I haven't been able to hear what's around me for years. It seems boring just thinking about it.
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Carl left for Jefferson's office, but stopped walking when he saw so many offices, some entirely glass, others just plain walls. He didn't think this publishing building had such space; everything he'd seen before was so large. He didn't delve into his thoughts any further, but gestured to a passing employee to ask about Jefferson's office.
"Hello... Excuse me, but do you know where Mr. Jefferson's office is?"
"Yes, it's over there."
"Thank you."
The employee merely gave him a small smile in return.
The office she pointed to was almost the largest of the offices. It wasn't glass, but a wall-mounted office, covered in olive gray. A tall, ivory-colored door framed it with gypsum decorations. Carl walked quietly toward it, and when he arrived, he knocked lightly on the door.
"Come in." The answer came quickly. Carl grabbed the doorknob and turned it open, then entered and closed it behind him.
Jefferson didn't notice who had entered. He was engrossed in reading the many mail pieces scattered on his desk. In one hand, he held a sharp envelope opener and in the other, a pink envelope. Jefferson looked old. He wasn't old, but you could tell he was over sixty, judging by his white hair, the wrinkles that filled his face, and his dark blue hands.
"Uh-huh."
Carl made a hoarse sound, and the other took notice.
"Yes..."
Jefferson lifted his face from the envelope and spoke with indifference, annoyed by the attempt to interrupt him. He wanted to ask the person standing in front of him what he wanted, but stopped when he realized it was Carl McGland, the co-CEO.
"Mr. Carl... Welcome. Please come in."
The other man walked idly, his hands in his pockets, toward the wide, glossy black desk. He paused, looking restlessly at the papers scattered on it.
"I hear you... speak up. Tell me what you want?"
Carl looked at Jefferson for a moment, then up at the ceiling. He then looked up at the window, where the bright light was shining. Finally, he looked back at Jefferson. But that wasn't enough. He leaned his body toward Jefferson's face, placing his hands on the desk. He said, "Have you finished moving your things from the office?" I want the publishing house ready for renovations within a week, and don't forget to notify the underperforming employees whose contracts are to be terminated before the end of the week...
Then he straightened up, took hold of his shirtsleeve, opened it, and folded it upwards. He continued:
"As you know, Burton is highly skilled and professional in the editing and book cover design business, especially its reputation as a literary agent that every author seeks to secure a deal with... I think you get what I mean."
Jefferson remained silent the entire time, waiting for the other to finish speaking. Then, in an annoyed tone, he responded:
"Everything will be ready within this week, and I will fulfill all the conditions from my side, but don't forget to fulfill ours as well... Mr. Will Frank, do you remember him?" We've talked about him before. According to the agreement, he will be the new CEO of Albinowati, the future Kimmelster House. The editorial staff will retain their positions for a sufficient period before you judge their performance and terminate their employment contracts. As for the employees in the other units, their continued employment will be at your management's discretion. Also, the company headquarters will not be moved from Cleveland to New York, and Burton House has the right to consider it a subsidiary instead...
"I know, I know... Jefferson, what's wrong with you! Are you going to repeat the terms I agreed to myself? Just do your part of the agreement and don't worry about the rest... But you've really piqued my interest in Mr. Will Frank. I don't know, but you seem to care a lot about him!"
Jefferson gave him a sharp look, but that look changed when he asked about Will.
"Will... Will, of course I care about Will. Despite his young age, he's like my co-founder of Albinowati. He first worked for me part-time when he was a sophomore in high school. I didn't know he was still a student, of course, but his skill and experience in writing and editing caught my attention, and I didn't care about anything else. You could say that half of Albinowati's success is due to him alone. He has a keen eye for selecting the right stories and books for publication. I can't imagine the work without him. He's my companion in this field, and I can't abandon him."
Jefferson concluded his last sentence with a sad tone, his brown eyes shining into space, and then he let out a heavy sigh.
Carl noticed this and became even more curious about this Will Frank, but he didn't ask any further questions. He simply nodded to Jefferson and said, "I hope he continues like this and works just as hard for Kimmelster."
Well, then, I don't think there's anything more to say. I'll be leaving now. I'd like my office ready by tomorrow. As you know, there's a lot of work to be done.
"Of course. Have a nice day. See you."
"Goodbye," Carl replied.
He waved his hand, then walked out, clutching his coat and placing it over his right shoulder, heading out the door.
Carl isn't the kind of person who doesn't care about others at all. He's often considerate and tolerant. However, he's also very practical and professional. He likes his workflow to be clear and efficient, working from the most important things first and leaving no unfinished work behind. In fact, this is what he hates the most, about any employee who works for him, and it makes him very angry.
