I Closed Every Deal,Then They Made Me Report to the Intern

The company was restructuring, and our department had two precious promotion slots.

I was a P4 top performer who'd held the number-one spot on the leaderboard for years. I figured this time, it was finally my turn.

Then the announcement dropped. Narelle Bennett, a P1 newcomer who'd barely cleared her probation period, had been fast-tracked straight to P4 leadership.

And me? Not only did I not get promoted—I got demoted to P3. Apparently, the extra level they'd gifted Narelle had to come out of someone's hide. Mine.

I stared at the deal I'd just closed—the firm's Project of the Year, worth over a billion dollars—and stormed into my director's office demanding an explanation.

"Edwina Henson, you don't understand. This is a strategic decision from the top. The new leader is still green, so dropping you to P3 is actually about positioning you to mentor her."

"Think of it as a tactical retreat! Once Narelle finds her footing, you think she's going to forget who showed her the ropes?"

The sheer absurdity of those words made me submit my resignation on the spot.

They met my letter with mockery.

"Edwina, you're a worn-out battery. Your charge is fading, so what are you getting all high and mighty about? Everyone else can compromise—why can't you?"

I was shaking with rage.

"If I don't even rate a P4, that is the real insult—to every client relationship I've built, every deal worth hundreds of millions that I brought through that door."

...

Max Whitney slammed his pen down on the desk.

"Edwina, you're being extreme."

Flecks of spit nearly hit my face.

"The company is restructuring at this critical juncture to revitalize the entire sales operation. Yes, Narelle is new, but she's Ivy League, sharp, hungry. Putting her in the P4 seat is about injecting a competitive catalyst into the team. Moving you to P3 is about giving you space to go back to basics, shore up your fundamentals. A tactical retreat! You need to see the bigger picture."

"The bigger picture." I let out a cold laugh.

"Five years. I've brought this company three hundred million dollars in cash flow. Last year's Golden Bay deal? I drank myself into a stomach hemorrhage at that dinner table to get the signature. I held the top spot on the company leaderboard for forty-eight consecutive months."

I locked eyes with Max.

"Last week, Narelle tagged along to a client meeting and grabbed the wrong due diligence report. Then she asked—in front of the investors—what an earnout clause was. She nearly torpedoed a twenty-million-dollar deal. And this is your Ivy League hire? Your sharp, hungry go-getter?"

"That was a one-time thing!" Max waved his hand, irritation written all over his face. "Young people make mistakes. The company is willing to absorb that learning curve. But you—riding on a few years of seniority, and now you think you can question the company's strategic decisions? With that kind of attitude, I'm not comfortable handing you a team to lead."

"So not only do I not get promoted to P4, I have to take a demotion to make room for someone who can't even read a financial statement?"

"This is a temporary sacrifice!" Max stood up. "The company is preparing for an IPO. We need a younger image for the management team. Once we ring that bell, there'll be a slice of the option pool with your name on it. You resign now, and five years of blood and sweat go down the drain. You've got to think long-term."

I laughed. A bitter, hollow sound.

Think long-term.

Year three. Right after I'd won my first annual sales title.

I'd been sleeping on the office floor for three months straight to make a proposal deadline. My boyfriend left me, and I didn't even have time to fight for the relationship.

It was winter. The building's heating had been shut off. I sat there in an old army surplus coat, typing away, my fingers swollen and red as carrots.

Max had painted me the same pretty picture back then, too.

He'd said: "Edwina, once this deal closes, I'm putting you up for partner. You'll be a shareholder. We'll be eating steak together."