Chapter 18: The New Studio

Jessamine walked down the middle of the atrium with her phone held out in front of her.

Nobody stopped her, because nobody was sure what she'd do.

"Jessamine," I said.

"Not you, Rox. I'm talking to the room."

She turned to face two hundred people.

"You've all been clapping for the Axe," she said. "I wanted to clear something up."

"Jessamine," Gus said, in a warning voice.

"He's been hiding something from you for eleven months. He's been paying this company out of his own account."

Nobody moved.

"Every Friday," said Jessamine. "He's the lender. He's not saving your jobs. He's been buying them."

She held up the phone.

"He lied to the board, he lied to his wife, and he lied to you."

"What do you think of your boss now?"

It was very quiet.

A woman near the front put up her hand.

"Sorry," she said. "Which Fridays?"

"What?"

"Which Fridays did he pay?"

"All of them."

"Including the Friday of the holiday party?"

"Including that one."

"Then he bought the ice swan," said the woman.

"He did," said Gus, from the control desk. "It was supposed to be a dragon. The shop only had swans."

"I stole its head," said the woman. "I took it home in my purse."

A man in the second row stood up.

"Did he buy the espresso machine?"

"Yes."

"I wrote an anonymous post calling that machine corporate propaganda," said the man. "I'd like to take it back."

"Did he," said the night-shift tester, very slowly, "pay for the chairs?"

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