Apparently, he would never get used to this building. He had lost his way again, and didn't know where is the exit. He stopped suddenly in the corridor, shaking his head up and down, putting his hand over his lips, as if complaining about the very poor design of the building in his opinion. He looked around and found himself standing in a rather narrow hall, and on either side of it were two doors to two opposite rooms. One of them was on the right side, and there was no sign next to it explaining which room it was. The other was on the left side, and next to it was a sign that said (The Archives). He bent his body down to stretch a little, then turned around and went back the same way he came, as he had never taken this road before, but he suddenly stopped as if he remembered something... (Will Frank) Yes, who is this employee, I wonder? Why do I feel he is overrated here? Many questions came to his mind, one after the other, to the point that he remembered all the recommendations he had previously received from Jefferson in his name. This aroused his astonishment; So he decided to personally review the other's personal file in the archives department, or even take the file home with him if necessary. He wanted to judge for himself whether he was an employee worthy of all the talk about him, or whether he was simply a person with limited abilities who simply had the ability to deceive others. He began to suspect this due to the growing interest in him.
So he decided to return to the archives room and take Will's file with him. He took a few steps until he reached the door. He grabbed the door and turned the handle to open it, but the door wouldn't open. He tried once, twice, three times, but to no avail. The door was locked, which was not what he expected. At that point, he decided to ignore the matter anyway and focus on it another time, perhaps tomorrow. However, he was surprised by a voice from behind him:
"Excuse me, sir, but what are you doing here?"
The speaker was a woman who appeared to be in her fifties, very thin, with blonde hair. She was wearing a purple formal suit, with a fixed, unwavering gaze and thin, inward-curved lips.
- Nothing, I just wanted to look at some files from the archives, but I found the door locked. Never mind, I'm going anyway.
- Oh really, are you an employee of ours? You know, only certain authorized employees can access archive files.
(Do I have to introduce myself to their staff every time? Ah, that's the virtue of staying in New York for a while and missing the deal meetings.)
Carl muttered to himself, then decided to speak after putting on a face of vulgar politeness.
- Haha, as you know, I'm the new CEO.
The employee gave him a strange look, as if questioning what he was saying.
"Oh really? Mr. Simon Belguerre?"
"Yes, of course, in person. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go. Bye."
Carl didn't correct her, as he was busy cursing Simon to himself, wondering what Simon had done in his absence. Did he introduce himself as the CEO? Or were the employees of this company really suffering from something?
"Oh, of course I remember you, but your hair looks a little different."
Carl interrupted her: "Yes, I dyed it a while ago. You know, I'm getting older and I like to renew and follow fashion these days."
He finished with a small laugh.
"So, then, Mr. Simon, which file would you like to see?"
"The archive is closed now. Don't worry, I'll look for it when I come to work tomorrow." - I'm the archivist. I have the keys. Tell me which file you want and I'll bring it to you right away.
- Oh, really? Would it be okay if I looked it up myself?
- But that would take a lot of time, because you probably won't be able to familiarize yourself with our archiving system quickly, and as you know, and working hours are about to end.
- Miss?
- Cynthia.
- Yes, Miss Cynthia, give me the key now, and I'll look for the file myself. Then I'll lock the door when I leave, and you can collect the key from me tomorrow.
- I'm sorry, Mr. Simon, but that's my responsibility.
- I know, I know, you're right, but you can trust your new CEO.
He said the last sentence as a way of pressuring her to give him the key.
- Okay, Mr. Simon, go ahead. Our archive system follows the classic system: active and current documents on the right, followed by semi-active documents and records, and finally, inactive (archived) documents, one after the other. On the left, you'll find records relating to our past and present employees, as well as some other information and documents about the building's history and...
- Yes, of course, I understand. Thank you. You may leave now.
He paid no attention to what she said; he just wanted her to leave.
- Okay, good day.
Carl merely smiled and waited until she left. He then entered the archive room after opening the rattling iron door. He looked around impatiently. There were so many cabinets. Where should he start? He didn't think for long and went to the first cabinet on the right side of the room. He opened it and quickly scanned the titles with his eyes, scanning the files carefully and for a long time. When he didn't find what he wanted, he moved to the lower section of the cabinet and did the same with the files there. He had already finished checking five cabinets filled with files stacked haphazardly without the slightest degree of order. He began muttering to himself, panting with exhaustion:
"What is this? What is that Cynthia's job? The files are in a deplorable state and covered in dust. What a disregard! I must put an end to this. This building will only retain competent employees who truly deserve their positions."
Then he suddenly remembered Cynthia's words:
"And on the left side, you'll find records relating to the data of our former and current employees, as well as some other information and documents about the building's history and..."
