Working Girl

Chapter 6

I rolled over lazily in bed, and stretched. The sun was peeking through the slit in my bedroom curtains, and it looked like a beautiful day out. Rubbing the sleep out of my eyes, I glanced at the clock on my night table. 10:00am. Time to send out more resumes.

I threw my legs over the side of the bed and made my way to the master bathroom. Once I had washed my face and brushed my teeth I felt much more alert. I made my way to the kitchen to make a cup of coffee, and resume my job hunt.

If I were to be honest with myself, the stress of being without a job was really wearing me down. Originally, I had been fueled my righteous anger. What Liz had done to me was wrong, and I was sure that someone would be calling with an apology and my old job back. I was also sure that I would have a new job right away, and would be able to tell Brighton to take their job and shove it, and move on to something bigger and better. But when it was just me, sitting at home during the day while all my friends were at work, I couldn’t ignore the gnawing feeling in the pit of my stomach. The longer I went without a job offer, the more frantic I was beginning to feel.

Frantic simply wasn’t something I would allow myself to feel. Taking a quick gulp of my coffee, I opened my favorite job searching site and scrolled through the finance jobs. Seeing two newly posted jobs, I quickly created cover letters and copied down the email addresses, preparing to send off my applications.

You have one new message.

My stomach dropped. There, in my inbox, was an email from Liz, titled Follow Up. Follow up? She better mean apology, or better yet, retribution. I felt shaky as I opened the email, and my heart was racing.

Sutton,

In your haste to depart, you left behind a few personal effects. In my possession, I have one photo of Braden, three pink highlighters, a three subject notebook, and one scarf. I also have your Record of Employment and $20 deposit for your office keys.

Please advise when a convenient time would be to arrange to have these returned to you. I would be happy to drop them off at your home.

Regards,

Elizabeth Stuart

Human Resources Manager

Brighton Dance Academy

Elizabeth.stuart@bdacademy.com

902 (555) 2614

I slammed my laptop cover closed and stared at it. That’s it? She wants to return HIGHLIGHTERS?! I had been expecting an explanation, an apology, even an effort to fix this obvious mistake. Liz’s betrayal stung, and the weeks that had passed had not lessened the hurt I felt. Seeing her email has only made me more upset.

I did what any person would do in my situation. I picked up the phone and dialed.

“Hello?” came a voice on the other end of the line.

“Mom? I don’t know what to do.” I cried.

“Sutton, honey, what’s wrong?” my mother asked.

“I keep expecting – I don’t know – an apology. An explanation. I keep waiting to hear someone say whoops, we made a mistake. And now I get an email from Liz telling me she wants to arrange to give me the last few things I left behind. What IS that?!” I was yelling, getting louder as I went on.

“Life isn’t fair, kid.” I waited for her to say more, but she didn’t. Diana Daniels is not an uncaring woman, but she is very cut and dry. When I had told her I had been let go she had told me she wasn’t surprised, and had never trusted the people I worked for based on the stories I had told her.