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I want so badly to push him away, to ask him to give me some space, to scream ‘fuck off’… to tell him he should see a dentist for that halitosis. But my voice catches in my throat. What would be the point? It would only make things worse.
It’s ironic that at twenty-five, I still cower beneath the pressure of those above me, afraid of speaking out for myself. Demanding to be heard. To be seen. He may be my superior, but don’t I matter?Shouldn’tI matter? Why is it I’m always the one at the bottom? The invisible one. The one who’s worth nothing. All I’ve ever wanted was to be like everyone else. To matter. To be more than just a body to be used—a toy, a joke, a nobody. Why don’t they seeme?
He licks his chapped lips, and I swallow back a surge of bile.
“I’ll wait here.”
“You can,” he nods. “But let’s be honest, Lara… we all have needs. You need this job. And I need a distraction. So, why don’t you help me help you, huh?”
It’s not my first time going through this, and it won’t be the last. But it doesn’t make it any easier to deal with. How do you say no to someone who is more important than you? How do you speak up when your voice doesn’t count? And even though he’s right and I need this job, why does he automatically assume that means I would just spread my legs for him, literally, when I already have to do it metaphorically every single day?
My eyes stay focused on the glass door and our hazy reflections, his burly body towering over me. “And if I say no?”
He scoffs at the question. “Well,then corporate will learn that you miscalculated our sales income last month.”
I snap my head sideways at the false accusation. I’m good with numbers. Better than good, in fact. “I have never made a mistake, Mr. Rowles.”
“You haven’t made a mistake… yet.”
An amused sneer spreads across his face, and it’s clear to me that the ‘mistake’ he’s referring to has nothing to do with reconciling the books.
An entire conversation plays out in my mind. Angry curses, demanding him to give me my paycheck, quitting right here and now. Maybe calling him a perv.
Instead, my vocal cords freeze, and I slide past him, trying not to touch him.
“Where are you going?”
My response comes in my swift footsteps. The glass doors swing open and I’m outside in the bright afternoon sun of the Houston heat, my breath escaping me in a giant exhale. I reach into my purse for my sunglasses and my hand comes out empty. Shit. I left them inside.
I may not be able to speak for myself, or to stand up to those who take advantage of me, but as long as I have the choice to walk away, I will use it every time. I couldn’t once, and that was enough of a lesson for a lifetime.
But I refuse to dwell on that now. Shaking my head to myself, I already know I won’t go back for my paycheck. I won’t report him. I won’t return on Monday. Because he is my boss…wasmy boss… and his voice is the one they will listen to. Not mine. Never mine.
Gripping my steering wheel, the scream that erupts from my lungs vibrates my whole body. I let it out with all of my frustration because there is nothing else I can do, and being powerless is the most frustrating, angering, and debilitating feeling in the world.
I follow the scream with a melancholy sigh when the buzzing from my purse snaps me back to reality. It’s just my phone. Reaching inside to see who it is, all I can think of is a burning desire to set my boss on fire, or to just disappear from the face of the Earth. I take a deep breath as I look at the screen.
(Gary)Bitchhhh! You out yet? It’s Fridayyyy. Let’s drink!
Any other day and maybe this would be just the pick me up I needed. But today, I just want to crawl into a deep hole, curl up, and forget the world exists.
(Me)I’m out for good?
(Gary)You got fired AGAIN?!?! Oh God, please tell me he didn’t actually try it.
A mix of a sob and a laugh escapes me.
(Me)He tried it. And I walked out.
(Gary)Yass, Queen. Funk that prick.
(Me)I know, but I thought this was it. Like an actual career for once.
Gary’s response is so right that it hurts.
(Gary)You realize I love you, but you always think it will turn into a real career. You’re picking the wrong places, hun.
A notification pops up on my phone, interrupting our chat.
