You Fired Your Landlord

I had been with the company for eleven years.

Then the owners son appeared out of thin air and became my new boss.

To establish his authority, he decided to make an example of a veteran employee. That veteran was me. The first fire he lit was right under my chair.

In front of our biggest client, he threw a cup of coffee squarely in my face. This is what you serve our most important partner? This swill? Youre embarrassing the entire company.

Rage boiled in my lungs, but for the sake of the firmmy firm, in so many waysI swallowed the jagged pieces of my pride and endured it.

At the next company-wide meeting, he slammed my proposal onto the floor. This isnt a retirement home. We cant afford to carry dead weight like you who just takes up space.

The next day, I didnt quit.

Instead, I had my personal assistant post a notice on the digital display in the lobby of the corporate building:

Due to the emotional instability of the renting party's management, the lease for the 17th floor will not be renewed upon its expiration next month.

1

That notice sent a shockwave through the company.

But the aftershocks hadnt yet reached Preston Hayess feet. He probably figured his mother would hold up the sky if it ever decided to fall. His most pressing concern at the moment was pulling me out of his side like the thorn Id become.

Ian. Im surprised you have the nerve to show your face here today.

Id just sat down at my desk when Prestons voice slithered over my shoulder. He stood over me, arms crossed, chin tilted at an angle that suggested a deep personal relationship with the ceiling tiles.

I thought after yesterdays dressing-down, youd have the decency to pack your things and crawl away. Youve got a thick skin, Ill give you that.

I didnt even look up, just calmly booted up my computer. Preston, its working hours.

My composure seemed to needle him. He let out a sharp, grating laugh. Work? Fine. Lets find you some work, then. Cant have anyone saying Horizon Media Group pays people to do nothing.

He slapped a file onto my desk so hard that the water in my glass sloshed onto the surface.

That Seraphina Monroe account. Youve been on that for a while, havent you?

A knot formed in my stomach.

Ms. Monroe. The most important partner who had been sitting right there yesterday when Preston had thrown his fitand his coffeeat me. She was the firms biggest client of the year, the head of a project Id personally nurtured for six months.

After yesterdays fiasco, her assistant had called, politely informing us that the partnership required re-evaluation.

Preston was setting me up to take the fall.

Ms. Monroe has already made it clear shes terminating the contract. I want you to go over there and win her back.

He dropped the command like a dead weight, then turned and swaggered away in his polished Italian loafers. He paused at the end of the aisle and added, And if you cant, dont blame me when I humiliate you in front of the entire company. Again.

It was a mission impossible. Everyone in the office knew it. This was Prestons way of forcing my resignation.

A colleague, Rick, leaned over from the next cubicle. Ian, hes just trying to screw with you. Nobody could land that account now. Its a suicide mission.

I managed a tight smile but said nothing.

Picking up my phone, I dialed Seraphina Monroes assistant.

Hello, this is Ian Wright.

There was a brief silence on the other end.

Mr. Wright. Hello.

Id like to request a meeting with Ms. Monroe. Just to discuss the project itself, one last time. Regardless of the outcome, I feel we both deserve a proper conclusion.

The assistant sounded hesitant but agreed to pass along the request.

Five minutes later, my phone rang.

Mr. Wright, Ms. Monroe has agreed. This afternoon at three, at The Cypress Lounge.

I hung up, a strange calm settling over me.

When Preston saw that Id actually secured the meeting, a flash of disbelief crossed his face before he masked it with a sneer. Well, look at you. Dont get your hopes up. You know the consequences if you come back empty-handed.

I ignored him and began preparing the materials for the meeting.

Half an hour before I was due to leave, I walked toward the printer with the freshly organized proposal. Preston emerged from the break room with a cup of coffee, almost as if hed been waiting for me.

As he passed, his shoulder slammed into mine in a way that was anything but accidental. The folder flew from my grasp, and a snowstorm of white paper scattered across the floor.

Oh, my God, I am so sorry, he said, his voice dripping with mock concern while his eyes danced with triumph. I didn't see you there.

Before I could even bend down, one of his shiny leather shoes landed squarely, deliberately, on the most critical pages of the proposalthe architectural diagrams. He ground his heel into them, leaving a dirty, scuffed footprint.

He leaned down, his voice a low hiss only I could hear. Its all just garbage anyway. Dont thank me for helping you take it out.

2

A dead silence fell over the surrounding cubicles. No one dared to even breathe.

Preston savored the moment, watching me, waiting for the explosion he so clearly craved.

But I just looked down at the ruined proposal. Then I lifted my gaze to meet his and offered a serene smile.

Its alright, Preston. You have a good day. Watch your step, its a long way down.

With that, I picked up my flash drive from the floor and walked away.

The smirk on Prestons face froze, his victory curdling. This was not the reaction hed been expecting.

Once outside, I went straight to a print shop near the lounge and had a fresh copy of the proposal printed and bound.

The Cypress Lounge.

The atmosphere was serene, the decor minimalist and calming.

Seraphina Monroe was already there when I arrived. She wore a tailored, casual blazer, her focus entirely on the delicate tea set before her. She radiated a quiet confidence.

When she saw me, she looked up, her eyes lingering on my face for a half-second too long.

Mr. Wright. Please, sit. Her voice was softer, warmer than it had sounded over the phone.

Ms. Monroe, I want to apologize for yesterdays scene, I said, getting straight to the point.

She waved a hand dismissively. I have no interest in commenting on your companys internal politics.

