I hadn't officially quit yet. I'm professional enough to give a two weeks' notice—though today would be just fine. The hiring team had already interviewed Ms. Fallon, and I was right: the British accent worked. The other designers didn't believe I was leaving, but the announcement about Ms. Fallon—and my practically empty desk—said everything.
Everyone had met her except Mr. Fabrizi. He thought it was all a prank. But I'd assured him, through constant emails, that it wasn't. In response to his endless questions—why I was quitting, what was really going on—I'd simply written: for personal reasons. At least he'd had the decency not to pry any further. After I escorted Ms. Fallon out and told her he wasn't available to meet, I was called back up to his office.
"You can't quit," he said, as though it were fact.
He stood staring out the window while I tried to manage my irritation—at him and at the baggy shadows under his eyes. Clearly, he hadn't been sleeping.
"Ms. Fallon's paperwork is on your desk—and on mine. It's also been emailed to you in case you lose it."
I'd never been this firm with him before. It was almost terrifying. With no real response from him, I left and walked into the break room for a cup of peace.
The designers Jacob and Cherry tiptoed in after me.
"Guess we'll be handing him his breakfast at four a.m."
"It's actually four-thirty," I said, sipping my green tea.
"I guess we'll have to tie his shoes—and his tie."
"Ms. Fallon is aware of his habits. She said she's capable."
"What if she's fired on day one?"
I turned to Jacob and Cherry. They, like everyone else, seemed to think their jobs would be in jeopardy the moment I left. But that wasn't my concern, because it wasn't going to happen.
"My priority is finding the best replacement. You've met her, and I've heard the wonderful things you've said. I'll miss everyone—but it's time for me to go."
"Everyone? Even Mr. Fabrizi?"
"Yes, even Mr. Fabrizi."
It was sarcasm, of course. But guess who just happened to be standing in the doorway when I said it—making me spit my wonderful tea onto the counter?
The horror I felt was unlike anything I'd ever experienced. I don't even know how he took it. His eyebrows lifted slightly, and then he pivoted back toward his office without a word. Jacob and Cherry exchanged the same wide-eyed look he had, then quietly left. All I could think was this: the sooner Ms. Fallon could start, the better.