LISA
I bent over the table, the din of the busy restaurant fading into the background as I struggled to contain my anger. Repressing the urge to yell, I kept my voice low, fury dripping from the words. "What did you say? I'm sure I didn't hear you correctly."
Ethan relaxed back in his chair, not at all concerned by my ire. "I said Brian is being promoted to partner."
My hand tightened around my glass so hard, I was surprised it didn't shatter. "That was supposed to be my promotion."
He shrugged. "Things changed."
"I worked my ass off. I brought in over nine million. You told me if I surpassed last year, I'd be made partner."
He waved his hand. "And Brian brought in twelve million."
I slammed my hand on the table, not giving a shit if it drew attention to us. "That's because the bastard went behind my back and stole the client. The campaign idea was mine. He fucking ripped me off!"
"Your word against his, Lisa."
"Bullshit. This is all bullshit."
"The decision is made, and the offer has been extended. Put in the effort, and maybe next year will be your year."
"That's it?"
"That's it. You'll get a generous bonus."
A bonus.
I didn't want another fucking bonus. I wanted that promotion. It should have been mine.
I stood up so fast my chair toppled back, hitting the floor with a loud thud. I drew myself up to my full 5'8" height and scowled down at him. Given the fact that Ethan didn't break the 5'6" mark, sitting, he looked rather small.
Ethan raised his eyebrow. "Careful, Lisa. Remember, at Anderson Inc., we're all about teamwork. You're still part of the team — an important one."
I regarded him steadily, tamping down the desire to tell him to go fuck himself. "The team. Right."
Shaking my head, I walked away.
★★★
I strode into my office, slamming the door behind me. My assistant looked up, startled, a half-eaten sandwich in her hand.
“What did I fucking tell you about eating at your desk?” I snapped.
She scrambled to her feet.
“Y–you were out,” she stuttered. “I was working on your expenses. I thought...”
“Well, whatever you thought was fucking wrong.” Reaching across her desk, I plucked the offending sandwich from her hand, grimacing at the concoction. “Peanut butter and jam? Is that the best you can do on what they pay you?” I cursed as the jam dripped on the edge of my jacket. “Goddamnit!”
Her already pale face blanched further as she looked at the red smear on my gray suit.
“Ms. Manoban, I’m so sorry. I’ll take it to the cleaners right away.”
