Lacey gives a small smile, and Shannon shrugs.
Close enough.
The next mediation is just as easy, almost the exact same situation. Two people expecting something out of each other without communicating what it is.
I could do this in my sleep.
I scurry off after finishing the second mediation and slip into the departmental meeting just in time to get an eye roll from Jacquetta.
She is of the belief that if you are not fifteen minutes early, then you’re late.
But she set me up for failure.
I plaster my HR smile on and sit down, waiting for the meeting to actually start.
“Good morning,” Jacquetta greets us, standing up and walking around the conference room like she’s a teacher in a classroom full of students. “We have quarterly reviews coming up, and there are quite a few of you who are up for promotion.”
She directs her gaze at me.
If only she knew I don’t want to move up in this company at all.
“I’m going to be extra critical and paying closer attention to the cases that you cover and your success rate in mediation. I want zero escalations. I don’t want to see anybody in my office because you couldn’t handle it. And the person who does that the best is going to be the person who gets the promotion. It’s as simple as that, people.”
My work BFF, Edie, makes eye contact with me, and I hold my breath.
Oh, she is not about to make me crack in this meeting. I’m not doing it. She is very good at making me crack, but this is a promotion meeting. This is very important. This is serious.
Edie is not going to read my mind, reply, and make me laugh with her silent look today.
I follow Jacquetta around the room with my eyes, but I can feel Edie burning a hole into me.
I make the mistake of looking at her briefly.
And that millisecond of eye contact makes me snicker.
Of course, Jacquetta turns around and glares at me.
Because humor cannot be allowed in the workplace. Humor is offensive. This is HR. We are serious all the time.
I close my eyes, take a deep breath, and listen to her as she continues on about straightening our department out, wanting the best of the best, and trying to make our jobs easier by reducing conflicts through workshops and team building.
After the meeting, Edie comes up to me and bumps me with her hip at the water fountain as I fill up my water bottle.
“Why do you always do that to me?” I ask her.
“Do what?” she shrugs.
“Make me laugh in those meetings.”
“You are just a child,” she says. “I just looked at you and you started laughing. I don’t know what’s funny about my face, but that seems to be a you problem, not a me problem. I don’t laugh when I look in the mirror.”
I roll my eyes and put the lid back on my water bottle.
“Leave me alone, girl. You saw how she looked at me when she talked about promotions, and you saw how she looked at me when I laughed. I think she love-hates me.”
Edie nods and puts a braid behind her ear. “Oh, she definitely love-hates you. She might love, love, hate you. And want more out of you than you can give her.”
“Hard no. She’s not my type. If women were my type... When is she going to change that wig, by the way?”
