“Tell me about it.” Justine’s head throbbed from a growing headache after fixing her boss’s problems all day. “I have my own work to handle plus his, which he never seems able to do correctly.”
“Maybe because he spends all day long up his boss’s ass. Hard to get work done when your sniffing ass crack.”
Two guys in suits stared at Katie as they passed her, having obviously overheard her.
She just waved.
One of them grinned and waved back.
Katie turned to her and linked arms. “You need to speak up, Justine. If you don’t tell him how much you hate working overtime when you have your own life to get back to, nothing will change.”
“I’m not even getting paid the extra hours,” she muttered, annoyed she still hadn’t had her yearly review for a raise. Frank kept putting it off.
“Wait, what?” Katie stopped in her tracks, forcing Justine to stop with her. “Are you telling me you’ve been doing all your own workandhis, staying late, and you’re not getting any OT for it?”
“No. It’s not in the budget.”
“This is bullshit, Justine.” Katie softened her voice. “Look, honey, I know you’re a team player. You work so hard, don’t expect a pat on the back for it either, and are trying your best. But this is not at all a good fit for you.”
Tears came to Justine’s eyes. “You don’t think I know that?”
“You’re miserable. Frank is getting all the credit for your ideas. Plus he’s so busy schmoozing the boss that he looks like he can do no wrong while you’re holding him up and getting no respect for it.”
“I’m trying to make our team look good.”
“You’re just makinghimlook good. Not the team.” Katie paused. “Why isn’t Phil or John or Sarah working overtime for him?”
“They have families.”
“So only single people are expected to work for no pay? No. Try again—especially since Sarah is only engaged, not married, and no kids.”
“I guess... Well, Frank asked them a few times but they demanded to get paid.” At Katie’s knowing look, Justine hastened to add, “But they have a lot more years in the company than I do. I can’t lose this job.”
“Fuck that. You totally can. You’re more talented than all of them—well, except me. But you’re not confident enough in yourself to know you can work for someone else.”
“I’ve looked.”
“Not hard, because you’re afraid word might get back to Frank.”
Justine flushed.
“Besides, we both know what you really want.”
“What’s that?”
“To work for yourself. You’re so smart, but you can’t see it. You’re a lot like your dad, only softer. Intelligent, talented, and driven, though you pretend you’re not. You’re just nice about it while your family are like pit bulls making deals.”
Justine sighed. “Now you’re just insulting. I’m not like my dad.”
“You totally are. He’s not content working for anyone but himself. He has an idea of how he thinks his business should work. So do you. But he works in finance, and you with art. Hey, they can say what they want, but our company is about making pretty art for people to gawk over, so they go and buy from our clients. We appeal to the public in an artistic medium—TV, magazines, billboards. We design it. They buy it. Your dad appeals to people’s wallets directly. Spend money to make money. It’s similar but not.”
Justine tugged her friend to start walking again. “You’ve put way too much thought into this.”
“I have. Because you’re miserable. You’re losing weight.”
The one positive aspect of her misery. “Thanks.”
“You have no social life. And I mean that in a nice, I’m-worried-for-you way.” Katie added, “When’s the last time you saw Xavier?”