He suddenly smiled and raised his head up, closing his eyes as he felt tired. He immediately left what he was holding and went to the left side of the room. He started opening the small cabinets attached to the wall. Next to it was an old desk with a large, antique wooden table on top of which was a small white lamp. There was no chair. There were many cabinets, but it seemed that Carl did not care about that after he checked almost half of the large cabinets.
He grabbed the first file from a cabinet labeled "2005." He paused before opening it and looked at his watch to see that it was 1:30 PM. He looked again at the file and opened it to browse through it. None of the files contained the information he was looking for; only a history of the beginnings of Albinuati Publishing House and interviews with Jefferson in newspapers. He closed the 2005 cabinet and opened the 2006 cabinet. He browsed through the files one by one, finding nothing. Then he paused to think: "Carl, what's wrong with you? Why are you putting so much effort into an employee who's above average? You'll soon see his competency, and you can fire him anyway!" He nodded and decided to return the files in his hand to the cabinet, close the archive room, and leave. At that moment, his eyes caught Will's name on one of the last three files. He couldn't believe he'd finally found it. He quickly looked at the year the files belonged to, which was 2008. He looked again at the file and pulled it out from among the others. This was something he hadn't expected: the file bore the name Will Christopher Bradwin. He felt extremely angry. He'd worked so hard for nothing. Where was that Will Frank file?
He couldn't believe he'd wasted nearly two hours of his day for nothing. He clenched the files in his hand tightly, then stood up from the table he'd sat at just moments before, thinking he'd finally found Will Frank's file.
He began randomly retrieving the files while cursing and swearing at himself. What was wrong with him today? What was happening to him? Meanwhile, he didn't notice the man standing behind him, waiting for him to finish. After he finished, he stood up and looked at his wrists, trying to put back the sleeves of his shirt, which he had rolled up a while ago. But he was surprised to find Bill standing by the door, clutching his square brown bag. He panicked and shouted at him.
"Hey, what's wrong? Why are you standing there without making a sound? What the hell happened to you today?"
"Mr. Carl, I'm sorry I scared you. Please calm down."
Bill was also alarmed by the CEO's reaction, which hadn't been the same when they first spoke.
Carl didn't respond and continued arranging his clothes, preparing to leave.
"Mr. Carl, is there anything you need help with? I can help you. I was the archivist before."
Carl gave him a stern look and said to himself, "No wonder it's like this."
- Really?
But he decided to ask him, hoping his time wouldn't be wasted for nothing.
- Yes, of course. Tell me what you want, and I'll get it for you right away.
- I want Will Frank's employee file.
- Will... Um... But why?
Carl gave him an angry look, and Bill changed his tone and said,
- Um... Will joined the house in 2008. You'll find his file there. Here, let me help you.
Bill went to the filing cabinet containing the 2008 issue and began searching through it.
Carl smiled a smile mixed with frustration and anger, then said,
- I just looked there. There's nothing.
- Oh... That's it. Here you go.
Bill interrupted him and held the file out to him.
Carl was silent for a moment, slightly relieved that he'd finally found it. Then he gave Bill a look that read, "Good job." But all that disappeared when he read the name on the file: "Will Christopher Bradwin," and his anger returned. - Are you making fun of me? I found this file before. I want the Will Frank file, the managing editor, not Will Christopher, damn it.
- Sir, hold on a minute. Will Frank is the same as Will Christopher Bradwin.
Carl suddenly stopped talking and looked at Bill in surprise!
- What do you mean? How can they be the same person with two completely different names? Did he change his name or something?
Bill didn't answer but continued to look at Carl.
- Speak up. Why are you suddenly silent?
- Mr. Carl, that's because... because Frank (Franklin) is the surname of Mr. Will's fiancé (Elijah Franklin).
Carl's eyebrows rose slightly, then he said,
- So, why are you saying it so hesitantly?
- That's because Mr. Will's fiancé died in a car accident eleven months ago, and Mr. Will didn't want to give up his surname even though it was illegal, meaning it wasn't really Mr. Will's surname.
Bill spoke very quickly, saying something he shouldn't have said.
Carl was astonished by what he heard, and stared into the void for a moment as if trying to process what he had just heard.
"Now, you must excuse me, Mr. Carl. I must leave. Please don't mention this to Mr. Will. He is very sensitive about this matter. Have a good day. Goodbye."
Bill left quickly after saying those few words, leaving the other in complete shock.
Carl leaned on the table behind him and held the file up to him to look at it. He didn't open it, nor did he want to, at least not at the time. He felt a shocking sensation that clouded his mind. He didn't know why, but he felt guilty.
(End of Chapter)
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Your opinions.
I didn't proofread. Sorry for any mistakes.
See you in the next chapter.