<\/p>\n\n\n\n
My phone buzzed. I glanced at the screen and swiped to dismiss the notification. Time for my meeting with Mr. Grant. I rode the elevator up to the executive top floor, and the pretty secretary ushered me into the inner office. \u201cMr. Byron Johnston\u201d she announced.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mr. Halsey Grant, the founder and CEO of New Wayz Associates, sat behind an imposing cherry wood desk wearing a smartly tailored blue power suit and red tie. Without looking up from his laptop, he gestured to the large brown leather chair facing the desk. \u201cHave a seat, Mr. Johnston.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
My stomach lurched, and the greasy reflux of the pizza I ate for lunch burned my throat. I\u2019m always nervous whenever I meet with upper management, but more so today, with the big boss himself. I sat down and took a couple of deep breaths to calm my nerves. I wondered why he summoned me to a meeting today. I have a niggling suspicion, but hope I\u2019m wrong. It can\u2019t be that.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
After a few moments clacking away on the keyboard, Mr. Grant rose and extended his hand. \u201cByron,\u201d he said, his voice warm and resonant, exuding authority. \u201cThanks for coming in today on such short notice. I know you have been very busy lately.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Did he just emphasize the word \u201cbusy?\u201d I probably imagined it. \u201cYes, very busy,” I agreed, my voice raspy from the lingering acid burn. I cleared my throat. \u201cSorry, I\u2019m a little nervous. It\u2019s not often I meet with the CEO.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cNo need to be nervous,\u201d he chuckled. \u201cI\u2019m human, just like you. Not much different from you except I have a lot more years on this chassis, and\u201d \u2014 he ran his hand through his thinning gray hair \u2014 \u201ca lot less hair.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
And a lot bigger paycheck, I snickered inwardly.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He walked to the water dispenser by the wall, filled a paper cup and handed it to me. Just what I needed. He is a perceptive man. “Thanks,” I said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cAnd how was your weekend?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cOh, good, real good,\u201d I answered. \u201cWe had a great time camping at the lake. Did some skiing, then I caught a seven-pound largemouth. Man, that critter really put up a fight.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cSounds fun,\u201d said Mr. Grant. \u201cI don\u2019t get a chance to do that much these days. But I\u2019m glad when our hardworking employees can let work go for a weekend and have a good time.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
There it is again, the way he emphasized \u201chardworking.\u201d I feel uneasy. Is it my nerves? My imagination? Something else?<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cAnd how is Mrs. Johnston doing? I hear you have a little one on the way?\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYes, we\u2019re due in about three months, I said. \u201cShe\u2026we\u2026are so excited about starting a family. She is literally glowing these days.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mr. Grant sat down in his oversized office chair. \u201cCongratulations, I\u2019m so happy for you guys. Children are such a blessing\u201d He clicked the mouse and looked at the screen for a moment, then back at me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYou may be wondering why you\u2019re here today.\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI do, sir.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWell, there\u2019s a particular file I\u2019d like to discuss.\u201d Mr. Grant swivelled the laptop my way and, pointing at the screen. \u201cIt\u2019s the project you\u2019ve been working on called Quantum Consumer Behavior. This is your project, right?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He turned his head to me, and our eyes locked. \u201cWhat can you tell me about it?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
My heart beats my ribs like a sledgehammer, and my head goes for a swim. Uh oh\u2026he knows.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The top secret file with proprietary code worth a fortune. The purloined file that no one could ever know I took. The file I planned to sell to our competitor, and finally be able to leave this miserable company a rich man.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
How did he know? Did someone on my team blow the whistle? Was it that conniving little snitch, Pete? Always throwing me under the bus and reporting me for everything that goes wrong. Or that backstabbing little witch, Lisa? Dismissing everything I do, and taking credit for everything she doesn\u2019t do.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
It was for noble reasons. There\u2019s a baby on the way after all, and my salary would not be nearly enough. The risks were great, and the rewards greater, but I knew that if anyone ever found out \u2014 and how could they? \u2014 that there would be hell to pay. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cTake your time,\u201d said Mr. Grant. \u201cI want to hear all about what you did on this project. I want to hear it from you firsthand.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He expects a confession. I can\u2019t do it. I can\u2019t tell him the truth. It will be the end of my job here, the end of my career, the end of me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I spilled the beans. \u201cI\u2026 I\u2026took it.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He looked puzzled. “You took it? Tell me about it.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Oh crap, crap, crap! I didn\u2019t mean to say that. I\u2019m toast.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mr. Grant leaned forward in his chair, his eyes laser-focused, boring a hole into my head, turning my brain to jello. \u201cGo on,\u201d he urged.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI took the file home on a flash drive one day to work on it, but I never had time. I never opened it. It was always safe with me, and I brought it back the next day.\u201d God, I\u2019m such a liar.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cHmm\u2026I see\u2026well thanks for telling me Byron. I\u2019m surprised; this is not what I expected to hear.