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He was firing her?
“You are actually firing me? Phoebe Keller? But I’m…” She gestured around the office as if to indicate that she was a fixture here. “I’m a good employee.”
“Again, you signed a noncompete clause.”
She’d never even considered that the marketing content she posted online could be a problem. “That’s just social media! I didn’t think—”
“You’ve made money from content that’s directly related to what we do here.” Brandon’s face was resigned. “Not to mention, over the years you’ve been, at times, argumentative, some might say negative—”
“Only when I disagree with something!” Again, Phoebe struggled to keep up with Brandon’s accusations. Negative? She’d been taught to be outspoken, to lean in—how many times had her professors and mentors advised her to speak up, not to sit shyly in a corner while the men in the room fearlessly spouted their ideas?
“—and inappropriately familiar with clients—”
“The clients love me!”
“Didn’t you call Ed Walters, the senior vendor manager for one of our biggest clients, a—quote—‘hunka hunka burnin’ love’?”
“That was when he grew out his sideburns.” Phoebe’s voice trailed off to a whisper. “He looked like Elvis.”
“Lastly,” Brandon heaved a deep sigh and continued, “some might say you are scattered to the point of being disorganized and leaving tasks unfinished.”
“But I’m—” Phoebe felt her mouth tremble before she could make her excuses: I’m an overachiever. Ambitious. A lifelong learner. A gifted student!
Suddenly, all of the adjectives she’d heard about herself from others all her life seemed, possibly, untrue. Because overachievers didn’t get fired, did they? But being an overachiever was one of her most defining traits. Without that, Phoebe wouldn’t even know who she was.
Brandon straightened a stack of papers on his desk.
“Am I actually fired, or is there some type of HR training I can do to fix this?” Phoebe asked once she was certain her voice wouldn’t wobble.
In lieu of an answer, Brandon scrawled his signature at the bottom of one of the papers, then handed Phoebe the pen. “Sign here. Then clear out your desk. I’m sorry, Phoebe.”
After signing, her hand trembling across the page, Phoebe said sadly, “Merry Christmas, Brandon.”
Ten minutes later, Phoebe was out on the sidewalk, ears ringing with her coworkers’ shock and dismay, clutching a cardboard box containing a few notepads, some loose pens, a space heater, and her desk snacks.
She spun around to gaze at her office building one last time. It was small by downtown Seattle standards but sweet, with a modest Christmas tree twinkling in the lobby.
Three years gone, just like that. Phoebe had actually liked this job. How could she have been so thoughtless? Well, she hadn’t expected anyone at work to care about her social media accounts. As if her little vlog posts were an actual threat to a respected marketing firm. She’d felt smug about it, like she was doubling down on the hustle. She’d had a full-time job and a lucrative hobby. Did she regret it? Would she take it back if she could? She wasn’t sure. She had always needed to work hard in order to keep her mind occupied. Without her side projects, her off-work hours could start to feel endless.
But actually getting fired? She hadn’t had that one on her bingo card for this year. Or ever.
She was mulling this over as she and her cardboard box found a seat on the bus, feeling the slow burn of mortification spread through her, when her phone buzzed. It was her family group chat.
Kayla: SURPRISE!!!
Phoebe saw the attached picture and choked on her own saliva, which resulted in a prolonged coughing fit. The person sitting next to her got up and moved to the back of the bus.
When she could breathe again, she looked back at the photo of Kayla and her boyfriend, Ryan, and zoomed in on the diamond on Kayla’s left hand.
What?
Kayla and Ryan were only twenty-four years old! Phoebe liked her little sister’s boyfriend just fine, but she had never entertained the idea of them getting married this soon. Probably because, as the second eldest, Phoebe had assumed she would be the one to get married next. Not that she had any takers at the moment, but…
Her other three siblings flooded the group chat with reactions and congratulations.
Her mom sent a long message about how she’d been the first to know, since Kayla had FaceTimed her immediately, and that they would have a celebratory toast with Ryan and his parents at the upcoming Hanukkah party.
Her dad simply replied, Nice!
