s the problem, sweetheart,” Camilla said, standing to face Anna.
“How can that be a problem?” Anna was beginning to shout and she didn’t care at all, which if she had been rational, would have alarmed her. “In this business, my kind of devotion is usually rewarded.”
“Sit down, Anna,” Camilla said in her persuasive tone usually reserved for tough clients.
“No!” Anna refused. “I won’t sit down, Camilla. Not while you stab me in the back.” Anna began to pace the small distance between the windows and Camilla. “Does this have anything to do with my job performance?”
“No,” Camilla sighed and settled back down on Anna’s desk. “You do an excellent job.”
“Excellent, not just good. Not just fair, but an excellent job.” Anna’s finger jabbed the air right in front of Camilla’s nose. It wasn’t the job that drove Anna. Surely, Camilla could see that it was the excellence she was after. It was the details. It was perfection.
How does a perfectionist get fired?
“Yes.”
“So excellent in fact…”
“Anna.” Camilla crossed her arms over her chest, indicating her temper was wearing thin. “How many times have I come into the office in the morning and found out you spent the night on your office couch?”
“What does that have to do with anything?” Anna shrieked, unable to see the correlation.
“How many?” Camilla asked her voice cutting the air.
“A few,” Anna answered throwing up her hands.
“Three hundred and sixty-two times.”
“So?”
“What was the last play you saw? The last concert or movie?” Camilla continued.
“I just saw the new Brad Pitt movie!” Anna said, trying not to sound to triumphant.
“Brad Pitt hasn’t been in a movie in two years,” Camilla pointed out.
“Brad Pitt shouldn’t have any kind of bearing on my job,” Anna cried then shook her head. “Do you see how nuts all of this is? I must have fallen asleep at my desk, because this can not be real.”
“How many dates have you been on in the last two years?” Camilla asked relentlessly.
“A few,” Anna
