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Four years. Four freaking years. I shake my head in wonderment at my own persistence as well as my unwavering patience. I’ve been drooling over the pay bump for every one of the four years I’ve worked here. I’ve managed to climb in tiny increments, but chipping away at success is taking forever. Why not achieve it in one fell swoop? I pulled off a grand opening, complete with celebrity guests and lines around the block. That has to count for something.
Ed’s been flapping his gums about a management shakeup, and a few people on my team have commented they think I’m a shoo-in for design manager. I mean, I did manage to have five celebrities at our grand opening and a slew of paparazzi outside the doors last night. With Archer’s guidance, but still.
“Did anyone see this morning’s paper?” Ed asks now, holding today’s Miami Herald high. The applause and whistles start up again. The “Out and About” section features a photo of Amanda Mitts, a gorgeous Grammy-award-winning twentysomething actress and one of the celebs who attended our event last night. “The grand opening of our latest Lotus Leaf spa was a smashing success, thanks to the entire team working diligently on every aspect of this project.”
I grunt under my breath. While I won’t begrudge my coworkers credit where credit is due, both Ed and I know the grand opening was its own behemoth, and one our team tackled personally.
“Whether your contribution was big or small,” he continues, “you should feel very proud of your hard work. Extra kudos go to our design and aesthetics department.”
Well, I’ll be damned.I shrug my mouth at Archer, who brings his hands together to applaud my team’s efforts.
“We wouldn’t be standing here if it wasn’t for our dynamic duo, Brandon Lambert and Talia Richards!” Ed adds, prompting my frown. Brandon twists his neck and gives me a tight nod. We applaud each other half-heartedly.
Prisha, my head designer, elbows me, her hands carrying a tray of cups filled with green juice. “Take one, boss. We’re going to toast,” she whispers. I do as I’m told. Archer follows suit, palming a cup in one large hand. Nice hands. Really nice hands. I spare him a nervous smile before turning back to Ed.
“On to the announcements you’ve all been waiting for! Let’s start with naming the new woman in charge of our financial department. Please give a round of applause to our own Krista Moody, your new Vice President of Financial Services.”
The crowd does its best to cheer on Krista while juggling paper cups filled with green juice.
“This last choice was a tough one. Who is capable of carrying the weight of the design and marketing departments, selecting their own management team, and continuing to plan grand openings even more spectacular than the one yesterday?”
Archer’s palm warms my back as my heart leaps into my throat—only half caused by him touching me. The years I’ve worked at Lotus Leaf have been packed with overtime, successes, and no small amount of kudos from Ed himself. Where he’s stingy with raises, he excels in compliments. I’m so obviously the best choice for the managerial position, I almost feel bad for Brandon.
Almost.
Ed winks at me and then his mouth opens to say words that don’t match the ones in my head. “Congratulations to Brandon Edward Lambert, my namesake and nephew, who will usher in a new decade of Lotus Leaf!”
Murmuring around me infiltrates my buzzing brain. Ed invites Brandon to take the floor and Brandon begins his speech, one that sounds suspiciously prepared. He mentions my name and how he “couldn’t have done it without Talia.”
No shit.
While Brandon gives his speech, Ed makes his way to the food table and picks up a muffin. I ungraciously hope he chokes on a walnut. I don’t want him to die, but, well, is wishing for a close call bad for my karma? He points at Archer with the muffin. “I look forward to working together in the future, Mr. Owen. Your connections have proven lucrative.”
“You gave my raise to Brandon,” I state without preamble, my blood pressure on the rise. “I always knew you were a misogynist. I had no idea you were into nepotism, as well.”
Ed’s smile disappears. “It was never your raise, Ms. Richards. Most of the people in this room weren’t awarded a new title. I don’t hear them complaining.”
“Most of the people in this room don’t have the experience I have. Most of the people in this room couldn’t have secured the talent needed to land Lotus Leaf on the eleven o’clock news, or in the Herald. You’ve been overlooking me for years.”
“I see you just fine, Talia.” He rakes a gaze over me like he’s examining day-old fish at the dock. “You do what you have to do to get ahead, and that’s your choice. But your behavior won’t win you favor in my eyes.”
“Sorry?” I breathe, surely misunderstanding the barely veiled accusation.
“Brandon.” He points at his nephew, who is still blathering into the microphone, and then to the man beside me. “Archer. Who’s next?” He makes a show of looking around the office for contestants. “I imagine you’d approach me if I was willing to sleep with you as well, but I’m a married man. I’d never indulge in such a pathetic cry for attention.”
My face goes cold with shock. The entire time I’ve worked here, I’ve wondered what Ed and his ilk truly thought of me. I have put on a pained smile whenever he announced me as his “pretty” designer. I’ve bitten my tongue when he failed to introduce me while lavishing praise upon Brandon during important meetings with colleagues.
I’m officially done playing nice.
My arm lifts of its own accord, delivering a cup of green juice to the top of Ed’s balding, gray head. Then I swipe Archer’s juice and dump it onto Ed’s head as well. My boss, mouth ajar, blinks green foam from his eyes as more juice streaks his cheeks in thick trails.
By the time I look around, I notice my coworkers have turned their attention to the action unfolding behind them. Some are watching with stunned expressions, others with amused smiles that say he deserved that. Brandon’s speech trails to a halt. Ed continues blinking, looking for all the world like the Swamp Thing with lake algae dripping off his jowls.
Turning on one heel, I wade into the sea of desks, aiming for mine in the back corner. Balloons are tied to my chair, a copy of the Herald on my desk with gold-star stickers decorating the photo of Amanda posing in front of Lotus Leaf’s sign. Congratulatory greeting cards stand open on my desk.
I yank out an oversized backpack from the bottom drawer and snatch up the cards, a framed photo of my sister, Papa, and me at her culinary school graduation, and my planner. I grab the laptop too, deciding to wipe it and return it if and when I feel like it.
I nearly crash into Archer, who followed me. Funny, in that brief trip to the back of the office, I forgot all about him. How, I don’t know. Now faced with him, his bold and beautiful scowl has my full attention.
