Free An Executive Decision by Grace Marshall

alarm went off, too stressed to go back to sleep, and then the whole process started over again. It seemed like every night she got home later and slept less. She was sure she was running on adrenalin by now, but with the help of lots of caffeine and an acute fear of failure, she was managing. When panic threatened to take control, she buried herself deeper in the mountain of files and had some more caffeine, reminding herself Ellis and Beverly had faith in her, and she wasn’t about to fail them.
    Everything was gearing up for a big teleconference with Marston and Scribal Paper, in which Dee was to give the financial projections and a short spiel on some of the research Wade Crittenden had been doing. Wade never made public appearances, nearly hyperventilated at the very thought, so it was up to her to promote Pneuma Inc.’s latest brainchild. At best, it was a temporary fix, and an effort to convince Marston not to consider Jamison Holding’s tantalizing deal of a cheap clear-cut in a part of the world no one cared about. The proposal would be a hard sell, definitely – and one complicated by the fact that, since Beverly’s death, Marston was still refusing to work with anyone but Ellis. Hopefully the presentation would help ease her into Marston’s good graces, of which there seemed to be precious few these days.
    The problem was she hadn’t received the financial information she needed from accounting. Her requests had gone unanswered and, at last, she gave up and decided to go after the file in person.
    When she got off the elevator on the sixth floor, she could hear the yelling halfway down the hall. She was surprised to find the uproar was coming from Tally Barnes’s office, and the door was standing wide open. It wasn’t hard to hear what was going on; in fact, she figured most of accounting could hear.
    ‘What is it, Pneuma Inc.’s new policy to hire morons? And fat ones at that. If you can’t follow simple directions, maybe we can find you a job with the janitorial staff. It shouldn’t take too much brain power to push a mop, and from the looks of you, the exercise would do you good.’
    ‘But you told me to –’
    ‘Don’t tell me what I told you. I know what I told you.’ Tally shoved a file at the flustered woman. ‘Get out of here, and don’t come back until you get it right.’
    Through the open door, Dee could see a dressed-for-success blonde with shoulder-length hair and artfully done make-up seated behind the desk. She would have been attractive if not for the venom spewing past her carefully painted lips. She was in mid-rant to one of the secretarial staff Dee had met earlier. The woman, who looked to be barely out of her teens, stood red-faced, shifting from foot to foot.
    Dee was about to tiptoe away quietly and come back when things were calmer, but it was too late. Tally had seen her.
    ‘Dee Henning! What a pleasant surprise. I wondered when you were going to do us the honour.’
    The secretary apologised quietly as she pushed past Dee with her head down, but Dee thought she saw tears. She tried to offer the poor thing a reassuring smile, but she was interrupted.
    ‘Never mind her. She’s just incompetent, like so many people these days. I’m Tally Barnes.’ She stood to offer Dee an overly firm handshake, looking down at her from several extra inches of height. Her long acrylic nails made her grip a bit worrisome. ‘Everyone at Pneuma Inc. has been talking about Dee Henning, the wonder girl. At last we meet.’ She offered Dee a smile pressed tightly against impossibly white teeth.
    Dee remembered Tally Barnes. Hers had been one of the resumes she’d reviewed for the executive assistant’s position, one she’d found reasonably impressive. She knew the woman was more qualified for the job than she was. Perhaps she would have felt a little more guilty about the whole situation had she not just seen Tally’s mistreatment of the young secretary. Was Tally one of those