I full-on strut down the hallway of the high-rise building, making my way toward the conference room.
I am an accounting badass. I make spreadsheets my bitch. I’m going to kick this promotion’s ass.
The mantra runs on repeat through my mind as I stride through the open conference room door. Most of the team is already here, lounging in high-backed rolly chairs around a long glass-topped table.
I slip into a seat next to my best work friend, Veronica. Other than Veronica and myself, there’s only one other woman in the room, my supervisor and mentor, Margo. She hired me right out of college and has guided me through the ranks of the financial analyst world ever since. I give her a small smile, but she doesn’t meet my eyes. Shit. My stomach goes for a ride on the Tilt-a-Whirl.
Why won’t she look at me? Margo always acknowledges me, even if it’s with a simple head nod. This can’t be good. Holy fuck.
Any confidence built up by my friends slips right out of me.
No. I’m not going to do that. There could be plenty of reasons Margo doesn’t want to look at me. She probably doesn’t want to show favoritism. Or spoil the big reveal. I’ve got this promotion in the bag. I’ve been working my ass off—I’m talking unpaid overtime, weekends, and holidays—for the past six years, and it’s finally about to pay off.
The thought of not living paycheck to paycheck, something I’ll be able to do for the first time in my life with the raise accompanying my new job title, almost brings me to tears. But I sure as fuck am not going to blow this promotion by crying in the middle of the conference room.
So I paste on my easygoing-girl smile and clasp my hands together on the table.
The men in the room, a.k.a. the majority of the room, straighten up in their seats when we see our senior partner walking down the hallway. Bill Stevens reminds me of my grandfather, and I know how luckyI am to work with a manager who actually gives a shit about his employees and hasn’t ever once hit on me. Just the fact that I think of it as workingwithhim and notforhim puts him leagues ahead of every other boss I’ve ever had, and I’ve been working since I was fourteen. Bill is joined by a guy in his midthirties whom I’ve never seen before, dressed in an expensive tailored suit and a Yale School of Management tie. Gag.
Veronica pinches my elbow, but I don’t turn her way, my eyes glued to Bill as he takes his seat at the head of the table, gesturing for the newcomer to fill the seat on his right.
“Thank you all for coming.” Bill takes a minute to look around the room. “I know you’re all anxious for the big announcement, and I promise to not keep you in suspense. But before I make anything official, I want to say a few words about one of our rising stars, Ms. Sadie Green.”
Veronica pinches my elbow again, and out of the corner of my eye, I see Margo’s lips purse tightly together, like she’s trying to contain her glee. Or keep from vomiting. One or the other.
“Sadie has been with the company for more than six years now, and I know I’m not the only one who has noticed how often she goes above and beyond the call of duty.” Bill makes direct eye contact with me, a warm smile on his face. “And while she has succeeded in all of her previous endeavors, it’s now time for her to manage her biggest project yet...”
I take in a long breath and just for a second close my eyes, hearing my new title before it actually comes out of Bill’s mouth.
“...training our brand-new senior financial analyst, Chad Thompson.”
The room goes silent, and my stomach bottoms out like I’m in a free-falling elevator. Which, frankly, would be preferable to sitting in this very room at this very moment. My hands clench the armrests of my chair like I might actually be plummeting.
Nobody speaks for at least a minute. It’s like we’re in an episode ofSaved by the Belland Zack Morris has called for a time-out. My chest aches because I’m pretty sure I’ve stopped breathing altogether.
“Who the fuck is Chad Thompson?” The words come blurting out of my mouth in a rush of air before I have time to fully comprehend what I’m saying. All I know is this has to be some kind of sick joke.
Bill stares at me like he’s never seen me before. “Chad is my future son-in-law. He just graduated from Yale with his MBA, and I think he’s going to be a terrific asset to the company. With your help and guidance, I have no doubt he’ll be a great leader.”
My mouth drops open, my brain struggling to process the words coming out of Bill’s stupid, stupid mouth. “With my help and guidance?” My voice is low and rumbly, one octave above full-blown Exorcist. “You seriously want me to train the man who’s straight-up stealing my job?”
Veronica tugs on my elbow, surreptitiously trying to calm me down, but I am having absolutely none of that.
“Sadie. You’re a very hard worker and a smart girl, but you aren’t ready for senior-level responsibility.” Bill’s voice drips with condescension, and I mentally take back every nice thing I’ve ever said about him.
“But some guy who hasn’t stepped foot in the building until today is? His major qualification being that he fucks your daughter?”
The room inhales a collective gasp. Veronica rolls her chair away from me, as if no longer willing to claim association.
My cheeks burn and oh my god I said that out loud.
“Everyone out,” Bill commands, his quiet pitch more terrifying than if he screamed the words.
I clasp my hands together tightly, focusing on my perfectly manicured fingers, taking slow, deep breaths. I can’t believe I just lost my shit in a room full of my colleagues. In front of my boss. In six years, I’ve never once so much as raised my voice, knowing it only takes one outburst to be labeledemotional. And in five minutes I blew right past emotional and straight into irrational and aggressive.
I remain as still as one of those painted statue guys in Times Square, not moving until the rush of suits brushes past me, the room emptying within seconds. I push back my own chair and start to rise, but Bill stops me.
“Sit down.”
