Chapter 49 The Warning and the Email (The Third Floor)
It had been a week, and the third floor had a calm liveliness that didn’t have for the first time in years. People were more relaxed, learning the new data and filing system, and their jobs had become noticeably easier and enjoyable.
Meanwhile, the other departments were in disarray forced to complete their own work fully for the first time. The managers were too prideful to properly request support or schedule a meeting with the third floor.
But a few brave ones swallowed their pride, bit the bullet, and approached Lotus and Joy.
And with the new system in place, Lotus and Joy handled everything flawlessly better than anyone expected. The third-floor staff felt respected, capable, and seen.
The only problem?
The machines and equipment still weren’t up to par.
But Joy’s computer repairs were a blessing suddenly everything moved fast and efficiently.
As they began their weekly prep talk and reviewed the upcoming project list
Before anyone could collect more intel, he arrived.
Bernard from Compliance
strutting onto the third floor like a suited action villain determined to deliver disappointment.
Tall.
Broad-shouldered.
Permanently smug.
His assistant scurried behind him with a clipboard, looking like she’d rather be anywhere else.
Bernard cleared his throat, projecting authority that didn’t quite land on this floor.
“Good morning,” he said. “It’s been several days, and I haven’t received any deliverables from your division. I need work completed ASAP.”
Joy didn’t flinch. “What work? No one sent us an appropriate heads-up.”
Lotus added calmly, “Nothing was sanctioned for our floor, Mr. Bernard. If you were expecting output, your communication never reached us.”
Bernard’s head jerked back slightly.
No one talked to him like that.
He was highly respected in the building people usually melted under his tone.
But Lotus and Joy didn’t care about his reputation.
Joy tapped her tablet, pulled up the department roster, and stared him down.
“You have a team of seven,” she said. “Seven employees. Tell me what tools or skills they lack that require dumping emergency work on the least-equipped floor in the company.”
His assistant’s eyes darted between them, silently screaming, Sir, abort mission.
Bernard sputtered. “I don’t that’s not”
Behind his coffee, Paul muttered, “Oh, he wasn’t ready…”
The entire third floor froze, watching the scene like a live drama.
Shock.
Thrill.
Relief.
Somewhere in the back, someone whispered, “Finally.”
Bernard straightened his tie, pulled himself together, and stepped closer with a narrowed gaze.
“I’m giving you a professional warning,” he said coldly.
“Your tone and behavior are unacceptable. Consider this documented.”
Lotus didn’t blink. “Consider our boundary documented.”
Bernard’s nostrils flared.
He spun on his heel and walked off assistant jogging behind him, papers flapping.
Shock rippled across the third floor.
“Did that just?”
“You two really said that?”
“Y’all built different!”
“That was legendary!”
Admiration settled over the room like a fresh breeze.
But there was no time to bask in it. They knew that unfair repercussions will follow.
The Email Avalanche
Word traveled fast.
Departments from the 2nd, 4th, and even 5th floors began sneaking “urgent requests” to the third floor anyway.
Assignments labeled ASAP.
Data dumps.
Report cleanups.
Testing tasks.
Employees didn’t even read them.
They simply clicked:
Forward → Joy & Lotus.
And Joy and Lotus?
They handled each one with unbothered, surgical precision.
Every reply was identical:
To: Requesting Manager
CC: HR; Cynthia; Department Supervisor
Hello,
This assignment has been forwarded incorrectly to the third-floor division, which is currently on an operational hold until equipment is repaired and formal workflow instructions are provided. Please redirect this request to the appropriate department head.
Regards,
Lotus Whitnley
Joy wrote them with the tone of a prayer wrapped in a petty slap.
CC’ing HR?
Glorious.
CC’ing Cynthia every single time?
Diabolical.
By noon, Joy’s and Lotus’s inboxes looked like a coordinated revolt.
And HR’s inbox?
Incinerated.
Then came the last email
the big one.
To: President Akio Aalam; Vice President Cadeyrn Takeda
Subject: URGENT – Third-Floor Integrity & System Risk
Three floors up, Aalam skimmed it between calls, eyes unreadable.
He forwarded it to Cadeyrn.
Cadeyrn typed five words:
“Have Cynthia handle this. –C.”
Fifteen minutes later, Cynthia responded:
“Please file through standard channels.”
Joy read it aloud, voice sugar-sweet.
Joy: “Translation: sit down, peasants.”
Lotus: “No. Translation: game on.”
The third floor watched it all in awe.
“THIS is management.”
“We been needing y’all energy for years!”
“Forward that one too oh, they gonna be BIG mad.”
Lotus and Joy worked in perfect sync, shutting down chaos with professionalism so sharp it drew blood.
Even Paul whispered,
“We are witnessing greatness,”
like he was in the front row at a Beyoncé concert