Rich and Bossy (Rich Boys)

26. Hazel

CHAPTER 26

Hazel

“Did you think it would get this big?” Jenny, one of the girls who works packing boxes, shoots me a grin as she picks up a stack of pamphlets to help hand out to workers as they come in.

She was one of the first people I spoke to, since the two of us have kind of been bitch buddies—that’s what we called ourselves anyway—for the last few months about how bad things have gotten.

“No. Absolutely not.” I laugh a little, because I know I can trust her. I don’t need to put on my media face. If anything, having a few hours to talk one-on-one with people I already know has been a refreshing break compared to the way the day started off.

This is what I’m suited for. I know Campbell has faith in me, and yeah, I think I did pretty good this morning. But these are the people I’m in it for. They’re the ones I want to spend time with. Who will benefit the most if we can get some changes around here.

And when I see Jim, whose hand is still bandaged up, I remember why.

“How are you feeling?” I ask, eyeing the bandage on his hand.

He shouldn’t even be working right now. That’s how this place goes, though. I’m sure he wants to keep his health insurance for his family, so he shows up and keeps plugging away.

“Fired up.” His voice booms when he says it. He then takes a pamphlet—as an afterthought, he grabs a few more, and I watch him walk over to a cluster of delivery drivers who just pulled up.

My adrenaline spikes, just watching him smile while he talks to them about everything going on. It’s amazing, seeing people finally ready to stand up, after feeling beaten down in this place for so long. It’s like they can smell they have a chance, like this is their only chance.

A few women who I recognize from other departments stare at me from across the warehouse. One of them shifts her weight back and forth from one foot to the other like she’s not sure she’s in the right place. I catch her eye and she looks away.

Instead of waiting for her to come to me, I stroll over to the group, making sure to take my time so they don’t feel like I’m rushing them.

“I know things look a little different out there today.” Not my best ice breaker, but it’ll do. I don’t think I’ve ever talked to them much, even though I know all their names.

I’ve been studying employee files all week, all the information I could gather online anyway.

One of the women—the oldest of the group, Monica—speaks first.

I can tell by the look on her face that I’m in for it. I didn’t see her behind them when I walked over, or I might have kept my distance.

“Why you making trouble like this? All some of us want to do is work, collect our paycheck, and go home to our families.” She then nudges the uncertain girl, the one who now looks like she wants to crawl into a hole and never come out. “My daughter here. She’s expecting her first baby in six months. Is she going to have a job when your little crusade is done? Or you going to get us all fired?”

“Mom.” The girl stares at her.

I know her name is Susie. They’ve both worked here for a while. Monica since the place opened, Susie going on five years.

“It’s not like that. This is a good thing she’s doing.”

“Oh, it’s a good thing?” She stares daggers at me, then turns back to her daughter. “How do you know what it’s like?” Monica glares at me, then back to the other ladies. “You heard the guy at the meeting. One out of six, that’s how many get fired when a union happens, you start up this kind of shit.” She turns back to me, pointing at her daughter. “Who’s going to pay her hospital bills when she loses her health insurance because you decided to stand up for all of us?” She sneers. “What are you gonna lose when it happens? You’re a kid. You’re a damn kid, and you’re messing with our lives. You don’t know what it’s like to live in the real world. This some kind of game where you get to be a hero? Yeah, I saw you on TV. I’m sure it’s fun for you, but some of us are going to live with the consequences when this circus show of yours falls on its face.”

I knew this kind of thing was going to happen. There are going to be people who are too afraid to want to move forward. I can’t hold it against them. I know nothing that’s coming from her is directed at me. She’s worried about her daughter. And her grandbaby.

As it turns out, I don’t need to say anything at all. Cheryl must have been standing somewhere nearby, and she suddenly appears from behind me.

I’m surprised half the warehouse didn’t hear the way she just raised her voice.

“I just had my first, too.” She steps between me and the women. “My baby just came home from the NICU last week. Where was I? I was here. Because I had already used up all my PTO after I delivered early.” Her tone is soft, but firm. No nonsense. “We’re trying to make it so your daughter doesn’t have to choose between keeping her job and being with her baby, that’s what we’re doing here. We’re trying to make sure you’re safe in this place, and that you get to enjoy that grandbaby of yours. You’ve seen what it’s like working through here, the kind of time we get off. We want to make sure you’re not laid-up because you had an accident running through this place or fired because you couldn’t get back and forth to the bathroom on time to get back to your station. This isn’t right. What they’re doing to us. Surely, you’ve seen that. You’ve been here longer than most of us and know how it used to be.”

