"Leave this company, and don't bother applying anywhere else. Your background check report? I write whatever I want on it."
A naked threat.
Open bullying.
A humiliation meant to cut a person down to nothing.
I was shaking all over, biting down hard enough to taste blood without even noticing.
I shot to my feet, ready to fight back, and Jordan Lambert grabbed my arm from behind and held on tight.
I turned. Jordan shook his head at me.
The fury that had climbed into my throat got swallowed back down.
Oliver thought I'd caved. He let out a cold, arrogant little laugh.
"That's more like it. Let Jordan teach you what it means to read the room and play smart."
"You handle tonight's celebration dinner to my satisfaction, and what happened just now never happened. From here on, there's still a place for you in this department."
"Don't be so petty, kid. Every resource you put in now is a stepping stone to your promotion. Relax. With me looking out for you, you won't lose out."
It was his usual trick.
A slap, then a sweet little reward, then a pie in the sky that would never come true, just to keep me playing the fool.
He didn't wait for me to answer. Oliver turned on his heel and strode off, arrogant as ever.
The coworkers shot me looks of disgust and contempt, then happily went off to plan tonight's celebration dinner.
Jordan was the only employee who hadn't reeled off a list of dishes, and the only one who hadn't joined in the sneering.
He pulled me into the stairwell and let out a helpless sigh.
"Cece, Oliver's a lowlife, plain and simple. My wife scrapes by running a little diner, and every time we work late he has me make boxed lunches for everyone, never pays a cent. He gets the credit, I cover the food. The minute I bring up money, he makes my life hell. All these years he's dangled raises and promotions, and I'm still a junior clerk who hasn't seen a dime more."
"I've tried to quit too. Same threats, same speech. You think anybody in sales has expense reports without a single error? At my age, if I leave with a stain on my record, I'll never find another job. I just have to take it."
It surged through me like a tide, and my voice came out wrong.
"Jordan, but my meal isn't some small amount…"
"I know. Go talk to Mr. Whitney, plead poverty, get them to cut down on the expensive dishes. Just bear it. You're still young. The last thing you want is a stain on your résumé."
My nails dug into my palm. My voice came out steady.
"Jordan, I have to quit this job."
Jordan shook his head, resigned, and turned to go.
"Jordan." I called him back.
He turned.
"Don't go to the dinner tonight."
He blinked, then nodded, and pushed the door open and left.
I called my mom.
"Mom, Oliver's planning to book out our restaurant tonight. No matter what he says, don't agree to it."
She paused. "Tonight's already booked by someone else. Didn't you tell him that?"
"I did…"
I told her the whole thing, and by the end her voice was trembling with anger.
"Cecily, you did the right thing. You can't coddle people like that. Don't you worry, even if the good Lord himself walks in today, it won't work."
"And it's my fault too. I figured he was your boss, so let him eat free, treat it like a gift, make things a little easier for you under him. And he just keeps pushing for more."
"Don't be scared, sweetheart. Just quit and come home. If you can't find work, your mom will take care of you. We're not swallowing that kind of humiliation."
A warm rush went through me, and my nose stung.
"Mom, I'm going to quit. He wants to corner me, and I'm not going to let him off easy."
"Mom, check the cameras. Put security cameras everywhere the blind spots can't reach. Hire twenty strong guards from Five Guards Security, and one more thing…"
