CHAPTER 1
Anna
Today was Anna’s biggest nightmare. The intermittent buzz of office chatter, humming lights, and clacking keyboards created an unbearable racket, making it impossible for her to complete her work. She winced and scanned the busy room, her hands clutching the side of her head, lost without her headphones. Listening to familiar, repetitive music kept regular office noises from intruding.
Yesterday, her boss had suggested she’d be more accessible without her headphones. Sandra had smiled and moved on, perhaps having no idea what horror she’d unleashed on Anna. How could anyone work with this din? Her brain had always been different, too stimulated by sensory information. That came with being on the spectrum.
Anna examined her organized cubicle, her post-it notes color-coded and her pens upright in a jar. Everything else remained bare, except the postcard she kept of a European village with polished cobblestone streets. This bland workstation wasn’t how she’d pictured her life.
She rubbed her temples, trying to massage away a budding headache. When she was young, she’d dreamed of being a published author. Her thirtieth birthday loomed on the horizon, and instead of being the driver, she’d spent her life as a passenger.
She glanced away from her computer screen toward the far-off window, took a deep breath, and shoved back from her desk to take a moment for herself. Standing relieved the tight feeling in her neck and shoulders from hunching toward her screen. She had to get out of here, if only for a few minutes. She’d get some tea.
Sandra’s slick voice reached her as she neared the conference room. Anna’s steps faltered, and she stopped, open-mouthed, in the doorway.
Her boss’s presentation was, word for word, what Anna had agonized over for weeks and pitched to Sandra just days ago. Those were her slides on the screen. After belittling it, Sandra had stolen her work and was now presenting it as her own to their biggest client. It wasn’t the first time someone Anna trusted had betrayed her. Tears threatened, but a surge of fiery rage kept them at bay.
Sandra noticed Anna at the door and shot her a triumphant look, her jade-green eyes dark and flat like a reptile’s. Mr. Jones leaned back in his chair while Anna stood rooted in the doorway behind him, unable to enter, her throat constricted. His fingers steepled together in front of him as Sandra finished discussingAnna’sproposed marketing campaign.
“It’s brilliant, Sandra. You’ve outdone yourself again. You’re a genius. This is just what my company needs. Based on our previous conversation, it isn’t at all what I thought you were working on. This is better.” He smacked the table for emphasis, and Anna jumped at the unexpected loud noise.
“It just came to me the other day,” Sandra said with a toss of her honey-gold hair. “I redesigned everything and wanted to surprise you. I’m so glad you like it.” She unnecessarily smoothed the front of her crisp navy-blue power suit.
“Mr. Jones,” stammered Anna. The big man half-turned, his thick eyebrows arched. “Actually…” She wanted to tell him itwas her work. Her ideas. But how could she do that? The blood drained from her face as reality set in. She couldn’t change what Sandra had done.
Her boss smiled her snake smile, her flat lips curving away while Mr. Jones had his back to her. Perhaps daring Anna to continue, knowing she wouldn’t. This wasn’t the first time Sandra had taken advantage of Anna, and she was sick of it.
When no words followed, the client’s gaze flicked back to Sandra.
“Anna, can you get us the champagne from the kitchen? And a couple glasses. There’s a dear.” Sandra turned. “Marcus, we need to celebrate.”
This couldn’t be real.
“But…” Tongue-tied, the rest wouldn’t come out. Anna had never imagined this happening. Her stomach ached—she didn’t deal with confrontation well. She’d worked on this strategy for a month. Given up every weekend and countless hours of her own time, often staying at the office until nine or ten o’clock. When Sandra told her she’d wasted her time, to scrap everything, and restart, Anna was devastated.
She’d picked herself up and thrown herself into the next idea, vowing to do better. A red haze settled in front of Anna’s eyes. This time, she wouldn’t just sit back and let it happen.
“This marketing strategy was my idea.” Her voice shook with suppressed fury and traitorous tears fell, but she spoke with a rare confidence. When Mr. Jones turned to face her directly, her face burned with embarrassment. She struggled to look him in the eye—something so difficult for her but expected in the business world. When calm, she could force herself, but upset, it became almost impossible.
She held her ground at first, then darted a glance at her boss, who stood, one hand on her hip, her face a false mask of confusion. Sandra’s unbuttoned top button had become two.
“What are you talking about, Anna?” said Sandra with a derisive laugh. “You influenced my eventual choice of color scheme for the slides, but that’s hardly the campaign. Don’t be so unprofessional. One day, when you’re more experienced and have earned it, I’ll give you more responsibility. For now, you should go back to your spreadsheets.” She motioned with her hands like a mother shooing a pestering child.
When Anna didn’t move, Sandra stared, her face appearing disappointed or maybe annoyed. It was difficult to tell the difference. Reading other people’s emotions wasn’t Anna’s strength.
“This was my idea. How could you? I quit.” Her boss’s betrayal was the last straw at a job she hated. Great gulping sobs burst from Anna’s throat, which threatened to close. Oxygen seemed in short supply. She couldn’t feel anything besides her flaming cheeks and needed to leave before things became worse. Already the embarrassment made her stomach ache. It would be a miracle if she could prevent a conflict-induced meltdown.
“I don’t know what to say,” said Sandra with a shrug. “Good luck.”
Anna stumbled backward. Behind her, Sandra’s voice resumed, overlaid with Mr. Jones’s deeper voice, but Anna couldn’t make out their words as she fled. Spinning, she ran to her cubicle, grabbed her laptop, and scanned her desk for her few personal effects. She snatched the postcard and her jar of pens, stuffing them into her laptop case, and headed for the elevator. Hushed whispers followed, the news outracing her, as gossip always did. The hum of the too-bright lights had never been more incessant.
She needed the solitude of her car and her music. Now. She pushed the call button six times, the tightness in her chest intolerable while the wait for the elevator became interminable. Her shoulder blades twitched while she willed the elevator toclimb faster. She dared not look behind, already feeling the stares burning into her.
She breathed a sigh when the doors opened with a ding and she stepped inside. Traveling downward, she focused on twirling the ring on her right hand, waiting for her stop on the parking level. Her grandmother had given her the ring to help her cope. Sometimes her talisman worked—the magic of a gift from the person who’d tried to teach her self-worth. Each floor Anna passed, she held her breath, hoping the elevator continued without stopping. This early in the afternoon, she made it all the way to the bottom alone.
She couldn’t believe she’d quit. Adam would be so happy. Her brow furrowed. Wouldn’t he? Her boyfriend was always after her to take a different job. This would be the perfect chance. He’d always said she’d never be able to handle a high-pressure competitive marketing job, and she’d just proven him right. It was galling to admit. The first big account she’d worked on, the first time she would have won a major client, and she’d been duped.
Anna could almost hear Adam’s words when she got home. He would say, “You’re not designed for business, Babe. You should take a less challenging position that won’t make you feel inadequate. They don’t appreciate your differences the way I do.” She blinked back tears and pressed the back of her icy hand against her scalding cheeks.
