Matt Moreau wrote a Loving Wives story some time ago about a husband and wife that work for the same company. The wife is the CEO, the husband a regular employee, and the wife fires the husband. The wife, of course, is having an affair.
The idea of a CEO wife firing her husband, as a business decision without the infidelity factor, and how that might affect things intrigued me.
I prefer to write in the first person but sometimes part of the story takes place when the protagonist isn't there, so there will be some switches to the third person. I apologize if that bothers anyone.
*Note: The Powers That Be at Literotica asked that I obtain permission from Matt for the use of his plot device, and he has generously granted it. Thank you, Matt.
<><><><><>
YOU'RE FIRED!
I'll see you at home.
<><><><><>
"I'm sorry, Henry, but your results for the past 4 quarters haven't been up to the standards we need. We're letting you go."
My mouth was agape and I was stunned. I couldn't form a coherent thought. Sure, I had been fired before, though it had been years. But I must admit that this caught me completely by surprise. That it was my very own wife lowering the boom was probably the reason for that. I finally got the brain signals going to my mouth.
"You're firing me? You can't be serious."
"I'm completely serious. Your numbers have dropped off considerably from last year and we simply can't afford to keep you in the position any longer."
"And just why the hell are YOU doing this? You're not my direct supervisor. Is that candy-ass Adams too much of a wuss to do it himself?"
"I chose to handle this personally to prevent any misunderstanding. I signed off on the decision and didn't want there to be any sort of showdown, with you threatening to go to me when he told you the news. I thought it best to handle this myself."
"Well that's just fucking great!"
"I'll need you to get your personal effects from your desk. Just so you're not surprised, per protocol there will be a security guard there. I don't want you to think the company, or me, believes you'd take anything that didn't belong to you. It's just policy."
It felt like an iron ball was forming in my stomach. How in the hell do you fire your husband? I mean, seriously?
"Sure. Anything else?"
"Henry, this wasn't an easy thing to do. I hope you understand that."
"Whatever."
I got up and left her office. Perhaps introductions are in order. My name is Henry Weston and I'm...or rather, I was...a sales account manager for ABG Products (the name doesn't officially stand for anything, but was inspired by the first three letters of the Greek alphabet: Alpha Beta Gamma). I'm about 6 feet tall and in decent shape, though a spare tire had started to form recently that I wasn't too happy about. I'm reasonably intelligent but just didn't have an interest in being the boss. I did, however, have the ability to sell and had made a good living out of it, until recently apparently.
My wife, Angela, was the CEO of ABG. That's right: The Head Honcho. The Big Cheese. You get the picture. She was always ambitious and intelligent so it came as no surprise when she got the position. She's 5'6" with straight brown hair that she usually has up in a bun when she's at work. She's probably about 30 pounds overweight but it doesn't bother either of us. She attractive but not remarkably so, and we have (had?) a good marriage.
We've been married for 15 years and are both in our early forties. We didn't have any kids but we did have an active social life when our schedules allowed, though I spent some time on the road servicing my accounts and she put in a lot of extra hours, as necessitated by her position. She uses her maiden name, Jarrett, at work. Our marriage isn't a secret from the staff, or even from the local competition, but she felt that it would be better to keep our business and personal lives as separate as possible. I was fine with that.
We had met on the job when I was hired in the sales department 20 years ago. She was already part of the junior executive class and was highly regarded. I won't bore you with the courtship since it was unremarkable. We met, we dated, we fell in love, and we married. She rose in the executive ranks and I rose in the sales department, frequently earning the high sales for the quarter, though I must admit it's been a while.
Anyway, I could feel the eyes on me as I left my wife's office, which surprised me because we hadn't been loud so I didn't think anyone overheard the goings on. I supposed word may have gotten around; it wouldn't surprise me if Adams, who couldn't Vice President of Sales his was out of a paper bag (I know, a crappy metaphor), had purposely let it slip. But as I turned the corner to my office I saw the security guard waiting for me and realized that probably gave it away.
"I'm really sorry about this Mr. Weston. I know you wouldn't take anything that don't belong to you but..."
I held up my hand.
"It's okay, Vic. It's the way things are done and you're just doing your job. Think nothing of it."
I actually kept very little in my office since I spent almost no time there. It all fit easily into the small box the company had provided for my convenience. I took a quick glance around and, satisfied that I had everything I wanted, walked out of the office and left the building for the last time.
"Mr. Weston, you forgot this picture of your wife," Vic called to my back as I walked toward the door.
"No, I didn't," I responded without a look back.
The room, which held upwards of 15 people as I walked away, was deathly silent as I made the walk. It crossed my mind that these people now knew that no one's job was safe. And then I thought that maybe that was the point, or at least part of it.
I tossed the box into the front seat of my car and drove back home. Justified or not, I felt completely betrayed by Angela. I was aware that my numbers were down but I had every reason to expect them to rebound in the next couple of quarters. I had promises from several of my accounts that orders would be going up, and I supposed the new rep would probably get credit for turning things around. Too bad I wasn't given the chance to see it through.
I spent my afternoon doing some things around the house. I imagine Angela wouldn't be too happy but I really didn't care at the moment. I was curious how she was going to be when she got home. We had always tried to separate work from home, leaving company business at the office, but this was obviously different, at least to me.
I was on the couch watching a baseball game when she came in the door at about 7:00pm. I never bothered to even look up at her, keeping my eyes riveted to the TV. We had never failed to greet each other when we got home so my silence was probably speaking volumes.
"Honey, I'm home..."
"I heard you come in."
"Is there a dinner plan?"