The comments were a wall of "small-minded," "short-sighted," "won't get far."
The move was set for Friday night. I had Ramona arrange the vehicles ahead of time.
The whole company was told to head straight to the buses after work, with the moving company handling the company's assets all at once.
At eleven Thursday night, I drove past that office building for the last time.
Five years ago, when we moved in, the building was new. The group photo of our first employees on the wall had long since yellowed.
The shops downstairs were all still lit, looking the same as always.
At six Friday evening, the staff carried their packed boxes down one after another.
I stood at the lobby doors, watching the buses lined up at the curb.
At some point Dirk had turned up, cigarette hanging from his lips, arms folded across his chest, looking at me the way you'd look at a spoiled child throwing a tantrum.
He wasn't quiet about it. "Moving out to the south side? Your Ms. Rowe sure knows how to pick a spot. You'll all come crawling back to me before long."
A couple of employees carrying boxes glanced at him. Nobody said anything.
Max passed me on his way out and murmured, "Ms. Rowe, don't mind him."
Dirk stood off to the side, watching the building empty out, and something uneasy flickered through him.
But then he remembered the message from last night, the one that guaranteed things, and the smug smile settled back onto his face.
By the time everything was loaded, the sky had gone dark. The last bus started its engine.
I stood downstairs and took one last look at the building, five stories of old office space, nearly every window black now.
Dirk was still standing there, contempt and disdain all over his face.
I turned and got on the bus.
The drive was quick.
When the doors opened, I heard someone in the front row let out a "Whoa."
Then more voices, one after another.
Ramona stood beside me, snapped a photo on her phone, and sent it to the company group chat.
Then she looked up at me, eyes shining. "Ms. Rowe... this is so much better than the old place."
I didn't say anything. I stood in front of the building for a moment.
Behind me the employees filed off the buses, and some already had their phones out, taking pictures of everything.
Someone posted a photo in the merchants' group chat.
Three seconds later, the chat blew up.
At six the next morning, Dirk got the first call.
"I'm not renewing."
Then they came one after another.
"Mr. Dickerson, a few of us talked it over. When our leases are up, we're all pulling out. There won't be anyone left in that district of yours."
Dirk tapped his phone awake. On the screen was a photo someone had sent him of the new building.
The phone slid out of his hand and cracked against the floor tile.
His face went white, his eyes full of disbelief.
He slumped to the floor, muttering, "Impossible... impossible..."
