CHAPTER 49: SET THINGS STRAIGHT

Fabian.

Don’t misunderstand me. It’s not like I harbored ill will toward Grace Steyner or that I hated her. In fact, I did like her quite a bit. There was a fierceness to her that was desirable in an employee. She knew how to lead too, which was one of the reasons I promoted her and had been thinking of promoting her again to a directorship position after I (and the other employees from Golden Time) left. She was strong. Capable. And most important, she actually knew what she was doing.

But then the incident at the hospital happened.

That changed a lot of things. It also nearly cost me everything I’d been working toward with Myla. I’m not ashamed to admit, I harbored some definite negative feelings toward her for that. The most infuriating part was that when we’d first met, she had made it a point to let me know she was married. That sends a very clear and unmistakable message.

I’m off the market. Don’t try anything funny.

With that being said, what was all that shit that went down with us in the hospital room all about? It was pretty apparent that she wanted to pursue something at the time but since I had rejected her flat out, she’d been keeping her distance from me. And from Myla, I noted. There was tension all around and now, in one of my rare moments of indecision, I didn’t know what to do. I wasn’t going to fire her. That was a step too far in my opinion, even though what she had done basically sent Myla into an emotional upheaval and right into the arms of someone else.

Yes, that still stung. I am still human. Every now and then, I feel I have to remind people of that.

I sucked in a breath and tried to give myself a few moments to figure out what to do. Did I want to approach her now, in the open? Should I wait and do it more formally and out of earshot of passersby?

Informal. I felt that was the way to go. It had the most likelihood that things would be kept civil. I didn’t know Grace well, but the fact that she had turned so malicious toward Myla when she interrupted our conversation told me she could (and would) fly off the handle, as it were, if given the right motivations. I did not want to give her those motivations and wanted a professional, boss-to-employee conversation to resolve an issue. It had nothing to do with fear and more to do with the fact that I didn’t want her to quit because of some misguided jealous rage. She was better than that. And again, she was valuable. In the short time I’ve worked with her, she proved that consistently and effectively. I also wasn’t in the habit of letting rare talent walk away.

And Grace had that. She had that in abundance.

With my course set, I walked over to Beanery and placed an order. I saw her eyes notice me as I walked up and track me as I came over to her. There was no expression there. Whatever she was feeling, she was keeping it carefully hidden.

“Mrs. Steyner,” I said. “Would you mind if I sit?”

She didn’t look happy with me interrupting her solace. That was understandable, I supposed.

“Go ahead,” she replied. “And it’s Ms. Corbain. Not officially or anything yet, but…”

Her voice trailed off and she went back to staring down at her coffee.

“I see,” I said. It was the only thing that popped into my head. “Corbain, huh? I feel like I’ve heard that name before. It’s a bit unusual huh?”

“I guess. I haven’t really thought much about it,” she replied.

Grace didn’t look like the strong and confident woman I’d met that first day at Roseforce. It felt so long ago now, especially considering everything that’s happened since then. This version of Grace looked…untethered.

“Right,” I responded awkwardly. “I thought this might be a good time to talk but if you do not want to, I can leave. I don’t want to impose on your break.”

“It’s fine. I’ve been here most of the day so I guess, having my boss show up kind of feels like karma in a way,” she replied. “I haven’t done a damn thing all day. I’ve just been sitting here.”

“You didn’t have to come in today if you’d rather not work.” I wasn’t sure about approaching her with what I wanted to originally approach her with. All of a sudden, setting things straight with her did not seem appropriate.

“I didn’t want to be at home,” she responded. “At the time, here felt like a much better option. At least, that’s what I thought until you wouldn’t even see me or speak to me.”

“Yes, well, that’s one of the reasons I came over. I was hoping to address some of the…tension that’s been in the air since the hospital. But maybe another time would be better,” I said.

“Why? What difference will it really make?” Her eyes shot up to mine and I could see some of the fire there that I originally saw when we first met.

So she is still in there, I told myself.

“What is really going on, Ms. Corbain?” I asked. “I don’t quite understand what’s been happening with you except for the fact that it appears to be having a negative impact on other employees.”

“You mean Myla, right?” she asked. A flicker of something cold hit her.

