There's a strange look on his face when I hand him the one-inch binder I prepared for him, full of all the accolades and accomplishments I've collected in my two years here.
"What's this?" he asks.
"Oh, I figured we could begin at page one, and I'd show clips of the corresponding trailer—"
"You made a presentation?"
The confusion on his face is making my heart race for different reasons.
"Isn't this my annual review? You set up this meeting last week, and I assumed…"
"Oh, Amelia..." He drags out my name like he's in agony.
Oh my God, am I getting written up?
I do a quick mental check of my performance and if there might have been any complaints against me.
No, I've been an exemplary employee. I'm always on time, I'm finally taking my mandatory lunch breaks, and I turn in my assignments before or at deadlines.
I've turned some terrible movies into Oscar-worthy gold. It was almost unfair how amazing the trailers looked, given the films were actual garbage. Most didn't even make a profit. But damn, for those two minutes, evenIwanted to pay money to see it.
Mr. Robinson is looking at me like I'm withholding the punch line to this obvious joke.
"I thought this was my chance to show you—"
"Amelia, the company is going under."
Oh no.
"By next week there won't even be a team for you to manage."
"What? No team at all?"
"We're not even the fifth choice when it comes to top trailer companies. Thesecondchoice is barely getting A-level films."
A pit the size of the Grand Canyon forms in my stomach.
"You, along with most of your team, will be laid off."
He shuffles papers together and places one in front of me.
"This is an NDA. We need you to sign it. You cannot let anyone else on the team know. The layoffs are happening gradually. If you don't sign it, you forfeit your PTO, of which you have quite a bit. You never took a vacation in the two years you worked here?"
"No, I wanted to prove my loyalty," I say with a sigh, still mortified that I brought this man a PowerPoint presentation.
I'm not sure if what he's offering is even legal. I never read our employee handbook. I sign anyway, realizing I'm going to need that money as a safety net.
"I can't believe this." I also can't believe the tears forming in my eyes. I never cry in front of others, let alone my superior.
"I'm sorry; I know how much you wanted to manage your own team. Lucille sang your praises for the last few weeks."
And then it dawns on me.
"Is that why Lucille isn't here? Did you fire her, too?" I question.
"As you just signed the NDA, I can confirm yes, she was let go last night. She signed one as well."
I'm relieved to know she's not at the bottom of a staircase with a broken spine. I told you I went for the most upsetting thought imaginable.
