Me Against Her (Cate Blanchett x OC)

Transition

My resignation letter and two weeks' notice landed on Andrew's desk first thing in the morning. I didn't want to give Cate the satisfaction of rubbing it in my face again. 

Neither of them came to work on time on their official first day, so I worked with the tech staff to set up their computers and emails. Since there were two of them and just one desk for the Artistic Director, I had to give up my desk as well and move my work station to the conference room. I gritted my teeth as I packed up my belongings for the past six years, every object, note, and mark a reminder of the labor of love I had given to the company. 

But who could I blame? If I just held my tongue things wouldn't have gotten this awkward. 

By noon, the news of Cate and Andrew's appointment was all over the news. By 2 pm, four donors and two writers had reached out to cancel their lunch with me, their past efforts to build a relationship with me vanishing into thin air. By 3pm, all of them had reached out to Cate to reschedule those lunches - I knew this because I set up the password to her work email. None of them reached out to Andrew. 

I had my first handover meeting with Cate and Andrew at 6pm. They came in, this time dressed much more casually than before. Andrew was in a golf tee and khaki shorts, and Cate in a summer tent dress. The meeting itself was much more interesting though - it was like lecturing at your grandparents who you had to be polite to because of their seniority but who didn't know how anything worked. 

"Here's the balance sheet of the company - overall we're in solid financial health, our net assets exceed our net liabilities, though we could use a bit more cash flow..." I said quickly, making sure to throw around big words to confuse them. 

Before they had a chance to digest what the numbers meant, I delved into the marketing plan, "as of today we have 5 official social accounts for the company, on Facebook, Instagram, YouTube, Twitter, and TikTok. I'd highly recommend at least hiring someone part-time to look after them. Our audience is skewing younger and younger due to our reduced ticket price program - "

Now that he finally understood what I was saying, Andrew spoke up gruffly, "I don't get why we need these...social media gimmicks. They're a bit frivolous." 

I cleared my throat, "Around a fourth of our ticket sales come from social media promotion, sir. I think they're quite important to keep, especially as your proposed repertoire for next year is mostly made up of plays that nobody has ever heard of." 

"You mean The Crucible? Long Day's Journey into the Night? Our Town?" Cate scoffed, "They're all classics." 

"For theater nerds, sure." I said blankly, "Most people nowadays, they'd rather watch a YouTube skit or a dance-off challenges on TikTok than spend a night here. That's why we need these channels to reach them - " 

Cate was silent for a minute, and Andrew interrupted me, "Those are not the people we're trying to bring in anyway." 

"Fine, suit yourself." I continued, "I do recommend that you take a look at the crowd that's coming in for tonight's show before making a decision." 

-----

Over the next two weeks, I was mostly in the office with Andrew every day, and Cate only came in every few days because she had press commitments and film shoots to attend to. Whenever she came in though, their office door was always closed, and I could hear muffled arguing between the two of them through the old door crack. Though I could never make out exactly what they were arguing about. 

I remembered one day a bit more clear than the rest - it was unusual because Andrew was out of office and I was alone with Cate. We barely interacted, but her office door was open. She called me in a bit before dinnertime, as she sat in front of a desk swamped with financial documents, looking distraught. 

"Can you tell me what these numbers mean under 'payroll taxes'?" she stared at her computer screen intensely through her pink-rimmed glasses, "Our accountant is on leave today." 

I went through the entire sheet with her and played math tutor for half an hour. 

Just as I was about to leave, she spoke up again, "I remember you saying before that there's an...app on your phone to help you navigate directions?" 

"Yeah, it's called Google Maps." 

"Can you help me download it on my phone?" 

"Sure." I took her phone from her hand, and neither of us said anything as her fingers brushed across my hand, and I noticed that they were a bit clammy with sweat. 

"It's a new phone - my sons insisted that I buy a smartphone, so here we are." 

"I'll have to agree with them." 

"Listen," she sighed, "I know that Andrew and I aren't exactly experts in these new...technologies, but we're open to learning." 

"I understand. My parents are Luddites, too. It's just a generational thing." 

She let out a chuckle at the comparison, "I'm not that old, am I?" 

"My parents are around the same age." 

"So you did Google me after all?" 

A silence. 

"No," I lied, "I'm just going with my gut." 

And that was the final work-related conversation we had. Until my last day. 

-----

It was a languid summer evening in February, and there was a heat wave in Sydney that made the most chatty colleagues among us a bit quieter than usual. I was cleaning up after the evening performance for the last time when Cate stepped into the office with a triumphant glow. 

"I just had my first donor meeting," she said, "I understood all of their math questions." 

I looked back and grinned wearily, "I'm glad." 

Her mood shifted a bit as she realized that all my stuff was gone, "Where did your stuff go?"

I pointed to the cardboard boxes under the table, "All packed. It's my last day."

Then I continued packing quietly, my hands bathing in the soft orange glow of dusk that illuminated the place I called home for six years. The warm and familiar scent of carpentry, dried paint, and electric cable coatings filled my nostrils, sending a jolt of pain to my heart. Minutes must have passed before she spoke up: 

"Don't go, Edith." 

"Is there something else you need help with?" 

"No," she stepped closer and put one hand on my cardboard box, "I mean, don't leave the company. Not yet..." 

The stunned look on my face and my inability to speak must've made an impact on her, because I heard a word that I never thought would come out of her mouth.

"...please."