“Health and safety. Do you need any adjustments to your workspace? Ergonomic chair, ergonomic mouse, etcetera.” His hand does a lazy dance in the air. “Look, just read through the list yourself, will you?”
“We’ve got some new desk models with built-in footrests,” Helen chimes in. “Take your pick.”
“Umm, Andy,” I say slowly. “Can you just go back to what you were saying before all the ergonomic stuff?”
Grunting, he flips back a page. “Time management—”
“No, not that,” I cut in, leaning forward with my hands on the table, maybe to strangle him. “About my design output. What about the promotion?”
“What promotion?”
My eyes bug out. “Mypromotion?”
The one you’ve been dangling over my head for six months to get me to pick up yet more responsibility around here without extra pay, you jerk?
“Oh, right. No promotion this round.” He gives a casual shrug, shoveling his paperwork toward poor Helen as if she’s some sort of human filing cabinet. “We’ll revisit next year, yeah?”
No, no, a thousand times NO.
This cannot be happening. There’s absolutely no way I’ll be able to walk out of this office and face Matty, Taylor, and the rest of the design team without that promotion.
Keep it together. Don’t turn on the waterworks. I swear, if a single tear trickles down my face, I’m throwing myself out the window.
“Andy,” I say, attempting to keep my voice steady. “I’ve worked my butt off this year. You even said my designs were excellent.”
“Yeah, it doesn’t matter how excellent your designs are.”
I blink at him, flabbergasted. “It doesn’t?”
“You’re AWOL at networking events, you make rare guest appearances at company parties, and you couldn’t pick our senior executives out of a police lineup,” he rattles off, shaking his head. “Come promotion time, you’re practically a ghost.”
“I network!”
He arches a skeptical brow. “Name one time.”
“Fine.”
Think fast.
“The design convention four months ago!” I let out a whoosh of air in relief. That counts, right?
He sighs. “You spent the night hoarding chicken wings in the corner while the rest of the team was bent over backward to schmooze the Quinns and Wolfe.”
My mouth gapes. What a complete and utter… I knew Andy wasn’t exactly a hearts and flowers sort of boss, but I genuinely thought he appreciated a good work ethic.
“I hadn’t eaten lunch that day,” I mutter, sinking lower into my chair. “I was finishing up a project for you.”
I’m awarded a dismissive grunt in response.
I glance over at Helen, who’s nodding at me like one of those dashboard bobblehead dolls in a power suit.
I take a breath, summoning what’s left of my dignity. “Listen. I get that networking matters. But I work hard, and I think my designs speak for themselves.”
I’m no good at small talk, handshakes, and sucking up to the elite of our corporate world. I’m a designer, not a friggin’ politician.
“That’s why you’re a great Senior Graphic Designer.”
I slump, deflated. “But I thought I was Wonder Woman.”
