They were my people. They'd followed me, learned from me, pulled countless late nights without a single complaint.
And I couldn't even get them the bonus they'd earned.
My eyes stung.
"Come with me."
Executive VP Sawyer stepped into my path.
Ronnie Sawyer had joined the company the same time I did—one of the original crew. He ran HR, and most days he came across as reasonable enough.
He shut the door behind us and sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.
"Was that really necessary?"
My head snapped up. I stared at him in disbelief.
"Necessary? Mr. Sawyer, my team is counting on that money to get through the holidays!"
"Milton's mother is eighty years old! She's always wanted to see the Capital, and he promised her—promised her—he'd take her once the bonus came through."
"Cordelia's mom needs surgery, and that money was supposed to cover it. And Caspar—"
"But the company isn't a charity. We follow the rules here. We can't just hand out extra bonuses because employees are having a hard time."
He brushed it off like it was nothing.
"Fine. Then let's not talk about hardship."
I pulled out a chair and sat down, my expression dead serious.
"Let's talk about contributions."