Susie puts an arm around her mother’s shoulders. “We were just talking about this last week, Mom. I know you’re mad at this place, not Hazel. You know how good it used to be. You said it, how you used to feel like a respected worker, and now you feel expendable, like they don’t give a damn. A union could change that. Make it back how it was, for both of us to get to experience that.”

Hell, they’re all doing my job for me. I couldn’t be more grateful.

“I’m not trying to be a hero. I promise. I’m just fed up. I’m tired of watching my friends suffer.” I look around. “Some of these guys are like family to me. I want to make sure Susie has as easy a time as possible balancing her job and her family. I’m scared for myself too. Yeah, I’m young, and I don’t want to get some kind of injury that ruins my life. We’ve seen it happen to people. Enough is enough. They did this to themselves. I never wanted to do this. I just want them to do what’s right. We all work hard here, every one of us. We’re going to make them hear us.” I finish by extending a hand holding a pamphlet. “They want us divided on this. That’s how they’ll win, and nothing will change if that happens.”

Monica doesn’t look completely convinced, but she does take the pamphlet. One thing Campbell made sure to impart on me was the importance of small victories. This thing is a grind. You have to grind out every little advancement toward the goal. It’s just not possible to convince everyone all at once. So long as I get them thinking, I’ve done my job for the time being.

Campbell’s been watching, because she has a talent for noticing what could turn into a situation and stepping back to observe. She misses absolutely nothing. Now, she hands me a bottle of water when I walk back over to the little table we set up. “Gotta hydrate. You’re going to be doing a lot more talking today.”

“How did that go, do you think?”

“As well as it could. Your coworkers stepping in is a great sign. It makes the job easier, makes it feel less like you’re on a little island by yourself. It’s one thing to listen to you, but people tend to appreciate hearing the same message on repeat. It’s all human psychology. The more veterans like that lady you can win over, the faster and easier this thing will be. Those are the people everyone will listen to. They will win over the majority.”

“I obviously have a lot to learn.”

“You have a way with people. You understand them. You don’t push too hard, you stay composed when attacked for your age, you don’t speak in absolutes, but you still make your point clear and concise. You have a lot of great leadership qualities.”

“Really?”

She nods. “Yes. You just need a little more self-confidence, which is normal. I know it’s a lot of pressure, especially at your age.”

“I’ll keep that in mind moving forward.”

Her phone rings and she turns away to answer the call, leaving me to hand out more pamphlets and field a lot more questions. It’s inspiring, watching this spread, watching people encourage each other. I think we might actually be able to pull this off. It feels real, like it’s within our grasp.

Even if it means hurting Paxton.

Why does he always have to rear his gorgeous head every time I start to get a little hope? Like I don’t have enough on my mind without wrestling with guilt.

I’m sure he hates me by now, so it’s probably moot anyway. He probably regrets ever setting eyes on me. I could even handle that—I wouldn’t blame him in the least. It’s knowing he’ll think I used him that hurts worst of all. That was the last thing on my mind. I fell for him, hard. But now, I don’t know if I’ll ever have the chance to tell him.

He’s never going to want to talk to me again. I’m sure of that.

“Earth to Hazel.” Campbell waves a hand near my face, grinning. “You in there? I’ve been trying to tell you the New York Chronicle wants a quick phone call at some point today.”

“The New York Chronicle ?” This is still taking me by surprise. I know it shouldn’t, but it does, every single time. Me, talking to somebody from the Chronicle . Dad’s going to have to buy every newspaper in existence to keep a record of all this.

“I told you. David versus Goliath. There’s nothing the press likes more than an underdog story. We have most of their questions in advance, and have responded, but they want some direct quotes.” She takes a long drink from her water bottle, eyes going narrow when they meet mine. “What’s up?”

I force a smile. “Just tired. Really tired, but I’m here, I promise. I’m in this.”

And maybe it’s her understanding of human nature, or maybe it’s the time we’ve spent together so far, but either way she sees right through it. “You’re thinking about him, aren’t you?”

