Chapter Twelve
In the boardroom, Drew stifled a yawn as George rambled on. Dad stared at the HR director, completely focused, but Drew blinked hard to ward off sleep. A catered dinner hadn’t improved the hiring strategy session any; neither had the crappy coffee.
He and George had already conducted thirty interviews today, one monotonous paper-doll candidate after another. Whether male or female, they dressed the same—navy suit and short hair. They were “people” people, organized with communication skills. Too bad they didn’t have interview aptitude.
Drew was ready to tear his hair out. The day needed to end. At least tomorrow’s interviews for the higher positions yielded fewer applicants. The people might be more interesting. George had the situation under control. But for some reason, Drew remained, at a dinner meeting, to discuss today’s potentials with his dad.
Drew’s phone buzzed, rousing him from his stupor. He glanced at the screen. Terese. Thank God. The text might get him out of here if he played his cards right. He’d planned to run over to Terese’s place tonight.
The phone’s clock read 11:00 p.m. A soft grumble issued from his lips. No date tonight, then. Maybe a little sexting here at the table. He pressed his lips together, hiding his amusement.
“Spencer, Drew, what did you think of Mary Harper?” George asked. Drew’s head snapped up from his phone.
“Are we keeping you from something?” Dad’s eyes glinted. Drew never should’ve told him about his new girl. The man lived for details and pushed Drew at every chance.
Ignoring his father, he rewound his thoughts, scrambling to remember the candidate. He shuffled the files piled high in front of him. “What position?” He was lost. He knew it. George knew it. And Dad knew it. Grimacing, he threw his hands up.
Dad cleared his throat. “Maybe it’s time to call it a night, boys. What do you say?”
George fluttered files in both of his hands. “But Spencer, there are so many people to sort out, and with the bigger interviews tomorrow…I don’t think we can wait any longer to go over these minor positions. I—”
With a mild pat on George’s arm, Dad cut him off. “Look, George. You’re up to your ass in this. And with your team scattered to the four winds, it’s been difficult.” George harrumphed. “I know. Drew is trying to help you, but he doesn’t have the human resources background you do. So, my friend, let’s take a breath and let it sit until morning.”
“But Spencer, setbacks are bound to happen if we don’t have the key personnel in place. The medical convention in two months is our first big show. The whole project could flop if we don’t do it right.” A fine sheen of sweat covered George’s forehead, and his cheeks held a red tinge.
Spencer lowered his voice, grasping George’s arm. “I think we need to go home and get a good night’s sleep.” As his dad’s eyes darted to Drew for a second, embarrassment flooded over Drew as he caught his father’s innuendo. Yeah, he needed some sleep. They all did. “It’s after eleven, and we aren’t any closer to finalizing the junior staff than we were an hour ago. Time to stop.”
Dad straightened his files and stood.
“But, sir!” The HR director half rose from his chair, a look of panic on his face. “We can’t…we have to…”
Dad said nothing, merely lowered his gaze on George. Drew had seen that expression a million times over the dinner table, his father’s “keep talking at your peril” look.
“George, we are going home. Make your own decision.” He snagged his suit jacket from the back of his chair, putting it on with a flourish. “Good night, gentlemen.” With finality in his words, he left the conference room.
Drew slowly gathered up his files, then his father’s. George didn’t move. He sat in his seat, red-faced and sweating, his eyes bulging from his head. He tried to speak, his mouth opening and closing, but no words emerged. Drew knelt beside his chair, placing his arm on George’s.
“You okay?” he asked. George turned to him, such sadness in his expression.
“I’m not built for this, Drew. I can’t staff two buildings and keep track of our own people by myself.” He sniffled, actually sniffled. “We’re going too big, too fast. Everything’s a mess.”
Drew squeezed George’s arm, then dashed off to fetch some water for the poor guy. Handing him an icy bottle, he tried to sooth his co-worker. “I know the project has been a huge undertaking. In my department, we pulled our hair out over the finances and the construction. It pained us to see all that money go out the door week after week. But we’re almost there. Tomorrow’s interviews will be cake. The second batch of candidates will be easier to place than these blank slates.” He gestured to the piles of resumes for the lower positions.
George studied his water bottle. “I don’t know, Drew. These might be tougher. We need building managers, event coordinators, head chefs and…” He downed his drink as if it were whiskey. “I just…”
“George,” Drew said. “I’ll take the files home and go over tonight. That way you can sit back and relax tomorrow.”
The HR director sat up straighter and grasped the pile of folders in front of him. “No! I have to study them tonight. I have to be ready. I wanted to have the other people in place before now. But your dad walked out and…”
“Without your team, having everyone in place isn’t possible. You have me and Dad. We’ll do what we can.”
“But what if we lose out on someone great because we hesitated and then the first convention is a disaster and then…” George totally panicked. Drew quickly retrieved another water.
“Go home. Get some sleep. Come in early tomorrow, and we’ll make some decisions about the junior staff before the first interview.”
“I don’t…”
“George, it’s eleven at night. We both need some sleep or at least a break. Come on, man. The boss left.”
George peeked up at him, pink-cheeked and rummy-eyed. He so didn’t want to let go. Drew understood the pressure. But Drake Industries and Spencer, especially, never turned the screws this tight on any employee. George was doing it to himself. Drew sympathized. After years of school, pushing himself to be the best, continuing that standard at work, these few days with Terese showed him life beyond Drake Industries.
“Oh, all right,” George said, his voice hollow and empty. “I guess it can wait a few hours.” He gathered up his files and slumped out of the room toward his office.
Drew watched him leave with a twinge of relief and regret. Poor George. He really needed to step back a bit. Drew sat for a minute, gazing into space, until his mind focused on one thought—Terese.
He checked his phone. Her invitation text glowed up at him. He sat staring at the words, wanting to rush to her place and spend another night in heaven. The stack of files still on the conference table caught his eye. They hadn’t made much progress, and the deadlines were approaching. He cursed his father for throwing him into the fire.
It was a test. They both knew it, and as always, Drew wanted to pass with flying colors. It meant skipping a date with the woman of his dreams. Grumbling, he declined her invitation.