The other day, Jefferson summoned Ms. Anderson into his office, clad with weathered wooden panels and decorated with plaques and trophies.
"Ms. Anderson, have a seat," Jefferson had said in a voice blended with years of experience and authority. His keen eyes hideously studied the clue of apprehension flitting across the team leader's face.
"Thank you, sir," Anderson replied as she sat gingerly on the edge of the creaky visitor's chair opposite him.
On coming straight to the writ, Jefferson said, "I noticed members of your team working late yesterday." His stern expression was undecipherable, leaving Ms. Anderson wondering what to expect next.
"Well, yes, sir, there was this project..." Anderson began, but Jefferson raised a silencing hand.
"I loathe inefficiency, Ms. Anderson. Working overtime is a clear sign of that. I value resourcefulness and timeliness in this firm," he said, his gaze bore through the hapless woman in front of him.
"Well, sir, we..." Anderson stuttered, but she was cut off again by Jefferson. "And as the team leader, inefficiency falls onto your shoulders. I want you to take responsibility for this and as a gesture of apology, I expect you to buy dinner for your entire team, tonight."
His words, as always, were firm and absolute.
The room was filled with heavy silence, weighted by authority, there was no room for discussion.
"Yes, sir." Anderson choked out the only response she could muster. She dreaded the reality of shouldering such an unplanned financial burden. However, the reluctance was soon sucked into the vortex of responsibility and the command of not having an alternative because one did not discuss back with Jefferson, one only complied.
And that was how Ms. Anderson found herself doling out heaps of Dollar bills at the popular local diner that evening, serving her team an apologetic dinner, bought out of her own pocket...
--
As the evening crawled into the night, Jefferson surreptitiously joined the disarmed team at the local diner. An unexpected and slightly disconcerting guest, yet no one dared to voice out their concerns.
In the relaxed chatter and clinking cutlery, the mirth filled the air, concealing the undercurrent of unease that Jefferson's presence simmered. Ms. Anderson sat at the head of the table, her cheeks flushed with wine and her laughter a little louder than usual.
Lost in the revelry and the comforting effect of the alcohol, she had momentarily forgotten her troubles.
"Ms. Anderson," Jefferson addressed her during meal, over the bustle of conversations, "why exactly was Rita burdened with overtime that day?"
His voice sober, cutting through the relaxed atmosphere like a hot knife.
Caught off guard, Ms. Anderson paused, her intoxicated laughter fading on her lips as she turned to look at Jefferson, eyes clouded with the effects of the alcoholic beverages she'd been drinking.
"Well," she slurred, clumsily spearing a piece of steak with her fork, "Linda told me Rita was trying to make moves on you, sir."
Her voice was loud, attracting the attention of other team members who abruptly fell quiet, looking around with aghast expressions.
"I wanted to teach her a lesson!" she declared, oblivious to the growing silence and Rita who was not far away from her...
Her drunken laughter echoed in the hushed air as the rest of the team looked at each other, awkward and utterly speechless.
Rita, seated a few chairs away, turned an anguished deep crimson, causing whispers of disbelief to circulate the table.
--
Once the dust settled from the revelation, Jefferson found himself back home, with Rita.
Still feeling the heat on her face from the strikingly uncomfortable situation, Rita discussed her concern about Linda.
"Jefferson," she started, her voice timorous, "Please don't penalize Linda."
Why she would plead for the woman who had stirred the mess was beyond Jefferson's comprehension, but he listened, strictly professional.
"If you do, we might end up at odds," Rita reasoned, her honesty and concern surprising him.
"Give her another chance, please."
Jefferson sat there for a while, contemplating her words.
He respected Rita's courage to speak for the one who tried to tarnish her image. Thus, he found himself assenting to her plea, nodding in agreement to her request. "Alright, Rita, as you wish," he agreed solemnly.
Despite his decision to not discipline Linda directly, Jefferson resolved to exercise more caution with his once-trusted secretary.
At the breaking of the dawn, with a simmering frustration bubbling within him, he arrived at his office. His displeasure was palpable and it did not take long for the staff to sense the shift in their boss' demeanor. Linda was met with a stack of paperwork the moment she walked through the door.
Jefferson, behind his mahogany desk, gave her a stern look. "This needs to be completed today, Linda," he said firmly, his tone leaving no room for debate. "And remember," Jefferson added, fixing a stern gaze at her, "no working overtime."
Caught between his stern order and the mountain of work, Linda found herself reeling.
It was a clear day of no spreading rumors as every minute was crucial to finish the given task.
Lunch hour came and went, yet there was no respite for her. Sandwiched in her chair and surrounded by reams of spreadsheets and reports, she barely had time to grab a bite...
The clock was a merciless taskmaster, ticking seconds into minutes and minutes into hours. Each tick echoed in Linda's veins, driving her to type faster, calculate quicker.
By the time the large hand of the clock did its last round and the office reverberated with the strike of the last hour, Linda painstakingly placed the last completed report on Jefferson's desk.
She had done it. One minute to spare.
Exhausted, her eyes bleary, and her fingers cramped from incessant typing, she requested a day off.
As soon as the words escaped her lips, however, she learned about the team-building event scheduled for the following day.
The team, inclusive of Jefferson, was to spend a day at a beautiful private meadow - a rare opportunity squandered, Linda realized.
Furious, she tried retracting her request, but Jefferson promptly declined.
"Your day off stands, Linda. Use it as a rest day. Rejuvenate yourself," he ordered, leaving her with little to argue.
Linda could only grit her teeth and watch Jefferson exit the office, leaving her seething in her defeat.