Clinging to her shredded pride, she shook her head and hurried to the door. She would not cry. Not here. She refused to let him see her fall apart. “I understand you’re not the man I thought you were. Good-bye, Paul.”
“Wait. You said you had something to tell me?”
She laughed, a bit hysterically, and opened the door. No need for true confessions on her part. What she had to say now would be quick, unrehearsed, and straight to the point. Without turning to look at him, she replied, “I resign, effective immediately. For obvious reasons, I decline the exit interview with HR.”
Chapter Four
Rafe fanned a handful of bonus envelopes onto Barrington’s desk. “These still need to be delivered to the employees.” From his seat in the guest chair, he absently studied the overblown desk and weighty bookshelves. Not his taste. It reminded him of a cut-rate version of his father’s office at St. Sebastian Enterprises’ New York headquarters.
Barrington glanced at the envelopes. “Leave them with me. I’ll have payroll mail them to the employees.”
“One is Chelsea Wayne’s. I saw her earlier today. I’d like to go ahead and deliver it. Can you direct me to her office?”
“She’s not here. Chelsea resigned shortly after the party.”
Shit. Had she resigned because of what happened in the supply closet? If so, what reason had she given Barrington? He couldn’t afford rumors of misconduct to pollute this deal. His father’s conditions for stepping down as chairman of the board had been very clear: three completed acquisitions, flawlessly executed and seamlessly integrated. Las Ventanas brought the count to two. At least it had, until this afternoon, when he’d given in to the rush of taking a risk. Now the goal he’d been chasing started spiraling out of reach like a fly ball he’d taken his eye off for one second too long.
“Resigned? That’s very sudden, isn’t it?” He kept his voice cool, despite his concern, and eyed Barrington until the other man lifted his head and returned his stare. “After all, she’s a rising star at Las Ventanas. We had plans for her.”
Barrington’s gaze slithered away and he cleared his throat. “I had to deliver some disappointing personal news to her today. Being unprofessional and immature, she reacted by tendering her resignation.”
The ground firmed under his feet and the trajectory between goal and attainment aligned once again. Her departure didn’t revolve around their case of mistaken identity. Even so, her resignation presented a problem, and, more frustrating, Barrington didn’t seem to appreciate that fact. “I’m surprised you’re so calm about it, Paul. A source gave me the impression you and Chelsea were close. Some would say intimate.” Since his “source” was Chelsea herself, he felt reasonably confident making the statement.
The helmet-headed blowhard chuckled and wagged a finger at him. “Your sources are good, but not quite up-to-date. We dated, casually, for the past few months, but I broke things off with her today.” He sighed, as if burdened by the strain of the ordeal. “Chelsea took it hard. She opted to resign.”
“And you let her? St. Sebastian considers her a key employee. The sellers told us she played an instrumental role in realizing Las Ventanas’ potential as a family resort. Before then, it was just another pleasant but unremarkable property vying for distinction in Montenido’s crowded romantic getaway market.”
Barrington frowned. “Chelsea and I partnered on the project. We both recognized our prime location and large number of multi-room suites meant Las Ventanas could position itself as an upscale, family-friendly destination. And, yes, with my guidance, she created a plan to successfully attract the demographic we targeted. However, with all due respect, I think you’re overstating the value of a single, second-tier employee.”
With all due respect generally meant none, and in this case the feeling was mutual. “You consider the assistant manager a second-tier employee?”
“She’s enthusiastic and full of ideas, but she’s also extremely green. Once the owners promoted me to general manager, I quickly realized mentoring her was a full-time job. It took someone with my business acumen to sift through all her ideas and separate the gold from the garbage. It took someone with my skills to turn those ideas into reality.”
What in God’s name had she seen in this dickhead? A St. Sebastian-caliber leader understood management’s role to attract talented, enthusiastic people to the team, and then give them the resources they needed to succeed, not minimize their contributions and take credit for their ideas. On that philosophy, he and his father steadfastly agreed, which meant Barrington had to go. Not immediately, because firing the general manager risked inciting a mass exodus as everyone assumed they were about to get canned, but he’d start a discreet search. He’d happily pull the plug on Barrington when they found the right successor. In the meantime, however, Chelsea’s sudden departure sent a negative message to other employees. Obviously, he needed to point that out. With all due respect.
“She’s good at her job, and popular with guests and staff. Allowing her to leave on the heels of the acquisition implies we dismissed her or she resigned rather than be associated with St. Sebastian. Neither implication is acceptable as they both give rise to an employee retention issue. Talk her out of it. At the very least, negotiate an extension.”
Paul looked as if he’d swallowed his tongue. “How in God’s name am I supposed to do that?”
Rafe stood and shrugged. “Use your business acumen to figure it out.”
“It’s not that simple. There’s a…complication.”
“It’s not complicated. I’ll break it down for you. Convince. Her. To. Stay.”
“I’m involved with another staff member,” he blurted. “I’m engaged to Cindy Ruffy. Under the circumstances, Chelsea’s departure is for the best.”
Fuck. If she had any pride, she sure as hell wasn’t going to stay. “Nice timing, Paul. You drop this on her at the holiday party, right after we announce the deal. What were you thinking?”
“I held out until the deal closed, so she didn’t leave while there was work to be done. But I couldn’t wait any longer. Cindy and I are starting a family. Her condition will become apparent, and she wants to get married before—”
“I get it,” he interrupted, not bothering to hide his impatience. Barrington couldn’t sink much lower in his estimation. St. Sebastian definitely did not want this guy. The sooner he found a replacement, the better. They’d manage the messaging to the staff, as they would the news about Chelsea’s departure.
Already focused on the next steps, he strode toward the door. What a mess. Luc wouldn’t miss the opportunity to point out he’d failed to identify a significant interpersonal cluster-fuck lurking below the surface at Las Ventanas. But it was containable. He paused at the door, and turned to Barrington. “Here’s how this is going to go down. We—meaning St. Sebastian’s corporate communications specialists, and not you, or Miss Ruffy, or anyone else—will handle the employee announcement regarding Chelsea’s departure. We’ll prepare a release for tomorrow morning. If I hear a whisper about it before then, both you and Miss Ruffy are fired. Understood?”
“B-but that’s completely unfair! Chelsea could say something to someone.”
“You should hope she has better things to do than broadcast her personal life.”