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