Days With Zion Dawsey

6. Company

"Thank you." Despite thanking his smiling staff members, Zion refrained from killing his assistant Micheal for lying. 

He watched all the smiles on his employees' faces as they finished singing him 'happy birthday'. He wasn't stupid though, of course he saw right through their smiles. Some of them said 'I hate you but I don't want you to fire me', some said 'his scars are so ugly', some said 'get me out of here' and others simply said 'I hope he's not gonna stay any longer'. 

"Thank you for the cake as well, please eat it at your desk when you're working. I don't appreciate excuses for breaks. Anybody that gets cake on their computer or keyboard has to pay for a new set." With that, Zion nodded and walked over to his elevator, waiting for Michael to come in after him. 

"I don't appreciate you lying to me either, Michael." Zion glared at his assistant as soon as the doors closed.
"Yes, sir. My apologies, sir." He answered, avoiding his gaze.

Zion was quiet after that. He specifically told Micheal that he did not like any of the employees to make a big deal out of his birthday. No cake, no singing and no congratulations this year. He hated having his birthday celebrated, especially by people that don't know him or like him. But then again, is there anybody that likes him? Even his mother hasn't called yet. He didn't even know if the traditional dinner today was still on. 

But obviously he wouldn't be mad if it wasn't. Usually, they'd have a little party at Maddox's place. His mother, a few colleagues or childhood friends would be there. Truth be told, it wasn't as horrible as he always says, but it was a waste of time and he'd rather spent that lost time in his office, doing what he does best- working.

"Sir, this just came in the mail." Michael said after Zion let him in. That made the now 34 year old man look up from his work. Michael placed the turquoise envelope on his boss' desk and left as soon as Zion demanded it.

"I thought it was too good to be true." Zion said, shaking his head as he picked up his mother's signature envelope. 

No protest, you're coming to my house at 5 p.m. and don't be late. Bring your empty stomach and that cute little assistant of yours. 
- The woman who pushed you out of her 34 years ago!

Zion was having a hard time fighting his smile. He shook his head again and then put his mother's letter into the last drawer of his desk, where it could join all the others. He would be lying if he said he didn't miss his mother's sarcastic letters. He would be lying if he said he didn't miss her in general.

"Michael!" He bellowed. Like the good assistant that he was, Michael came inside the man's office, trying to cover up his panting and staying by the door, waiting for orders.

"You're accompanying me to my birthday party at five. You can leave now and wear something comfortable, I don't know. Just be here at four thirty."

.

"That's what you consider something comfortable?" Zion lifted a dark eyebrow as he looked at his assistant. The two were in the elevator, going down to the parking lot.
"Is it too punk? Too comfortable? I knew it, my apologies, Sir. I suppose my pyjama would be more formal than this. Please don't fire me, I could still-"

"Fire you? You're my best employee, Michael. Besides, you're wearing a suit, calm down." Zion shook his head and straightened up his own suit. He guessed he also didn't get the idea of a comfortable outfit. But he did feel the most comfortable in suits, so in a way he did get the idea. 

"Whatever, just talk a lot with my mother and if any of my high school teammates try to talk to me, especially Marc, then jump in and distract them. I cannot stand them." Michael nodded as the elevator came to a halt.