“Deep breaths people, Georgia’s calling an emergency brainstorming session.”
The office stilled, heads turning to where Jackson stood in the doorway, he gave them his best I-know-it’s-ridiculous-please-don’t-shoot-the-messenger look and got the team’s various signs of exasperation in response.
Milla leaned back in her chair, and asked the inevitable question. “When, where, and what the hell are we fixing for her this time?”
“Right now, boardroom, and…” Did he really have to tell them? Maybe it would be best to leave it to Georgia.
“And?”
“Um, maybe the boss should…”
The others were standing, gathering their things, but they all stopped and glared.
He sighed. “Fine, she wants us to stop all work that’s, you know, bringing in money, to come up with summer work experience options for her son.”
“The twenty-two-year-old son who hasn’t spoken to her since she had the affair, and is studying business and law so he can keep his dad’s firm out of her ‘greedy, incompetent grasp’?”
It seemed Soraya had info Jackson hadn’t. “He said that?”
“Oops, pretend I said nothing, sorry.” Soraya didn’t look sorry at all. “I just happened to overhear him at the pub last weekend.” She grinned, her evil one that made Jackson’s knees wobble. “Of course it would be difficult not to overhear him since we were sitting at the same table, and he was offering to bribe me to spy.”
The grin that meant trouble spread across the office. Milla patted Jackson on the shoulder as she headed for the lifts. “The poor boy clearly needs some time in a more…artistic…space. Creative, visual, cultural, you know? Balance all that logic and hard evidence.”
Jackson called after her. “Build up to it. Suggesting he comes here straight away is going to be too obvious, even for her.”
He got a thumbs-up as the lift doors closed on the creative team. This was going to be a long summer.
The DNA of Stories 