Page 100 of Spring Break Fling

But I smiled and nodded like a good little corporate minion.

The real gut punch came at the end.

“The client has requested a representative on location to oversee implementation,” Clarke announced, his tone oozing importance. “Naturally, we’ll need someone capable, adaptable, and ready to represent the firm in New York.”

New York. My dream city. My dream job. My pulse spiked.

This was it. This was my shot. Everything I’d worked for was finally within reach. This was my job. When I first started on this pitch, it was with one end game in mind. I forgot about my sadness. Nikko’s face when he heard about my plan faded for just a moment. My eyes were on the prize. I always told myself that was all I had to do to get ahead. Keep my eyes on the prize and everything else would work out just fine. Ignore distractions and focus.

Finally, all those long nights and missed time with my friends would be rewarded.

Clarke glanced around the room like he was savoring the tension, then smiled. “Congratulations, Steven. You’re going to New York.”

What?

I blinked, sure I’d misheard. Steven? Steven? The guy whose most significant contribution to our firm was the coffee machine repair?

Everyone was clapping and offering their congratulations. My face was burning and there was a loud buzzing in my ears like my head was stuffed into a beehive.

On one hand, I knew I shouldn’t be surprised. Clarke had been pulling shit like this for years. But on the other hand, I had earned this job. I deserved it and I didn’t say that lightly. I never acted entitled. Nor had I ever just assumed I should be given something because I asked for it. I wanted this job more than anyone in this room. I was more skilled and disciplined than the guy Clarke just handed everything to on a silver platter. I felt taken advantage of and small. Clarke let me do all that work knowing he wasn’t going to give me the job. He sent me to Miami to do the leg work. Yes, I fucked up by missing one meeting, but it was my first and only mistake since I was hired.

I deserved a little grace, and yes, deserved was the appropriate word. If I charged him my overtime hours, he would be broke. I gave my time and energy, and a little thanks and reward were well deserved.

I noticed a few people looking at me. They knew. They knew this was an absolute bullshit promotion for a guy that did not deserve it. Steven did the absolute minimum to get by. He was just like Clarke. He had no qualms about borrowing the hard work of others. He was infamous for claiming we should all be team players, but when it came time to stand on the podium, it was him.

Just like what Clarke was doing now.

“What the fuck?” The words slipped out before I could stop them, loud enough to snap every head in the room toward me.

Clarke arched an eyebrow. “I beg your pardon?”

The conference room plunged into awkward silence. My face burned as I realized everyone was staring, including Steven, who looked both smug and startled, like he’d just been handed a winning lottery ticket for no apparent reason. He knew damn well he didn’t earn that job. He didn’t know the client or the work. It was my baby.

“Sorry,” I muttered.

But I wasn’t really sorry. I was pissed. Humiliated. Everyone was looking at me with pity. A few of them were laughing on the inside. Did they all know it was unlikely I would actually get the job? Had all of them watched me bust my ass while they knew?

I looked at the faces of those that had left hours before me every night. The people that took sick days and time off knowing their jobs were safe. I gathered my notebook and bolted from the room before I burst into flames. Or violently started throwing shit.

I made it to the elevator, barely holding it together, when a kind woman from another company handed me a tissue. “Bad day?” she asked sympathetically.

“You have no idea.” I sniffled, dabbing my eyes.

The elevator was taking its sweet time. I just wanted to get out of the building and run. I didn’t know if I quit my job or if I just got fired, but I had to get out of there.

By the time I stumbled into the lobby, I was ready to hurl myself into the nearest cab.

“I hope your day gets better,” the woman said.

“Thanks,” I murmured.

I knew it wasn’t going to get better. It was going to get worse. Much worse. I planned on ending the day with a stomachache brought on by too much ice cream and a headache caused by too much wine. I walked out of the elevator with my mind already focused on my next steps. Did I call Clarke and beg for the position? Did I resign and tell him to fuck off? Or suck it up and pretend I didn’t just get humiliated in front of my colleagues?

I walked toward the door, barely seeing anyone or anything. But something told me to look up. Standing smack in the middle of the lobby, like some tattooed apparition, was the last person I expected to see.

“Nikko?”

His dark eyes locked onto mine, and for a moment, the chaos of the world melted away.