“For the purpose of expediting this conversation, yes. Like Myla. I saw, firsthand, a level of immediate dislike toward her at the hospital when she interrupted whatever you were trying to say. It has…persisted as well. I’ve seen that. So I need to ask you, will this be a problem going forward?”

I didn’t want to come right out and say if her answer was anything other than a “no,” there would be consequences. I did not typically involve myself in disputes between employees unless the reason was important enough for me to get involved in (which almost never happens). Most of the time, the disputes are handled by the human resource department. This thing with Grace and Myla, however, directly involved me. Because I was the root cause of the problem. At least, that’s what I’ve been able to infer. Being there to witness it firsthand really solidified my own personal feelings on the matter.

“What do you want from me, Fabian?” she asked. Her eyes were starting to tear up but not enough to where she was actually crying. “I realize I was unprofessional but I won’t apologize for it either. I made a decision. That’s all.”

“And you’ve let that decision turn toxic toward others,” I told her. The tears went practically unnoticed. I couldn’t let that sway me or what I had to do to help squash whatever the hell was happening with her and Myla. “When that happens, I feel like it’s in the best interest of everyone to step in and try to resolve the situation peacefully.”

“Oh? Is that what this is? You peacefully resolving things? Or is this whole conversation only happening because the person I am ‘in conflict’ with is Myla?” The tone to her voice was bitter but as frustrated as that was making me, I did my best to keep my composure. “It’s obvious you two are…something. I don’t really know what, but it is enough of a thing to spark this conversation with me. Which, if I’m being honest, feels extremely uncomfortable.”

“That is not my intention. I do not want you to feel uncomfortable but, I also don’t want there to be conflict with another employee for perceived slights.”

“Perceived slights?”

This might have actually been a bad idea. It happens. Rarely, mind you, but it does happen. Grace was clearly emotional and coming up to her, even in a relatively public place to hopefully avoid outbursts, was beginning to look bad.

“I’m not saying you’ve done anything wrong, necessarily. Or that there is any disciplinary action that needs to be taken,” I started to say.

“Disciplinary action? Because I don’t like your girlfriend? Are you serious?” Grace asked. Her face was getting red.

“No. That is not what I’m saying,” I tried, getting exasperated now. This was rapidly getting out of hand and if I wasn’t careful, things could become very…sticky…for me. “There is no need for any disciplinary action. I was just trying to express that if things were not…”

“I know what you meant,” Grace returned, still very much upset and looking more so by the second. “I’ll stay away from your precious little Myla. No need to come all the way down here just to play overprotective boyfriend with me.”

She started to get up, collecting her trash and her purse as she did. Her eyes snapped toward mine, full of indignation and rage.

“Just for the record, Fabian.” She said my name with a vindictive little sneer to it. I humbly ignored that though. As upset as she was, I thought snapping at her over something like that would have been petty. “I didn’t do shit to Myla. It’s not my fault the girl can’t handle someone not liking her. Maybe you should go have a word with her and tell her to grow a fucking spine. It’s a bit pathetic she’s got you talking to me instead of doing it herself.”

Shit. I hadn’t considered that aspect of this plan (which I fully admit now was definitely one of my rare bad ideas). At the same time though, I was getting heated myself with her continued abuse and insults of Myla.

“You should take the day off,” I replied, my voice as hard as steel. “In fact, why don’t you take the rest of the week off? Paid, of course. It is clear your feelings may have been more affected by recent trauma than you may have realized.”

It was an out for her. A way to leave this conversation without making things worse for herself. And, admittedly, for myself. This whole situation was going to blow up in a big way if I didn’t do something to stop that from happening first. Giving Grace a few days off seemed like the logical option.

Apparently, she thought so too.

“That sounds like a great idea…” She paused here, a little scowl twisting her mouth. “...Mr. Ness.”

She left after that and I watched her leave, upset with myself and feeling very foolish. Without a doubt, I knew I had just overstepped.

Great, I thought. Just fucking great.

I didn’t blame Grace, mostly because I was able to recognize that this whole thing was 100% my own fault. But despite that, I couldn't help but feel bitter about the whole thing. I had been feeling so great just moments before after an exceptionally great time with Myla. Now, I just felt like shit.