respect. "Well Jack the time has e for me to get gone" he said brightly.
cold chill ran up my spine. "Jake e on in" Mr. ell offered, his
great shape blah blah blah. I was depressed and fused.
It was a Friday afternoon in early November. Mr. ell asked me into his
never met the man but seeing his pictures on corporate unications sort
ge. Corporate policy dictated that we wore suits and ties, even on
voice sounding like the cheery, fatherly man I had grown to know and
WCS for years aed directly to Mr. ell. I was in lio bee
By the time I returo my desk there anywide email explaining
Friday's. When it was just ell we had dress down days on Friday's but
o be early as I rode my bike and wore my bike leathers. I had my
car with a white starched shirt with French cuffs and a blue tie
office. When I arrived, he was loading his personal effects into a box. A
rugged looking guy with medium blond hair, ly shaven, with greenish
suit and tie ly packed in a bag and headed to the locker rooms to
The news hit me like a ton of bricks though I tried not to show it on my
His eyes betrayed some remorse and sadness.
face. I had a great w relationship with Old Man ell and this was
that Mr. ell was retiring blah blah blah and that the pany was in
grey eyes. In his pictures he wore a dark suit that ore than my first
of gave me that indication.
Monday m was a new world. I arrived at work at my normal 7:45am. I
From his picture Mr. Charles Withersby was a handsome professional man. A
fatherly pep talk before I left him to finish his pag.
going to hurt. I sat and talked with Mr. ell and he gave me his normal
now that it e dressed. I think part of the reason was that Mr.
VP of IT Services under Mr. ell. Unfortunately, all hell broke loose.
Withersby was a London high born and was used to British class crap. I