Julian spoke casually, not even looking up, "Evelyn, you're really just going to walk out? Ten years at Grant, and we've always treated you well. Swallow your pride now, and I'll have Vicky bump you up to $4,500."
I stopped and turned back. "Mr. Grant, $4,500 doesn't buy what I bring to the table."
Julian's face darkened.
"Don't mistake our mercy for weakness." Victoria rolled her eyes.
She then turned to Julian and said, "Let her go. It's not like the company would collapse without her. Tomorrow, I'll hire three secretaries from a staffing agency—cost less than $5,000 total, and they'll be just as good!"
Victoria laughed mockingly from behind me.
I pushed through the glass doors and stepped into the elevator.
For the first time in ten years, I was leaving work right at 5 p.m. No files to pull all-nighters organizing. No cross-time-zone international calls.
I made myself a bowl of spaghetti and curled up on the couch watching a variety show.
My phone kept buzzing—message after message in the company group chat. Victoria was holding court, issuing orders left and right.
Victoria: Now everyone must be effective immediately.
Victoria: All company workflows moved to online collaborative spreadsheets. We're building a visual closed-loop management system!
Staring at the screen full of buzzwords, I muted the chat.
After dinner, I took a shower and got into bed.
As I closed my eyes, my mind drifted back ten years.
While my father was in the ER, Robert pressed a bank card into my hand. "Take this, Evelyn. Pay for his treatment. And if you make something of yourself… help me watch over Grant for ten years."
Tomorrow would be the last day of that ten-year promise.
I rolled over and fell into a deep sleep.
*****
At seven the next morning, I was seated at the front desk right on schedule. The cheap secretary Victoria had hired was scrambling to hand out documents.
Julian stepped out of the elevator with heavy dark circles under his eyes. He looked completely drained, his tie crooked and askew.
"Vicky," he said, rubbing his temples.
"Julian, how was the international negotiation last night? Did the AI device crush it?" Victoria's whole demeanor shifted as she rushed over.
Julian looked like he'd swallowed something foul. "That stupid headset translated their exclusivity clause as 'restricting personal freedom'. Mr. Jackson went stone-faced and dropped out of the video call right there."
Victoria's smile froze. "How is that possible? I paid top dollar for the latest model. It must be their accents. They are not standard, so it threw off the AI."
Julian waved her off irritably. "Whatever. The amount of loss for the project was just $40 million, it won't sink Grant."
Just then, Julian's mother, Monica Grant, stepped out of the private elevator with bedhead hair. Her eyes were sunken, shot through with red veins.
Without me there to contain the story, news of her charity foundation's implosion had spread all over the internet overnight.
"Evelyn, bring me my crisis PR plan," she said, barking orders at me out of habit.
I picked up a cloth and kept wiping the front desk. "Mrs. Grant, that's the PR director's job. I'm at the front desk now. Not my department."
Monica's temper flared instantly. "Well, aren't we getting above ourselves? The company pays you, and you talk back to me?"
Victoria quickly stepped in and pulled her back. "Mrs. Grant, don't waste your breath on her. All her old media contacts are ancient history. I've connected you with top-tier KOLs. Way more effective than her old ways."
Monica gave her a skeptical look. "Will that really work? It's almost blowing up on the trending list."
"Relax. I've got the narrative totally under control." Victoria waved her phone confidently, looking absolutely sure of herself.
Aksara