2: 2
2.
Back at my desk, I opened the laptop. The wallpaper was still a photo of me and Nathan.
I selected it, right-clicked, and replaced it.
Then I wiped everything else.
That night, just out of the shower, Evelyn's post came up in my feed.
The picture was a shot of the mail shelf, the caption dripping with self-pity: "Some people can't find their own contract and have to blame the front desk. Chased me eight times in a week. Do I owe you something?"
Nathan had liked it.
I took a screenshot.
Something heavy dropped in my chest.
Before I could even think of how to hit back, the next morning, before I'd even reached my desk, I heard Evelyn's voice carrying across the floor, thick with triumph.
"My uncle says the front desk reports straight to me now. Anything you people need, come to me first."
She twirled a pen between her fingers. "Some people, always going on about their contracts. Like they actually close deals worth millions."
"What have they sold all year?"
The whole office laughed right on cue.
I didn't slow down. I turned straight into the IT department.
Dirk Lawrence, an employee I'd helped out before, looked up. "Ms. Cobb, what's up?"
"The front desk keeps missing client calls. Enable call recording for me, would you? Makes it easier to catch what got dropped, and easier to trace complaints."
"Sure, no problem."
A few clicks in the back-end system and he was done. "There. Calls record automatically now, and you can pull anything from the last month."
"Thanks. Don't mention it to anyone."
Dirk blinked. "Got it. I don't know a thing."
Back at my desk, I opened my inbox. An unread email popped up.
It was the client I'd been working for three months. Eight hundred thousand. Not a huge sum, but I'd driven out to their office four times and reworked the quote three times.
The body of the email went through me cold.
"Ms. Cobb, we never received the signed original of the contract. Another firm offered better terms, so we signed with them. Thank you for these months of follow-up. We'll work together again if the chance comes."
I checked the tracking.
Three days ago it read "received by front desk."
Evelyn again.
I marched up to the front desk.
She was bent over painting her nails, peach pink, doing it carefully. When I slapped the printed email down on the desk, she didn't so much as flinch.
"Evelyn, this client's signed original came in three days ago. Where did you put it?"
She blew on her nails and drew out her words. "Oh. That."
"I don't have any contract here. I cleared out everything that was supposed to be cleared."
Then she leaned over and glanced at the company name on the email and smiled. "Oh, this one! I might've tossed it as scrap paper. The cleaning lady probably took it. Or you could go check the dumpster."
My nails dug into my palm as I fought the urge to strangle her.
"Evelyn, you've got nerve."
That afternoon the boss called me into his office and tore into me.
"Three months on this client and now you're telling me it's gone? Where's the contract? Last step of the whole thing and you drop it?"
"And you want to run that forty-million account? I'm telling you, Cheryl, one more slip on that one and you can go wherever you want, because you won't be working here."
I stood in front of his desk and didn't say a word in my defense.
By the time I got back to my desk it was nearly quitting time, and Evelyn showed up carrying a little cake.
"Oh, so sorry, Director Cobb, I didn't realize you were still here, didn't get one for you! After the reaming you got this afternoon, I figured you'd been let go."
Alex at the next desk laughed first. "Evie, you're so sweet, thinking of us."
"Of course. Paid out of my own pocket, too. Not like some people, who lose a contract and still have the face to come back and sit at their desk. Me, I'd have packed up and left already. Think how much trouble it causes the company."
Someone chimed in. "Maybe when you get older your skin gets thicker. Chewed out by the boss and doesn't even change expression. Me, I'd have found a crack to crawl into."
Evelyn went on. "Anyway, some people won't be around much longer. One more problem with that forty-million deal and whoever's responsible walks. The air in here will get a lot fresher after that."
I finished the last of my slides and shut down the laptop.
When I picked up my bag and stood, Evelyn hurried after me. "Take care, Director Cobb. Don't be late tomorrow!"
Stepping into the elevator, my heart went quiet all at once.
Those words used to sting. Now I'd heard them and found they couldn't stir a ripple.
A real winner has no appetite for scoring cheap points.
I got home at eight. Nathan was already waiting in the living room.
He saw me come in, stood, took a couple of steps toward me, and reached out to pull me in. I turned aside on instinct and went to the kitchen to pour a glass of water.
He followed and leaned against the kitchen doorframe.
"You're not seriously mad at me over a package, are you? That eight-hundred-thousand contract, you never reminded me. It's not like I refused to help you chase it."
I finished the water and set the glass on the counter, but brought up something else.
"Nathan, that post of Evelyn's. You liked it."
"So what?"
He gave a short laugh, like I was being ridiculous. "She's just a kid. She posts something, I can't exactly ignore it. What does one like prove?"
"You can't see she was taking a dig at me? Why won't you take my side?"
Nathan spread his hands. "How old are you two, exactly?"
"Who goes around with their ears pricked, listening in on people? Besides, let her talk. Just ignore her and that's the end of it. She's a receptionist. Why get into it with her?"
I looked at him. "Right, I don't want to get into it either. But what about her? Because she threw a little tantrum, that contract died today. I worked it for a full three months."
He frowned. "So it fell through, so what? You've still got that forty-million one, don't you? Can't you focus on the big and let the small go?"
"It's a measly eight hundred thousand!"
