“Of course.”I hope you get diarrhea.
* * *
Unfortunately, he’s healthy as a horse the next morning. Runs like a horse, too. Who knew a polo player could run so well? Polo outsources running to the horses!
I follow him, feeling like I’m dying. My body just isn’t designed to run, especially not so early in the morning, and most especially when it only had three hours of sleep in two days.
I’m not late for work, since I shower at the office, but Grant still nitpicks and makes me redo everything over and over. I run into Larry again outside Grant’s office. He gives me a weird smirk, which I don’t appreciate.
But he isn’t the only one. There’s Jesse as well. He graduated from Harvard, too—a fact that’s impossible to forget because he talks about his Harvard years all the time. He sure clings to his stint there, like a security blanket. He should just have “I went to Harvard” tattooed to his forehead instead of constantly talking about it.
If Grant is trying to use overeducated associates to annoy me, he’s failing. But the attempt doesn’t surprise me. I’ve seen how bright-eyed frat boys can unite against a cause, no matter how idiotic, because one of them asked. Although Grant is their boss, I’m sure he’s more like them than me.
Is he going to make them streak across the office, like he did with Heath and Will, to humiliate me in front of everyone at GrantEm? If so, I’m not going to freak out and run like I did back when I didn’t know any better. I’ll record the entire thing and use it to sue his ass. Paying me millions in damages might not make a dent in his fortune, but I’d be able to quit this shitty job and flip him the bird as many times as I wanted.
But that’s just a nice fantasy, because Larry and Jesse don’t streak. And I’m stuck working until midnight, just like the associates and analysts, and getting up at the crack of dawn to run.
On Friday, Jesse comes over to my desk while I’m making yet another small and unreasonable tweak to my memo that Grant demanded.
“So. Like, what are you doing that you can’t leave until midnight?” he asks, an insipid smile on his face.
If he thinks I’m going to be circumspect with him… “Work.” He doesn’t respond, so I add, “I’m sure you’re familiar with the concept.”
He flinches a little, and his cheeks turn bright red. But then he scoffs. “Sure. But I’ve never been dumb enough to redo the same memo until midnight.”
“Did you just call me stupid?”
“Of course not. But if you feel the word applies…”
“For your information, I’m redoing the memo onyourmodel. So ask yourself why Grant feels that he has to assign the task to me, rather than you.”Who’s the stupid one now?
“You—”
“Jesse, did you finish the due diligence I asked for?” Amy calls out from her desk.
He blanches, then hurries back to his seat.
I feel my lips twist with derision. He struts like an adolescent peacock, but he always gets subservient around Grant and Amy. I can understand Grant—Jesse wants to advance, and Grant is somebody who can move him up—but Amy? She’s one of the smartest people I’ve ever met, and she has some seniority, but is that all? Jesse reminds me a lot of Heath, who thought that, because he was rich, I should’ve thanked him for groping me. Although Jesse probably doesn’t have a trust fund like Heath, he’s definitely the type to look down on anybody he thinks is less than him.
Amy tells Larry something, and he nods hard. I could’ve been like her, I think wistfully. If things hadn’t gone so wrong fourteen years ago…
Because finding out about the bet and losing my grandmother wasn’t everything. I would’ve gone back to school in the fall if that had been all. But…
Depression starts to well up, and I shake it off. I can’t do anything about the past. I can only play the cards I’ve been dealt, even if the hand is so awful I’d be better off folding.
At least I can sleep in tomorrow. Saturday… Ah… It’s the sweetest word in English language.
At midnight, I give Grant all the memos and the corrections he asked for. “See you on Monday.”I’m free, free, whee!
“Monday?” he says, looking up from his laptop.
“Yeah. Today is Friday.” Maybe he forgot—
“Just because tomorrow’s Saturday doesn’t mean we skip our team building.”
I blink slowly as I struggle to process what he’s saying. “There’s no way I’m working tomorrow.” I have a shift at the bar, and I’m not telling Jenna I’m not coming in. Ilikeher, and I’m not leaving her short-handed on Saturday night.
He raises an eyebrow. “I have work to do until noon. And I expect you to be here.”
