Chapter 22 In Which I Receive a Performance Review
In Which I Receive a Performance Review
I expected to leave for the office on Sparkles while Sahir rode his own horse, but he surprised me by leading me out of Faerie on foot. We stood together in the toadstool portal as it shimmered, and Sahir pulled me into the mortal realm on a sideways step.
I stumbled into him, and he caught me, steadying hands on my shoulders. “No horses?” I asked, hefting my backpack onto his fingers. He pulled away with a wince and shook his head.
“I would not inflict this city upon a horse,” he said as he tapped on a nearby rock. The rock face cracked open and Sahir pulled out a small red motorbike. “And this bike is very cool,” he added, sliding his backpack onto my shoulders on top of mine.
I snorted, sure I looked ridiculous.
He popped the seat and pulled two helmets out.
“Hop on,” he said, closing the seat again and passing me a helmet.
I jammed it onto my head, fumbling with the clasp for a moment before he took pity on me.
He grabbed the straps, his fingers under my chin, and pulled them together until the helmet sat snug on my head.
His fingertips lingered at my jaw. Then he put his own helmet on and straddled the bike.
I jumped on behind him, wrapping my arms around his waist.
We sped through the streets so fast I felt sure he was using magic, and when we reached our building, he tapped a wall that most definitely had a restaurant on the other side and no space for a motorbike. The wall split, revealing another space for the bike. “Convenient,” I said.
When we went through the revolving doors into the lobby, I stuttered a step. It was so sterile, white and wide and empty. The security guard stared determinedly at a spot above my head, his jaw set. I waved at him. He didn’t notice.
I fumbled for my key card, grateful I’d never taken my wallet out of my backpack.
Sahir and I tapped into the elevator bank and waited for an elevator to take us to our floor. When it opened, we stepped inside together.
The doors closed, and I flung myself at him with the violence of unadulterated terror, pressing my face against his shoulder. “I’m scared,” I whispered.
I felt him startle before he put his arms around me. “Do not fret, Miriam. It will—” He stopped. He couldn’t tell me it would be okay. He didn’t believe it. “I will be nearby,” he said.
The elevator stopped at our floor, and we pulled apart. He patted me once on the arm, attempting comfort and probably leaving a bruise.
The doors opened and Sahir tapped us into the secure area of the floor. We parted there, him turning right and me left.
Entering the office was surreal—nothing had changed and yet everything felt different. The grays of the carpet felt more aggressive than ever; the dull white walls bore into my soul. A pang hit as I realized how much I missed the dirt-made structure of the Court.
I came to our row of desks and found everyone already settled, preparing for our nine a.m. meeting.
“Miri?” Levi said, looking up at me as I opened my backpack and put my computer on my desk. “What are you doing here?”
I ground my teeth together. Levi should attend some remedial human classes on manners. “I found a way to leave Faerie,” I said.
I waited for him to comment.
He grunted and nodded. No one else said anything, and none of them looked at me: I felt like some awful insect they couldn’t face.
I sighed and put my bag down.
“I guess I can just get Jeff,” Matt said. “Since we’re all here, we don’t need to have a morning call.”
Matt stood up and knocked on Jeff’s open door. I looked at Corey, who finally smiled at me but didn’t say anything. I sat in my chair and swiveled until I faced my teammates.
Jeff and Matt came back, Matt pulling out Jeff’s chair for him. Jeff sat down while Matt was still moving, and Matt grunted but pulled him the rest of the way. When Jeff saw me, a range of expressions crossed his face: shock, confusion, and then annoyance.
Everyone settled and we all looked at each other.
“Miri, you haven’t been here in a while,” Jeff said in a flat voice.
I stared at him. “I’ve been trapped in Faerie.”
“Oh, right,” he said, and then looked at Levi, dismissing me entirely. “What do we need to discuss today?”
“We have a lot of pitches,” Levi said.
“We always have a lot of pitches,” Matt muttered.
“There’s the vampire novelty T-shirt company,” Levi said. “We could pitch them for a capital raise.”
Jeff shook his head. “Too new.”
“And the Faerie project, of course,” Levi added. “Which should close soon.”
“Not sure what Miri will do after that,” Jeff sighed, like my presence was making his life harder. I gaped at him.
“I can come back here every day now, Jeff,” I said. “I won’t be remote anymore. So you can put me on a new project.”
I reached for the space where my ring had once sat, but my finger was bare. So I twined my hands together and looked at him. His neck sagged into the starched white collar of his shirt. He was wearing a tie with his alma mater’s logo on it.
