I left level 20 with a stack of reviewed proposal papers covered with Saint scribbling his comments; all capital letters and circles with red ink, like these papers had been put to the sword before surrender in a battlefield.
I read his comments on these papers like reading my former (and temperamental) Marketing lecturer's spiteful remarks on her students' assignments:
'PLEASE DRESS UP OPEX FIGURES TO FOLLOW APPROVED BUDGET. REVISE!'
'TOO MANY GRAMMATICAL ERRORS! REVISE!'
JUSTIFICATION FOR PROPOSAL IS NOT SUBSTANTIVE. REVISE!
'PLEASE GET CLEARANCE FROM SHARIA, LEGAL, RISK & FINANCE!'
I contemplate deeper inside the descending elevator, whether I was the one who created this monster. Did Saint become bitter as a result from his resentment over my rejection?
I arrive at level 6 with much exhaustion despite it's only 9.30 am. I return the papers to its respective Originators before resigning to my chair.
"What's this?" Melinda pouts at her papers before turning to me.
"T-Rex asks you to redo your paper," I answer wearily.
"What the hell? If we redo, we've to get our bosses to sign back!" she groans. "Why must he interfere?"
"New management, new dictatorship. So, we all need to buck up," I sigh heavily. "Anyways, it doesn't affect the signatory page, just amend whichever the parts he scrawled on and you're good to go."
She scoffs in disagreement and fling the papers on her desk. "Can T-Rex be any more inhuman than this?"
"Oh, you think that's cold hearted. He set the incoming MC meeting to start at 5.00 pm because Dato' Bahadin has another appointment at 3.00 pm elsewhere," I complained. "I guess CoSec team's gonna set up an indoor tent and do sleepovers here moving forward."
"You should try a glamping tent," Melinda jokes sympathetically. "I wish you all good luck."
🍀🍀🍀🍀🍀🍀
I think I need the most luck among my teammates to stay in this organisation when Nurazwan (we call her Wan for short) from HR calls me for a private talk before delivering my first warning letter for verbally assaulting Saint.
"What happened, babe?" Wan asks me carefully.
"I had an outburst," I answer in a sorrow manner. "There was some miscommunication between me and the CEO's office. T-Rex said Dato' Bahadin's conference call with the International Islamic Finance Council is expected to end by 5.30 pm local time but he never mentioned anything about local time being Jakarta time."
"Then, why the dispute?" Wan asks further.
"I rescheduled the MC meetings to 5.30 pm Malaysia time, causing an unnecessary hold up among MC members. A couple of them were upset over the mix-up and complained to the CEO's office. But I sorted things out with T-Rex after that," I entail the situation.
"Well, when you 'sorted things out', is it the usual head-to-head discussion or..."
"What do you mean?" I query.
"He said you convey some derogatory remarks on him," she clarifies.
I droop to her statement. "I could've straightened it out in an utmost professional manner. But I just couldn't control myself when he lost his temper, calling me daft. That's why I said what I shouldn't have said."
"Which is?" she cocks her eyebrow, waiting for me to confess.
"I told him, 'You're the reason why your daddy left'," I force those words out like it's poisonous.
"Woah, that's diabolical!" Wan mouths and her eyes widen to my statement.
"I know it's the most savage thing I've ever said to a person," I say dryly. "I never thought I'd have the guts to say things like that."
"Well, like you said, you had an outburst," she says matter-of-factly. "But do you think berating him would solve the issues? Are you feeling better now?"
"I'm not. I feel like shit."
Wan pauses the conversation as she studies my remorseful face, trying to reassess my guilty emotions.
"Sofia," she begins. "We know about your history with T-Rex. But you're an adult now and so is he. You don't get to treat him the way you did when you were in your teens. He's answerable to the CEO for the blunder you've created."
Although Wan spoke to me in her most amiable manner, my guilt trip is rubbed like salt on wound by her sharp words prickling into my soul.
"Will a warning letter affect my performance appraisal (KPI) this year?" I ask out of the blue, staring at the envelope which Wan had placed in front of me.
She sighs before replies, "Any form of warning letter would definitely have an influence on the employee's KPI."
"Maybe I should apologise to him," I respond, thinking it would rectify the situation to avoid my performance being rated as Unsatisfactory.
"That's not just it. He deserves the same respect no matter how insignificant he is to you. And yeah, you owe him an apology, a big one," she counsels. "And your access card to level 20 has been revoked automatically from now on."
🌸🌺🌼🍀🌸🌺🌼🍀
It took only a couple of weeks to abate the gossip circle that spreads like wildfire in this Bank. Some followed me and Saint's upcoming dramas like we're a reality TV celebrities, while some took no interest in it. And as the couple of months passed, everything resumed to normal.
CoSec department no longer made me the dispatch girl for level 20 since the restraining order. I've been paired up with Hasanah for MC meetings where she becomes the liaison officer for the CEO's office. Despite Saint and I making several efforts to avoid seeing each other, we would remain strictly professional if we had to communicate on inevitable occasions.
In spite of that, last week at the lift lobby was an exception. He got into an elevator while I waited for the next one just to avoid being in the same elevator with him. But when I pressed the lobby lift button to call the next elevator too soon, his door reopens abruptly.
"Will you stop meddling with the button, please?!" he barked.
So, yesterday was a well-deserved revenge. I couldn't help being a bitch by deliberately shutting the elevator door in his face as he tried to get in. The triumphant feeling was overflowing that my mood sparked up throughout the day.
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