\u201d He drummed his fingers on the desk, scrolled the screen as though looking for something, then turned his gaze back at me. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI had no suspicion of any illicit activity from you, nor did your teammates. Your work ethic, attention to detail, and adherence to the highest security protocols impressed your team so much that they brought it to my attention.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“My team?”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“Yes, Pete specifically. He raved about you, said you were the smartest, hardest working team leader he has ever worked with.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cThat\u2018s why I called you in today, to discuss this project and your future with the firm.\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Oh no, I really blew it. Mr. Grant knew nothing after all. Me and my guilty conscience and big flapping mouth. I could taste the panic rising, and it didn\u2019t taste like pizza this time.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYou didn\u2019t call me in to fire me?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mr. Grant shook his head. \u201cNo, of course not. Why would I? I was going to offer you a promotion to Chief Cybersecurity Officer. A position with the highest level of security and a fat salary. You\u2019ve done exemplary work for the firm, and I thought you were ready for the next step.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He said \u201cwas\u201d and “were,\u201d not very good words in this context. I need to say something fast if I don\u2019t want to lose my job. Fall on my sword. Be contrite. Be honest. Or lie like the devil. Whatever it takes.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cHonestly, Mr. Grant, I only took the file home to work on it in my spare time. I\u2019ve been a loyal, hardworking employee for ten years, and I want this project to succeed. Our company succeed. That\u2019s why I was working so hard on it.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYour confession is commendable,\u201d said Mr. Grant, \u201cbut your honesty is tainted. Whatever your intentions, you know that removing intellectual property offsite violates company policy and is never completely secure. We have zero tolerance for that.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI had high hopes for you, son, but I doubt the veracity of anything you say now. You\u2019ve broken trust and breached security protocol. I have no choice but to terminate your employment immediately.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He pressed the intercom button. \u201cSecurity please.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I hate groveling, but I will do it. I have a baby on the way, and I can\u2019t lose this job. \u201cWait, I\u2019m fired? Really? I was honest with you. Please give me a second chance,\u201d I pleaded. \u201cPut me on probation, or unpaid leave, or demote me, but please don\u2019t fire me.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cThere are no second chances with such an egregious act. You compromised the security of the project, and now we will have to modify the code to safeguard it from any competitors you may try to sell it to. I\u2019m sure you still have the file, even though you may deny it. The temptation is too great.\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI deleted the file from my flash drive, sir. I would have never considered selling it.\u201d Even as the words \u2014 the lie \u2014 left my lips, the frown on his face said it all. He didn\u2019t believe me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cThe company\u2019s rules are clear, Mr. Johnston, and I can\u2019t make exceptions even if I wanted to. There is no future for you here. Your time with New Wayz Associates is done. Security will escort you out of the building. “<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cBut\u2026but\u2026\u201d I sputtered as two uniformed security guards entered the office. They placed their hands on my shoulders and guided me out of the office, down the elevator to a back door, and out of the building. The door clanged shut behind me with a final, job-ending thud.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
My phone buzzed. I glanced at the screen and swiped to dismiss the notification. Time for my meeting with Mr. Grant. I rode the elevator up to the executive top floor, and the pretty secretary ushered me into the inner office. \u201cMr. Byron Johnston\u201d she announced. Mr. Halsey Grant, the founder and CEO of New […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":2256,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_feature_clip_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false},"categories":[22,25],"tags":[16],"class_list":["post-2255","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-mystery-suspense","category-psychological","tag-flash-fiction"],"blocksy_meta":{"styles_descriptor":{"styles":{"desktop":"","tablet":"","mobile":""},"google_fonts":[],"version":7}},"jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_featured_media_url":"https:\/\/twistytales.com\/staging\/wp-content\/uploads\/2025\/06\/A-Double-Edged-Sword.jpeg","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/twistytales.com\/staging\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2255","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/twistytales.com\/staging\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/twistytales.com\/staging\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/twistytales.com\/staging\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/twistytales.com\/staging\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=2255"}],"version-history":[{"count":3,"href":"https:\/\/twistytales.com\/staging\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2255\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":4161,"href":"https:\/\/twistytales.com\/staging\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2255\/revisions\/4161"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/twistytales.com\/staging\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/2256"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/twistytales.com\/staging\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=2255"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/twistytales.com\/staging\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=2255"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/twistytales.com\/staging\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=2255"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}