“Your pitch decks haven’t led to any new deals,” he said, his icy eyes on my face.
“Neither have Matt’s or Corey’s,” I said. “No one has gotten any new deals—not just me.”
He brushed this off with a half shrug, his jaw set and his features hard.
“Jeff, don’t you have anything to say to me?” I asked. “Or to Matt and Corey?” There was a buzzing in my ears, a sound like a swarm of venomous bees rising around me in a maelstrom of impotent rage.
“You need to work on your sales strategy, Miri,” Jeff said. “Don’t bring your colleagues into this.”
My head exploded like a bottle of champagne. I was surprised to find it still attached to my neck when I inhaled again.
“Jeff, I have done everything you asked me to, even when it went against my better judgment, and even when it actively harmed me. I have worked hundred-hour weeks—”
“Then you need to utilize your hours better,” Jeff interrupted. “Because your work output doesn’t support that statement.”
Levi snickered. Matt and Corey had the decency to look uncomfortable: Matt looked like he’d just walked in on his own grandma naked, and Corey also looked like he’d just walked in on Matt’s grandma naked.
“Jeff, you—” I stopped, racking my brain for options:
Run-of-the-mill dingbat
Absolute turdwaffle
Shitstain on a shower curtain
Might be right; I’m sorry
No. Not D. Never D again. I hadn’t faced down kidnapping, magical prejudice, a controlling asshole prince, and a hostile magical Queen just to cower in front of this man.
My rage turned potent. I stood up, so that for once I was taller than him. I stared down at the thinning dishwater hair crowning his head.
“Jeff, I’ve seen true power,” I said, the words coming out so hard they nearly cracked my teeth. “You are powerless.”
My hands shook at my sides. “You are useless.” There was hot anger gathering in the corners of my eyes. I blinked it away.
His stupid pink face remained impassive. “You are pointless and irrelevant.” My breath scraped its way up my trachea, hurt as I exhaled.
He crossed his arms, crinkling his suit jacket. “Are you done?”
“No, you festering bag of pustulent dicks,” I growled.
Matt snickered; I shot him a glare so virulent that he folded up into his seat like a discarded marionette.
I turned my attention back to Jeff, who sat apparently unaffected, except for two hectic spots of pink on his cheeks.
“Jeff, you are a needlessly cruel man. If you have any redeeming qualities, I haven’t personally encountered them.
I’ve had bacterial infections that provided me with better mentorship than you have. ”
“Miri, I’m giving you a warning,” Jeff said, finally leaning forward. “You can’t talk to me like that. I’m your manager and I can make your life hell.”
We stared at each other. What—what did he think he’d been doing to date?
He didn’t deserve any more of my energy, but I deserved to tell him what I needed to.
I squared my shoulders. “Jeff, you’re the most incompetent boss I’ve ever had the displeasure of working for.
You communicate like you want us to be scared and confused, you make up problems to feel important, and you haven’t brought in a single client because you’re too busy arguing with them about their daughters.
You’re clearly not invested in my success, and, other than trapping me in Faerie, I don’t think you’ve given me anything I’ll remember. ”
I hoisted my backpack onto my shoulder.
“I quit. Effective immediately.”
His mouth dropped open.
I didn’t wait to see anyone’s response. I left my computer on the desk, turned my back on the team, and kicked my chair away so hard it spun behind me.
I crossed our floor to Sahir’s desk, where he sat with empty chairs on either side of him.
I glared at his teammates, who had the gall to stare unabashedly back at me.
“Sahir,” I said quietly. He looked up; his eyes were so wide I could see white all around his irises, and he’d gripped his desk until the particle board had splintered.
“I did not want to interrupt,” he whispered. “But I felt a lot of pain. Are you harmed?”
“I’m fine,” I said, a little hoarse. “I just quit, is all.”
His shoulders relaxed, and he stood up, too close to me for an office setting. “Should we leave?” he asked.
I shook my head. “I’ll go home without you,” I said. “I don’t need to disrupt your day. But let’s eat dinner with Lene and Gaheris after work.”
A lock of his hair had escaped its bun—it curled against his temple, the tip sprouting a small green leaf. I put a hand to his face and brushed the leaf behind his ear. “I’ll see you soon,” I said, and stepped away, still staring daggers at his teammates.
With that, I left the Tartarus building for the last time. I waited for the crushing weight of regret, but it didn’t come.