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I hadn’t yet told her I was leaving for New York.
No timelike the present.
“Then consider this my two weeks’ notice.”
Stina’s nostrils flared. “Oh? Just like that?”
“Actually, I’ve been planning it for some time,” I said, heart pounding, threatening to explode in my chest.
This was it. This was glorious. Even if it meant losing the stipend, I couldn’t back down now. Besides, she was contractually obligated to grant the money to me because it was part of her business policy.
“I haven’t known how to tell you,” I said.
“And what are you going to do instead? Do you have other work lined up? It’s not a good idea to quit without having a backup plan.”
The last thing I wanted from this woman was a lecture or advice. I was too seething mad and trying hard to keep myself under control to attempt a reply.
I also didn’t want her to know anything about my plans. I wanted to disappear, to leave her behind in every way I could.
“Two weeks’ notice or not, you’re still on the schedule,” she went on, not waiting for me to answer.
“I told them you can start at midnight. That should give you time to enjoy a little of the ball before dashing off. Then you can work and be back for opening presents with…whoever you celebrate Christmas with.”
No sympathy or remorse came at being the cause of exclusion from my family’s Christmas. She waved this last part out as though it was nothing more than an afterthought and began sorting through papers on her desk.
“No,” I said.
Her eyes flashed. Her tone shifted from honey to vinegar in an instant. She rose from her chair and jabbed a finger in my direction.
“You can’t tell me no.” A little vein appeared in her forehead.
“I just did.”
Her upper lip curled over her teeth. “You’d better not miss this. You’re my reliable one; I need you there on that job.”
“Was that a compliment veiled within that threat?” I asked.
I met her glower without backing down. I’d dreamed of this moment for so long.
It hadn’t come when I’d planned. I’d planned to walk off the job and leave her high and dry, but somehow, this felt better.
I’d never had anything to hold over Stina, not like she’d done to me for years. Truth be told, I’d never been the vindictive type.
But I was tired of having her treat me like something she’d stepped in.
Her chest heaved. “You skip out on this, and you’ll regret you ever said no to me,” she promised.
“Stina,” I began. My voice sounded almost sympathetic. “What else can you possibly take from me?”
I wasn’t going to mention Dad. She was a smart woman. She knew exactly what she’d done.
I saw as much in the cruelty in her eyes. Theygleamed with hatred.
The expression jarred me and left a solid lump in my stomach.
How could she hate me this much? What had I ever done to her?
She straightened her posture and glanced away, as if the thought of looking at me was repulsive.
