Page 75 of Flirting with 40

Every part of me roils at her comment and public reprimand, but I bite my tongue and just smile as if I know something she doesn’t.

I think it hits its mark. Her jaw clenches. Her hands fist, and I know the moment she realizes it because she shoves them behind her back. And that lone eyebrow of hers shoots to her hairline as she contemplates what exactly the ghost of a smile on my lips says.

“We’re wasting time here.” She turns her attention to the rest of the group. “Now on to today’s topic . . .”

And so she goes in to a long diatribe about the purpose of diverse thoughts while single-handedly shutting down every person’s opinion in true Heather fashion.

The entire time we’re having our discussion, I’m preparing myself for what I’m going to say after. Line by line. The tone I’ll use. The way I’ll move my hands so she doesn’t read the nerves running rampant underneath. Everything.

When the time finally comes for everyone to leave, I stay in my seat until she notices me still there.

“Is there something you needed, Blakely?” she asks with that sharp snap to my name.

“I’m just trying to figure something out.”

Her hands stop stacking papers, and she very deliberately lifts her head so her eyes meet mine. “And what exactly is that?”

My heart is racing, my pulse pounding in my ear.

“Why it is you constantly feel the need to cut me down and criticize me in front of my coworkers? If you’re that unhappy with my work, why haven’t you just fired me?”

Her body jolts in surprise before she recovers, but she’s blinking too rapidly to pull off appearing unfazed. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.”

“I did, I’m just surprised you have enough of a backbone to ask.” She leans her hips on the table behind her and crosses her arms over her chest.

“I have plenty of backbone, Heather. I’ve been in this game long enough to know it’s best to choose when to use it.”

“And you choose now?”

“It doesn’t seem that you discriminate when it comes to me, so why should you be offended that I chose right now, when we’re alone, to ask you?” I flash a catty smile. “I mean, unless you’d rather I confront you in front of the team. I think that my doing it this way is the proper way to be a leader. Don’t you?”

“You’ve always thought you were better than me.”

You’re correct on that one.

“You’re the only one who has ever thought that, so that’s on you,” I say and rub my palms on the thighs of my jeans. “So?”

She licks her lips, and her expression turns calculating. “Just because you’ve been here a long time—you know what? Never mind.”

“No.” I stand, hearing words that affirm everything I’ve thought about how she looks at me. “Just because I’ve been here a long time, what?”

Heather pushes off the table and shifts on her feet. “You seem to be the board’s darling. That’s the only justification I can find as to why you’ve lasted this long when no one else has.”

“Like I’ve said before, I’d think you’d look at that as a positive. I know what the board wants out of our department. I know how to approach them to get approval on out-of-the-box ideas. And my experience and tenure at Glam allows me to see how a different age group might look at a campaign geared for a younger subset.”

“And your tenure just might be the only reason you still have a job,” she grits out.

“Excuse me?” Finally. Something solid as to what her problem with me is.

“I can’t fire you because the board would not take too kindly to it.”

“So, what? You’re just going to make my life miserable until I quit?”

Why did I not think to record this conversation on my phone?

Her grin widens, and she winks. “That’s the plan.”