If anything, it’s a relief, having an excuse to talk about him. I know better than to lie to her. I don’t want to lie to her. I feel like I’ve done enough deceiving for a lifetime. “Is it that obvious?”

“Yes.” She laughs. “Because that’s exactly what I would be doing in your shoes.” She pats my shoulder, murmuring sympathetically. “I know it’s not easy.”

“Feeling like the world’s biggest jerk? You’re right. It’s not easy.”

“You are not a jerk. You did what you had to do, what all these people needed you to do. It was a tough decision, but it was selfless. You could’ve easily continued with what was best for you, dropped this, your relationship would have no issues. You chose not to do that, and he’ll respect that if he’s the right man for you. If not, you can draw your own conclusions from that.”

I see where she’s coming from. All it takes is a look around the warehouse to know this is what I was supposed to do.

She pats my shoulder again. “But I know that doesn’t help.” She smiles. “It’s an impossible situation.”

“I’m not trying to be difficult.”

“I know. The brain and the heart don’t always play well together.” She shrugs with a sigh. “And I know it doesn’t feel like it, but times like this… They’ll either destroy what you have with him, or they will make you infinitely stronger together. What are you going to do?”

“I feel like I should apologize, at least. I feel like I lied to him, just to enjoy myself a little longer. I couldn’t tell him though. I hope he gets that.”

“You should trust your instincts. I wish I could be more helpful.”

“I’m just worried you think I’m a traitor. I’m worried they’ll think that, if they find out what I’ve been doing with him.”

Now she looks stern, even scowling. “You did nothing wrong. You’re doing the best you can with the circumstances you were dealt. Don’t let anyone tell you differently.”

“I know, you’re right.” Still, I couldn’t help but wonder. All this work she’s put into this, I know she has to think this relationship, or whatever it is, is a serious liability.

What do I want to do? There’s no question about that, really. I want to see him, since I feel like I owe him at least that much. I want to say I’m sorry and explain. A face-to-face conversation, so if he wants to go off on me, he can get it out of his system. I really just don’t want him to hate me. I want him to know last night was real, and I want him to understand why I did what I did. I wasn’t trying to distract him. I really like him, a lot.

Just to be safe, though, I duck away to the ladies’ room. I doubt the odds of anybody seeing me send a message to our CEO are very high, but it’s stupid mistakes like that which could sink this ship before it has sailed. Now, all I have to do is figure out what to say. Should I ask him to meet me? Where the hell could we meet? I have no doubt his company has people following me now. It would be weird if they didn’t, considering they track us around this warehouse with wrist bands.

I wish he wasn’t who he is. Why couldn’t I fall for someone else? Someone who could support me and what I’m doing here. Someone to share my victories and defeats with, and to curl up in their arms after working a nineteen-hour day. Somebody who would celebrate with me and provide a shoulder when I need one. When I think about it that way, the whole thing strikes me as being so damn unfair.

I know he’s busy. I know he’s probably hurt.

I just—don’t want him to think I just did that and disappeared. It’s not right.

Before I have the chance to fumble my way through writing a message, I get one from him. I swear, it’s eerie. It’s like I could feel him thinking about me at the same exact moment I was thinking about him.

I’m almost surprised enough to drop the phone but manage at the last moment to maintain my grip.

Paxton: I need to see you. Tonight.

I’m about to ask where when my phone goes off a second time.

Paxton: The Condos next to where we looked out at the city that night. Unit 230. 10 PM. Make sure nobody sees you.

At least it’s late enough that I don’t think I’d be getting in the way of any interviews. Hell, even if he wanted to do it earlier, I’d be tempted to reschedule what Campbell has set up—and that would be a terrible idea, since we’re building momentum like crazy. At least I don’t have to worry about that part of it.

The bathroom door squeaks as it swings open. “Hey, Hazel? Campbell asked me to tell you the meeting is about to start.”

I don’t know who said it, standing outside the stall, but it’s enough to pull me back to the present moment. I can’t forget what I’m doing. I can’t let meeting with Paxton overrun all my thoughts all day. I have to be mentally sharp.

“Be right out.”

I wish I had time to say more, but my thumbs fly over the screen, so I can respond before I’m needed outside.

Me: Okay.