Yolanda

‘It’s best she doesn’t know anything, for now.’
Beyond the closed door, Yolanda’s stomach lurched. She moved closer.
‘The staff will need to know.’ Peter Rainer’s voice! Her stomach lurched again. ‘How could he?’
‘Discretion is absolutely key. Yolanda will have to be told, of course.’
She moved away quickly when she heard a chair scraping back.
‘Ah! Good morning, Yolanda,’ he said, too cheerfully.
‘Good Morning Stewart.’
The axe fell at the end of the week. She steeled herself and knocked firmly.
‘Surprise!’ The voices yelled as one.
The banner strung over the desk read ‘Manager of the Year.’