“Quinn wants you. His office. Now,” Stephen announced without pleasantries.
Vanessa groaned. “It’s too early to fire his staff, don’t you think?”
Now Stephen looked uncomfortable. “Maybe I should have a talk with him too. Things got out of hand on our part. It was my stupid bet that started all of this.”
“Save it. I’ll go see him now.” Vanessa sighed. “I’ll pack my things afterward.”
“I don’t think he’ll go that far. You’re one of the best designers we’ve ever had. Quinn never fired anyone for personal problems. The party wasn’t work related.”
Vanessa forced a smile. “We’re talking about Lord Demon here. Let’s hope that EA or Pixar has a job opening that suits my talents. Otherwise, I have to move in with my folks.” She shuddered. What would her mother say to her? Or her busybody sisters? In her family, her only pride was her stable life, academic achievement, and her career. Getting fired from work was the worst humiliation that she could suffer.
Avoiding the pitying stares of Stephen and others, Vanessa squared her shoulders and marched to Quinn’s office on the top floor, like a brave soldier. She avoided the elevator. Instead, she used the stairwell to make her walk to the gallows seem longer. Man, she was going to miss this place.
Animatrica was one of few studios in North America that offered generous perks to its employees. They hired an in-house chef to cater workers’ lunches and dinners. There was a free gym, recreational lounge, laundry center, and a quiet place where the employees could take a nap. Not to mention the free fresh fruit and snack bar. And in return, Animatrica expected you to “practically live” at work, which she had no problem doing, considering she was single. Eighty percent of its employees were under the age of thirty and workaholics just like her.
The company got popular about eighteen months ago when its gaming apps became a worldwide sensation. A Silicon Valley tech giant bought the rights for a cool $6.2 billion, putting Quinn’s family a newly minted Forbes’ list of the nouveau riche. And a highly anticipated sequel was currently under development—the very game Vanessa and her team had been working on since spring.
If she got fired today, that meant she had to kiss the project goodbye. Her blood, sweat and tears. That game was her baby.
Just thinking about it made her want to cry.
Vanessa blinked back her tears and pushed the stairwell door open. The fifth floor of the building was manned by a hag named Mary, the floor secretary—probably the oldest of the employees at Animatrica. Rumor said she was in her fifties.
And today, Mary greeted her with a dark scowl usually saved for the unfortunate souls who had to go to the fifth floor to deal with one of the managers.
Vanessa motioned toward Quinn’s office. “I was told His Lordship wanted me.”
Mary wasn’t amused by her joke. She gave her the iciest stare before she flicked her wrist, telling her to “go.”
Vanessa wheeled around and exhaled deep before knocking on Quinn’s office door. It was ajar.
“Come in,” a deep, mellifluous, basso profondo kind of voice replied.
Vanessa had forgotten to breathe for a moment. “You wanted to see me, Quinn?” He insisted that he remain on a first name basis with all his employees.
He lifted his gaze from his computer screen. His expression was bland, and betrayed nothing. “Please close the door behind you.”
Vanessa winced inwardly. Argh. Not a good sign. Quinn was an advocate of transparency. He rarely told his employees to close the door of his office. Unless he fired people. Jesus. Her heart dropped into her guts. This was it. She was done for. Her fate had been sealed. She braced herself for the forthcoming unpleasantness. She promised herself she wouldn’t cry afterward. Because nothing was more degrading than crying at work after losing a job. Of course, she had never been fired before, but there was the first time for everything.
She closed the door with a soft click.
Quinn waved at the empty chair in front of his desk. “Have a seat, Vanessa.”
Like a rusty robot too frightened to squeak, she slowly planted herself in the aforementioned chair. She nervously scanned her surroundings, taking it all in. It seemed Quinn had prepared for her termination. There was usually no extra chair by his desk. He received his guests in the library or the private conference room.