Her tone was even, but her words were sharp. I only want to know one thing. If a company cant respect its own senior staff, how can I possibly trust it to respect my project?

The question was a dagger, pointed and direct.

I paused for a moment.

Youre right, Ms. Monroe. I wont make excuses for my company, or for anyone in it.

I pushed the newly printed proposal across the table toward her.

I came here today simply as the project lead, to give the proposal Ive spent the last six months of my life on the presentation it deserves. Its my responsibility, and its the respect your project is owed.

I didnt mention Preston. I didnt play the victim. I just walked her through every detail of the plan, every creative decision, and all the groundwork our team had laid.

Seraphina listened quietly, never interrupting.

When I finished, she spoke slowly. Ian.

It was the first time shed used my first name.

This proposal is excellent. Better, even, than I had anticipated.

I felt a sliver of relief.

But, she continued, her tone shifting, my contract is with a team, with a company. Not with one man.

I understand, I said, nodding as I gathered my materials, preparing to leave.

Just as I stood up, she said, I will reconsider the partnership.

The ambiguity of her statement caught me completely off guard.

Back at the office, my colleagues looked at me as if I were a soldier returning from a hopeless battle. Preston, of course, was the first to charge.

So? Rejected, werent you? I told you you were useless!

I ignored him and walked back to my desk.

He followed, his voice rising an octave. Whats wrong? Cat got your tongue? Have your resignation letter on my desk by tomorrow morning. Dont make me do it for you!

Just then, my phone rang.

It was Seraphina Monroes assistant.

Mr. Wright, Ms. Monroe asked me to inform you that the partnership is moving forward. However

The entire office was so quiet you could hear a pin drop.

She has stipulated that you are to be the sole point of contact for the project. She will be in touch with you personally to discuss the contractual details.

The color drained from Prestons face, then returned in mottled shades of red and purple, as if his blood were at war with itself.

3

Preston Hayes had probably never been so humiliated in his entire life.

Hed tried to use this project to force me out, but instead, the project was back on, and all the credit was being laid at my feet.

The look he gave me was murderous. But he couldnt lash out in front of everyone, so he forced a smile that looked more like a grimace.

Well done, Ian. Guess even a blind squirrel finds a nut once in a while.

With that, he stormed into his office, slamming the door behind him.

The next few days were quiet. Preston left me alone, though every time we passed in the hallway, his glare was sharp enough to cut glass. I ignored his petty theatrics and poured all my energy into Seraphinas project.

One day, while I was in a video conference with her team, Preston barged in.

Ian, I need you outside. Now.

His tone was hostile. I frowned, apologized to the people on the screen, and stepped out.

What is it, Preston?

You know the company is moving next month, right? he asked, the question coming out of nowhere.

I suppressed a smirk. Of course I knew. I was the one who had my assistant post the non-renewal notice.

But on the surface, I remained impassive. I heard something about that.

My mother wants you to handle finding the new office space. The requirements are: a location no worse than our current one, a space no smaller, and the rent has to be cheaper.

He finished, then crossed his arms, a smug, expectant look on his face. He added, Besides, the landlord of this dump is a pain in the ass. So many rules. Itll be good to move. My mom is sick of dealing with the headaches over the lease.

It was another perfectly designed trap. Prime office space in the central business district was nearly impossible to come by. Adding the cheaper rent condition made it a fools errand. He wanted to watch me scramble and fail, giving him the perfect excuse to fire me for incompetence.

Understood, I said flatly.

This came directly from my mother. If you screw this up, dont expect any mercy, he threatened.

I didnt grace him with another response and turned back to my meeting. I could feel his eyes burning into my back as I walked away.

He thought I couldnt do it.

He had no idea that I owned nearly all of the top-tier office buildings in the entire CBD.

If I wanted him to move, he would move.

And if I didnt want him to find a new office, he would never lease another decent square foot in this city again.

Over the next few days, I went about my work as usual, never mentioning the search for a new property. Preston grew impatient, repeatedly stopping by my desk to ask for updates.

Ian, hows the search going? Dont you dare slack off on me!

Im looking into it, was always my reply.

His patience finally snapped. This afternoon, he marched to my desk and threw a stack of papers in my face.

This is what youve found? A bunch of dumps in the middle of nowhere? Do you want us to move the company to the suburbs to be eaten alive by mosquitoes?

The edge of a paper sliced my cheek, a sharp, stinging pain.

I looked up at him, my expression cold. Preston, for a prime location in the CBD, this is what the budget allows.

I dont care! My mother gave you this task, and you will get it done! If you cant, then you can get the hell out! he screamed, his voice echoing through the silent office.

Everyone was frozen at their desks.

Slowly, one by one, I picked up the scattered papers from the floor. Then, I looked directly at him and said, enunciating every word, Preston, theres something you might not understand.

Over half of the Class-A office buildings in this CBD are owned by a single individual.

And that individual has a reputation for being particular. He has a strong aversion to unprofessional, emotionally volatile, and frankly rude tenants in his properties.

Preston stared at me, a flicker of confusion in his eyes. He didnt get it.

I smiled, pulled out my phone, and dialed my assistant.

I put the call on speaker.

Marcus, please notify all CBD property managers. Add Horizon Media Group to the restricted leasing list.

A crisp, respectful voice came from the other end. Right away, Mr. Wright.

I paused for effect. And Marcus? I dont want to see that company name in any of my buildings. Ever.

The office was utterly, profoundly silent.

Mr. Wright? Prestons voice trembled, as if hed just seen a ghost.

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