The raise and the promotion they'd been dangling since last year had stayed exactly that far out of reach, forever just around the corner.
Even back when the boss and my coworkers turned my stomach now and then, quitting had never once crossed my mind.
But today, for the first time, I was seriously weighing it. Whether to walk out for good.
I hadn't even pulled myself back together before something even more sickening came my way.
I was still sitting at my desk trying to steady myself when lunchtime rolled around. I forced a smile and asked the woman next to me, Patsy Chavez.
"Come on, want to grab lunch together?"
She acted like she hadn't heard a word. She just twisted around and called out warmly to Max, "Supervisor Finch, let's go get lunch."
Max laughed it off. "What supervisor? Nothing's official yet."
Patsy covered her mouth and tittered. "We've all heard. Your paperwork's just waiting on a signature."
They didn't lower their voices at all. Every word came through clear, landing on me one after another like thrown stones.
It left me sitting there stunned, frozen in place.
"That's right, Max is the one who actually does the work around here. Not like some people, coasting all day and clocking overtime at night just to pad their paycheck."
Patsy picked up the thread. "Exactly. Gold doesn't fear the fire. The boss sees who's really putting in the work."
I clenched my fists hard, and when the tears started rising past my control, I ducked my head fast and let my hair hide my face.
Back when word first slipped out that I was in line for supervisor of the marketing department, my coworkers had treated me exactly the way they were treating Max now.
They'd fussed over me, asked how I was doing. I'd chalked it up to all the help I'd given them over the years. Sincerity for sincerity.
While they crowded around Max, I slipped away quietly to the restroom, splashed water on my face, and went to the cafeteria to get my food.
I'd just sat down and taken a couple of bites when the marketing crowd swept in around Max.
After they got their trays at the counter, they scanned the room, and the whole group came straight to my table.
"Ramona, this is a perfect six-seater. Do us a favor and move, would you?"
I pointed to a table not far off. "There's an open one right there."
Patsy was the first to grumble. "How could we sit there? It's right by the door next to the slop bin, it reeks."
I fixed her with a cold look. "And I can't smell it?"
Max tapped the table, signaling everyone to quiet down.
He cleared his throat, playing the supervisor to the hilt. "Ramona, the office isn't the place to throw a fit. You need to learn teamwork and putting others first."
"Everything runs on first come, first served."
I didn't argue. I let one line drop and went back to eating what was in my bowl.
Patsy sniffed. "Then how did the one who came later end up as supervisor? If you couldn't hold on to what was yours, who's there to blame?"
I lifted my head and met her eyes. "On May 20th, you said you wanted to spend the holiday with your boyfriend. I worked till midnight wrapping up your work for you."
Then I looked at Vincent Lambert. "Every time your kid had something at daycare, I was the one who took over your workload."
I looked at the six of them in front of me and pointed them out one by one.
Even Max, who'd been here the shortest time, had leaned on me plenty.
After the news of my promotion got around half a year ago, I'd only worked harder.
I'd carried the mindset that any blame was mine to take, and any gains were everyone's to share.
All because I'd suffered under a bad boss myself, and all I wanted was to be a good one with a clear conscience.
But right now, I felt chilled straight through.
Called out one by one, their faces went from red to white and back again.
In the end Patsy flushed and mumbled out one line. "You did it willingly. Who's there to blame?"
That one line left me weightless, my heart squeezed in a merciless fist, a ringing droning in my ears.
