Page 8 of All In


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Standing back, Alice surveyed her. “You’ll do,” she said, tossing the Kleenex into the trash. “Don’t forget to put your shoes on before you go.”

“Right.” Wincing, she wedged her feet back in them. They crimped her toes. Sighing, she shrugged into her black blazer. “How do I look?”

“Like you could take names and kick butt.” Alice raised her hand for a high five.

Nodding, she slapped her palm against her friend’s. “I’m going to see Chris tonight. Want to go with me?”

Alice stilled. “At Clancy’s?”

“I’m coordinating a speed dating event for Sunday and wanted to go over a few details with him beforehand.” Her best friend Chris had inherited his grandfather’s bar two years ago and was struggling to honor the promise to his grandfather and make Clancy’s successful again. Gentrification had displaced a lot of the old businesses in their old neighborhood.

She’d offered to help him, of course. They’d known each other since first grade, when they’d been placed next to each other. He’d told her that he wanted to work in a circus, and she said she wanted to be a teacher, and then at recess they’d shared the best parts of their lunches before playing pirates. Since they were both babysat by their grandparents after school, they walked home together—her to Lottie’s and Chris to Clancy’s. Fast friends, Lottie called them.

The good thing about being low on the totem pole at the agency was that she had barely anything on her plate, so she could devote her time to putting together a marketing plan for Clancy’s. She’d already put a couple things into motion to bring new customers into the old space, including the event on Sunday.

“Chris won’t mind if I’m there?” Alice asked.

“Of course not.” Rachel rolled her eyes. “It’s a bar. He encourages people to come drink there.”

“Okay then.” Her friend nodded. “Come get me when you’re ready to go.”

“Great.” She squeezed Alice’s arm and headed toward her boss’s office. She tried to smile, to push her shoulders back and fake it until she made it, the way her grandmother had taught her, but it was harder by the day. For the first couple months she’d been back at the firm, each time she was called to a meeting like this, she’d wondered if it’d be the day her promotion came through. But now she just wondered what menial task she’d be given to perform.

Focus on the positive.Taking a deep breath, she put some pep in her step. It was just a matter of time. She was good at what she did—they’d realize that sooner as opposed to later and reward her.

She certainly deserved it. She was doing all the work that she used to do, albeit at her lower pay rate and without the accolades. Those went to Hailey, who’d come from the New York office to manage the group Rachel was in.

She heard Grandmother’s voice telling her everyone had a place. Rachel tried to figure out what Hailey’s place was, except to make her life more difficult. She didn’t mind having a boss who was younger, but not if she was going to have to babysit the woman.

Which was exactly what had been going on the past three months. Hailey didn’t know anything about the Midwest market, or how Chicagoans saw the world. Meaning Rachel was doing all the legwork and making sure their clients were happy with what they were receiving.

That didn’t endear her to the younger woman. At all.

She wouldn’t have minded working for someone that she could learn from, but Hailey wasn’t that person. Since Hailey had started, Rachel’s workload had increased, not because she was getting more responsibility but because Hailey wasn’t pulling her weight, and it was left up to Rachel to take up the slack.

Ithadmade one thing clear: she was much more savvy than she’d have given herself credit for, being out of the game for almost three years.

Sighing, she tried to shake it off so she could walk in confident and positive. Putting a slight smile on her face, she strode up to Hailey’s office.

The door was open. Rachel peeked inside and saw Hailey, hunched over her laptop, rapidly typing. Even partially blocked by her desk, Hailey looked like she belonged in fashion rather than at a PR agency. She had blunt hair cut in an avant-garde way that wasn’t common on the Chicago streets and she wore matching black head to toe, a sheer mesh top peeking out from under her jacket.

They may wear lingerie to work in New York, but it wasn’t done in Chicago. It was a good thing they didn’t have any meetings with clients today—their clients would either have a fit or rush off, offended by Hailey’s inappropriate attire.

How management didn’t recognize that was beyond her.

Shaking her head, Rachel knocked on the frame.

“Come in,” Hailey said, not looking up, her tone clipped like usual in her strong accent.

Rachel walked into the large office. It’d been hers before she’d quit. She’d had colorful framed prints on the wall and plants in the corner. She’d had her desk pushed to the side and the chairs and couch situated like a living room, so when her team met it was casual and intimate. She’d thought it made for better collaborations.

Hailey had her desk front and center, like an unbreachable fortress. Two seats faced it, vulnerable, like twin electric chairs. The couch was pushed to one end of the room, and the pictures on the wall were of Manhattan. Rachel wondered if she was the only one who thought that was weird, given they were a Chicago-centric PR firm.

She sat on one of the chairs. It wouldn’t have surprised her if a bright light blinded her and the inquisition started.

There was a bustle at the door, and suddenly Robert, their CEO, strode in. He smiled at her. “Rachel. Hailey.”

“Hello, Robert,” Hailey said before Rachel could open her mouth. She closed her laptop and smiled.

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