Outwardly, Lizzie smiled politely. Inwardly? She was laughing maniacally, imagining Carolina’s smug face when she learned that her coveted Reed Medical had cost them $200k.
By Wednesday, Lizzie was surprised not to have heard more. She asked Jim. “I sent it to the Reed team and exec leadership,” he said. “Nothing back.”
Odd. But no precedent for something like this; maybe they were figuring out how to handle it before coming to give her a pat on the back. She kept implementing: e-POs, vendor consolidation, and weekly audits.
At lunch, the team went to the break room. Lizzie stayed, logged in to check emails, while munching on a protein bar. The internal messaging system she’d been added to dinged.
WPemberley:Has the procurement team busted out the dance moves yet?
Lizzie smiled, happy that he gave her a direct line to message him and find out why her hard work had gone unacknowledged.
LBenitez:We save our dance moves for Friday. Unless you count the savings hustle, which they’re executing flawlessly ?? ??
WPemberley: I saw a report. A few hundred dollars so far. No “pallet pivot,” but savings are savings, right?
Lizzie stared. Reread. Still not understanding.
LBenitez:Are you kidding? We found over $200,000 Day 1…
The typing dots blinked. Vanished. Blinked again.
WPemberley:Did this get reported?
LBenitez:I was told they were, but wait one. I’ll confirm.
The team trickled back in. “Hey Jim—forward me that Reed Medical email from Monday.”
Two minutes later, it was in her inbox. The message is clear. Addressed to the CFO, a man named Leo whom she’d never met, and then Charles and Carolina in copy.
LBenitez:Confirmed. Sent Monday.
WPemberley:Send it to me. I’ll address it. Thank you.
LBenitez: ??
She sent the email as requested. Silence followed. He’d said he’d address it, so there was now nothing for her to do but wait.
Over the next few days, Lizzie typed a half dozen messages demanding answers at various levels of impatience, but ultimately she never sent any, feeling that her place was to find the savings; the internal stuff he could deal with, even if his apparent apathy was irritating her more and more with each passing day.
By Friday, procurement was operating under new protocols: same-day POs, locked quotes, and weekly audits. No day matched Monday’s haul, and leadership never acknowledged the $200k Reed overcharge, which continued to annoy Lizzie, especially after she pointed it out to Will directly—but the implementation was a success by every measure. And technically, there was nothing that said she had to be acknowledged or thanked for her savings, so she did her best not to think about it.
Lizzie had eaten lunch at her desk all week to avoid Carolina (or Will). But Friday, she boughtbocaditosfor the team—a capstone to a strong week.
Walking with Jim, they passed a glass-walled boardroom. A woman sat alone at the head of a long table. Her dress was tight and ill-fitting, despite the obvious expensive name brand. She looked determined to wear a size or two smaller than she needed, and her body was bulging in odd places in protest. Makeup heavy. Hair was a shocking red. Nails were impractically long. Jewelry gaudy, loud. She slouched, bored, annoyed to even be there.
“Who is that?” Lizzie asked.
“That’s Alisa Reed,” Jim said with a knowing smile.
Lizzie smiled; the image of Will with this disinterested, annoyed-looking woman gave her a sick pleasure.She looked like she belonged on Jersey Shore, not the boardroom of Pemberley Pharmaceuticals. Lizzie tried to imagine her grumpy cat energy on Will’s serious, cold arm. Just two unpleasant people spending time together. She was exactly what Lizzie thought Will deserved. It made her feel better about not getting any feedback from him. He obviously had his hands full.
Lizzie felt a bit guilty at deriving so much pleasure from these internal musings, and she mentally admonished herself.She probably has a great personality, and he might be really into women with big red hair and electric blue nails,Lizzie thought.But she couldn’t help it. The image of Alisa with Will made Lizzie’s week.
* * *
From the Desk of William Pemberley
HQ Office- 3:59 PM
