“Hey, Grace.” She’s cheery as always as she steps into the room.
“Hey,” I greet her with a forced smile. I shouldn’t feel bad for my afternoon break, everyone takes them. Still, I feel the need to defend myself. “I’m just on my way back to work.”
“Do you have a minute? Jack and I would like to talk to you in his office.”
I stare at her. Jack Holt is one of the partners at our firm. I’ve literally only talked to him at Christmas, when he’s handing out holiday bonus checks. My heartbeat picks up with anxiety at the thought of having a meeting with him.
I rack my brain to figure out what he could possibly want to talk to me about. A new project? But no, he isn’t usually involved on that level.
This is looking really, really bad. I swallow the lump in my throat, searching Sarah’s face for a clue, but there’s nothing there.
“Uhh… sure.” My forced smile falls but I do my best to keep it in place.
“It’s nothing bad. Stop looking like I’m taking you to see the grim reaper,” Sarah jokes and I laugh in return but only because it’s obligatory. “Come on.”
Does being fired count as bad? I wonder, trying to calm down. The last of my tangerine gets tossed in the trash and I follow Sarah across the main room where everybody works. Unlike me, most of the employees don’t put their heads down while they work, so a few eyes follow me across the room. I glimpse Diane trying to make eye contact with me, but I avoid it. I haven’t talked to her since the wedding… which she didn’t attend.
Sarah leads me to a corner office, where she pauses to knock on the door. I fidget, wiping my hands off on my shirt and trying to stay calm. Sarah wouldn’t lie to me.
“Come in,” Jack calls through the door and we enter, my legs feeling like jello. Sarah shuts the door behind me, increasing my paranoia that I’m about to be fired.
“Grace, hi,” Jack says, standing up from behind his large espresso desk that’s littered with paperwork. He’s in his fifties, well dressed, and tanned as a nut from long days on his yacht. “Please sit,” he gestures to one of two chairs in front of his desk.
I glance at Sarah and pick a chair. Sarah sits in the other one, crossing her legs and smiling. Jack settles himself back behind his desk, looking serious.
My heart thumps wildly. I’ve never been fired before. My hands are clammy and I try to think of something to say, but I don’t trust my voice.
“So Grace, I asked Sarah to recommend someone to run the project desk, keep the designers on task and make sure what they produce is in line with the clients’ branding. She recommended you.”
Blinking several times, all of them a little too fast, I stare at my boss for a second, processing his words, then look at Sarah. “She did?”
“Apparently you… let’s see here,” he says, picking up a piece of paper off his desk. He starts to read. “Quote - She works ten times harder than anyone else. If everyone was as dedicated to customer satisfaction and producing great artwork, we would be far more successful. You seem to have an eye for branding not just design.” The paper falls with a flutter as he adds, “There’s a critical difference and not everyone has it.”
“I… I don’t know what to say,” I manage, my throat feeling dry but in a good way. I manage to answer Jack, although my throat feels tight. “Thank you for noticing.”
“Don’t thank me. Thank Sarah,” Jack says. “Now the promotion comes with a big bump in pay, but ten people working directly below you. You’ll be overseeing campaigns and critiquing. You also get final say and can modify and mold designs how you see fit. Can you handle that?”
“I… yes,” I say, nodding vigorously. “Absolutely I can.” Oh my gosh. I didn’t even consider a promotion. A bonus yes, a raise in pay, heck yes, I’ll take that any day.
“Alright! Well, Sarah will see that the contract is on your desk by Monday to sign. Thank you for your hard work,” Jack says, standing and offering me a handshake.
With the meeting apparently over, I stand and shake his hand, trying not to let him see that I’m trembling. It’s an excited tremble. Sarah smiles at me on the way out. I don’t know how I’m even walking, I’m so stunned. Once the door is closed behind us, I let out a breath.
“I can’t say thank you enough,” I confess to Sarah.
She laughs. “I told you it was nothing bad!”
I reach out and almost grab her hand or hug her, but instead I clasp mine in front of me, feeling so grateful and overwhelmed. Remain professional, I remind myself. “Thanks so much, Sarah. Really.”
“Well, I just wanted you to realize that I see how hard you work. I see all the nights you’re here late, and all the crap you put up with from the clients.”
“You won’t regret this. I promise,” I say. The giddiness takes over as the shock wears off.
“I’m sure I won’t,” she states matter of factly, winking.
We part ways, Sarah back to her office and me back to my cubicle. Still smiling so hard that it hurts, I return to my seat. Immediately, Diane’s head pops up over the cubicle walls. Holy shit. I let out a small laugh, short and full of relief.
“You scared the crap out of me,” I joke.
“What was that all about?” she asks. “It looked serious.”
“I… I actually got a promotion,” I admit to her, my smile never waning. “It’s weird to say it out loud.” Oh my gosh, I got a promotion. It’s my first ever. I’m still in disbelief.
“What?” she asks, standing straighter. “Promotion to what?”
“They need someone to manage the project desk,” I answer her, turning in my chair to face her fully and finally breathing normally.
“No way! I thought Melanie was going to run the art desk.”
She looks and sounds… pissed. It takes a second to realize that. She’s not at all happy for me. The deep crease in the center of her forehead and scowl on her face give that away. She can’t even pretend to be happy for me? I swallow, feeling the high die down and answer her, “Well, apparently not. They just offered it to me.”
“Congrats! Seriously, that’s awesome.” Although her words are kind... and rushed, her expression and tone are still off.
“Thanks.” I smile and try to shrug it off.
“We should go celebrate later! Go out, grab some drinks.” Her fun side comes back, and for a second I think I imagined her original reaction.
I must have. She may be obnoxious at times, but I think about it, then decide what the hell.
“Sure. Maybe we could go to that bar with the awesome Mexican food?” I offer.
“Sarita’s? Yeah, girl. And then we can make our way to Mac’s.”
I go silent, but nod. Charlie said he wants me to come to keep up appearances, but I don’t know if I can bring myself to do it. I don’t want to get hurt. I don’t want to play games anymore.
“What?” Diane asks. “You don’t want to go to Mac’s?”
“I was just thinking somewhere else would be nice to let loose,” I answer her, but even to me it sounds like a lie. My heart hurts just thinking about it.