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I glanced around the meeting room. “We need incentives. Right, everyone?” I looked over at my work besties, Patrick and Heidi, who both stared back at me in horror. “Right? He just said none of us has a future here. You know, except for Taggert.”
He gave me a thumbs-up.
“Thank you, miss,” Grass said in a way that sucked the warmth out of the room—except for the corner where Taggart sat. He was a bright ball of sunshine. “I appreciate your comments, but the rest of the team understands the power of personal growth in a way you obviously do not. Employees do best when they accept ambiguity in their careers and paychecks.”
“‘Ambiguity’ in our paychecks?” I yelped. “I don’t think a financial advisor would agree.” I wasn’t sure what a financial advisor did—I’d never met one and couldn’t imagine ever having enough money to need one—but there was nothing ambiguous about my rent. His eyes hardened again, and part of me wished I could pull the words back out of the air. The rest of me was just over it. Still, I tried to salvage what I could. “I just mean that ambiguity with income usually isn’t great.” I grunted. “Sir.”
“If no one else has anything to add, you can get back to your desks. Everyone except you.” He pointed directly at me.
The room emptied in seconds. “Your name?” he asked.
I swallowed hard. “Indiana Aaron,” I replied. It felt like I had a ton of lead in my stomach. The same feeling I always had in elementary school. The principal had hated me. I’d always been sure to give him my opinion, too.
Grass wrote it down, nodded, and waved me off.
I took a quick restroom break to dry heave a little as I leaned my back against the cool tiles of the wall. I needed this job. I also needed that promotion. And, okay, maybe I needed a little tact. But I’d always sucked at the dance where coworkers sat around and spoke in euphemisms with deference to their superiors and never said what they actually meant. When you’re all adults, does there really need to be a hierarchy where one person can say something but the others have to nod and agree like you’re not actually equals (except that some get paid a lot more than others)? That had been what I was most looking forward to about being an adult. Dropping all thepretenseand finally being respected. I thought back to myself as a kid. That little girl had no idea what was waiting for her.
When my stomach settled a little, I went to the break room and grabbed a cup of coffee. Once I got back to my desk, there was an emailfrom some guy named Shane Dalton in the accounting department. My heart stopped, and not just because of his tiny avatar picture, which looked like the thumbnail of a nerdy romance novel hero. I took a breath and opened it, expecting it to say,you’re firedin all caps. I had to read it twice before the words sank in.
The funds have been reallocated, and your transfer request to the remote-based New York team has been approved.
My skin felt prickly. I hadn’t made any request.
I was so deep in my feels that I didn’t even notice when my boss leaned against my cubicle. “Sorry, Ana,” he said. “There wasn’t anything I could do. I hate to lose you on the team, but you’re never going to be able to get a leadership role, especially after that. You just can’t keep your mouth shut.”
As if. He’d given away my promotion before I’d even opened my mouth.
“This award goes to the employee most likely to say what everyone is thinking,” Heidi said brightly as she handed me a little plastic trophy. I twirled it on the bar and shot her a dirty look.
She leaned down close to whisper in my ear. Happy hour at Cisco’s was noisy. It was the best hole-in-the-wall bar Denver had to offer. “At least you didn’t get fired.”
This was my going-away party, courtesy of my big mouth.
“Where are my besties?” our coworker Patrick called from across the bar.
“Over here!” Heidi yelled, waving her arms. “Ana and I haven’t ordered yet.”
He took the stool next to mine and gave me a quick hug. “Heidi and I thought you needed an award after that performance.”
“I think this may be the only award I’ve ever gotten at work,” I said, thinking back. “Should I, like, give a speech or something?”
“I think you’ve already done that,” Patrick said, gesturing for the bartender. “Can we get a pitcher of margs, please?”
“I still think I should be able to give a speech,” I muttered.
“That’s because you always have so much to say.” Patrick grinned.
“I hate that because it’s true,” I groaned. “But seriously, I just said what everyone else wanted to say. I hate how that job always falls to me.” I started to slip the little trophy in my bag when something caught my eye. The homemade label around the base was peeling a little. I tugged on the edge until I could see what was written underneath. “I can count to a hundred!” I read aloud and jerked around to look at Heidi.
“Sorry,” she said defensively. “Those were the only trophies they had at the drugstore.”
“I appreciate the thought. Sort of,” I said. “You know, if I were a guy, I wouldn’t be bossy. I’d be assertive.” I pushed off my barstool and stood up straight. I was still practically eye level with the bar. “But since I’m not, I’m never going to get promoted. And now, lucky you, thanks to Taggart, no one else will either.” I slumped back down and felt my eyes fill up. Damn it. The indignity sucked. It would have been one thing to lose out on the position to someone who was qualified, but to lose it to some kid who probably played golf with the managing director’s son was something else entirely.
“Who am I kidding?” I asked. “Who was Ieverkidding? I can’t believe I thought I had a shot at being taken seriously as a coder. They practically demoted me. Nobody wants to work on the New York team.” No one had volunteered when we’d been asked, and a lot of it had to do with the guy they’d put in charge of it, Melvin Hammer. The last project he’d worked on failed, but just like so many other higher-ups, they kept giving him chances. “But I don’t want to be where I am now either, so…”
“No, don’t talk that way,” Heidi said forcefully. “I’m not on the tech side of the business since I’m the office manager, but even I know you’re the most talented coder at Apollo. So does Patrick. Fuck that dude, seriously.”
“You can do anything on a computer; I’m totally in awe of both your skills and your lack of filter,” Patrick said. He looked down at his drink. Patrick had been the one to suggest I apply at Apollo IT when I’d hit a brick wall at my last job. We’d gone to college together, and I’d helped him struggle through our statistics class, while he dragged me to all the fun parties and pulled me into his close circle of friends.
