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“You can go now.” Lisa’s voice reaches a high pitch causing a few other designers to glance in our direction. It probably wasn’t a good idea to mention Branson asked me to call him by his first name. Yesterday he hadn’t mentioned me moving to the 35th floor when he told me he would be overseeing my work.
“But why?” I ask in a whisper as I glance toward my cubicle only to notice it’s been cleared.
“Why?” Lisa cackles like an evil witch right before boiling a child for supper. “Because I refuse to work with you and don’t make the mistake of seeing this as a promotion, Riley. Rather see this for what it is.” Her eyes condemn me as they slowly travel from my eyes to my black pumps and back again. “A juvenile delinquent, working in the principal’s office. So he can expel her at the drop of a hat.”
I’m sure my skin would turn to welts any moment from the acid in her voice. I nod and consider apologizing but I have a feeling anything I say would only cause her to spew more anger in my direction.
Tammy, a girl I befriended in the break room yesterday, looks at me with wide eyes, to which I just shrug. Having nowhere else to go, I step back into the elevator and hit the button for the 35th floor, and my cheeks burn like fire. As soon as I step off the elevator, Branson’s receptionist shows me to my office. Instead of the tiny cubicle, I had on the 30th floor I now have my own office with a view of the Empire State building. If this is what the principal’s office feels like, I’m not complaining.
I’ve barely logged into my computer when the internal messaging system alerts me to a new message from Tammy. I debate what to tell her and finally decide on the truth.
Tammy: What did you do?
* * *
Riley: I designed something she hated, and the clients loved it. She hates me.
* * *
Tammy: Why are you on the 35th floor?
* * *
Riley: She refuses to work with me.
* * *
Tammy: Are you working with Mr. Carter?
* * *
Riley: No. He’s overseeing my projects because she hates me.
* * *
Tammy: Good
luck. Lunch later?
* * *
Riley: Sure. That’d be great.
I work throughout the morning, designing different campaigns then quickly meet Tammy for lunch. I divulge everything that happened since our meeting yesterday then I return to the 35th floor. Tammy gave me great advice about staying out of the line of fire and how to keep myself guarded. Tammy has been working at this company for the last four years, and it seems like a good idea to rely on her experience to push through. Apparently, Lisa is a ruthless bitch, but she is really good at her job. As for Branson, according to Tammy, he’s brutal, merciless, and a bastard, but he’s always fair. If he is going to be overseeing my projects, every project had to be brilliant, or he wouldn’t think twice about firing me on the spot.
I find the brief for the Martinez campaign on my desk, excited about the new challenge, I get to work. I don’t even realize the sun setting behind me or that everyone left. A knock on my door startles me as I scribble another quote onto the notepad beside my computer.
“Aren’t you going home?” Branson’s blue eyes twinkle at me from the doorway. His tall frame and broad shoulders nearly fill the opening.
“No, I thought it’d safer to stay here. I didn’t want to risk bumping into Miss Weston on the elevator.” I cringe at the honesty of my words. I don’t want him to think I’m scared of her Lisa.
Branson laughs as he walks into my office and takes a seat across from me. “Did she give you an earful?”
“She hates me,” I ruefully admit. “Let’s just say she’s made that perfectly clear. Everyone on the 30th floor thinks I did something truly heinous to her which resulted in me being kicked out and forced to your floor. And to top it all off…” I’m shocked when I notice the time on my screen. “Oh shit! Is that the time?” It was close to midnight.
Branson nods and indicates I should look behind me. The entire sky is black with only a few stars glittering in the distance. Behind me, the city had come alive with lights. “I thought I’d check on you before I left. I’m always the last to leave. It’s a refreshing change to have to chase someone home.”
I shake my head, still unable to comprehend how quickly the time had passed. “I’ve been working on the Martinez campaign all day and must’ve lost track of time. I’m sorry. You probably want to lock up. Let me just grab my things.”
