Chapter 14 - Perception #2
Tom nodded and grinned. “Guess that means we’re safe, right?”
William couldn’t blame Tom for smiling, but it was far from good news. The workload wouldn’t magically lessen to accommodate a smaller team. They were already struggling to meet deadlines—how the hell would they manage at half-capacity?
“Who?” William asked.
“Frank, Penelope—” Tom straightened at the sound of heels thudding on the carpet. “Thanks,” he said louder. “I’ll send you the files now.”
William watched Tom walk out of his cubicle, his mind racing as he tried to guess who else had lost their jobs. He hoped Joseph wasn’t on the list. He’d made a lot of mistakes recently, but who wouldn’t when their child was diagnosed with a rare type of cancer?
William looked up as the new director halted in front of his cubicle.
“William,” she said with a smile. “Hope I’m not interrupting anything important?”
William sat straighter. “No.”
“Could you come into my office for a few minutes?”
“Uh, sure.” William locked his computer and stood up, reminding himself he had no reason to worry. Five people had lost their jobs, but he wasn’t one of them. He was safe.
Unless . . .
William had taken an early lunch break. Could they have come for him while he was away?
Shit.
William stared blankly at her bouncing curls as he followed her, dread flooding every inch of his body. This couldn’t be happening. He couldn’t lose his job now. He had someone to support. Adathan depended on him.
“Please, take a seat,” she said too cheerfully.
The scent of jasmine tea reached William’s nose as he closed the door. He sat on the chair facing her impeccable desk with a heavy heart, folding his tense hands in his lap. His gaze swept over the many pictures of her dogs before finding her face. She was still smiling.
“I suspect you must have heard about the layoffs,” she said. “Don’t worry; that’s not why I wanted to talk to you.”
William let out a sharp breath. “I’m not getting fired?” he asked, hating how vulnerable he sounded.
“No.” She chuckled. “God no.” She patted a pile of papers on her desk. “As you know, I’ve been observing this team’s operations over the past few weeks. And I must admit, I’m a little puzzled by your case.”
William tensed back up.
“In a good way,” she specified. “You’ve been here for nine years, and have continuously offered above-average productivity.” She cocked her head. “What the hell are you still doing in data entry?”
William blinked. “I, uh. I don’t understand.”
“What I’m saying,” she said with a flourish of her hand, “is that you’re an exceptional employee. How weren’t you promoted yet?”
William glanced at the papers on her desk. The top sheet was blank. “Exceptional? I’m not—are you sure you’re talking to the right person?”
She huffed, her smile fading. Disappointment flashed across her features as she shook her head. “Why am I not surprised?”
“Huh?”
William didn’t normally consider himself a stupid person, but at this very moment, he was starting to rethink his self-assessment. Because he had no idea what the fuck this conversation was, or what to make of it.
She leaned against her desk, looking him in the eye.
“I’ll cut to the chase. This department is a joke and you’re wasted potential.
I’ll need help straightening out operations to achieve industry standards.
I’m offering you a team leading role effective Monday.
And if all goes well, a management position within twelve to eighteen months. ”
William’s breath hitched. “W-wait, wait. I’ve never done this before—”
“So? You’ll learn.” Her smile returned, the glint in her eyes reminding William of his high school English teacher. She was one of those who firmly believed everyone had hidden potential—even the idiots who sniffed glue at recess.
But William wasn’t tasked with writing a short story from the point of view of a sentient object this time.
These were real responsibilities—his failures would impact more than just his report card.
People would depend on him. Multiple people.
“I, uh.” William shifted in his seat. “I’m not sure I’m cut out to be a leader. ”
“Every single one of your colleagues looks up to you.” She narrowed her eyes. “But I guess that’s another thing the incompetent administration forgot to tell you, huh?”
She leaned back, pressing her fingertips together in a loose steeple.
“Listen. I’ve seen this so many times before, you’d think they teach it in Bad Management 101.
Some entry roles are notoriously arduous to hire for, so what do lazy managers do?
They keep high-performing employees in chairs they’ve long outlived because they don’t want to go through the hassle of hiring a replacement. Personally? I call that exploitation.”
Exploitation? William had always felt like he was treated unfairly, but it had never crossed his mind that he was being exploited.
“So, what do you say?” she asked.
William parted his lips, but no sound came out. Although it felt good that his new boss was on his side, he couldn’t help but fear this was a big mistake. She barely knew him, and some skills simply couldn’t be taught.
“I don’t know if I could be a good leader,” he said reluctantly. He had to be honest with her—she would find out sooner or later anyway. “Patience isn’t exactly my strong suit.”
She let out a faint chuckle. “We could do with a little impatience around here. I’ve seen the way you work. Every single thing you do is as optimized as can be. You don’t waste time.”
William had never considered his impatience an asset. He was aware he could churn out more work than his colleagues, but he’d just assumed they all sucked.
“The company would greatly benefit from you rubbing off on your direct reports,” she said.
Direct reports.
Strange tingles spread across his skin—excitement? Could he truly be wanting this?
“I can’t force you to accept,” she said, “but I insist that you seriously consider it. I really don’t know why you have such a skewed perception of yourself, but trust me.” She patted the papers on her desk. “I’m making an informed decision.”
William stared at her hand, resisting the urge to once again ask her whether she was absolutely certain she was talking to the right person.
He didn’t need to be a genius to know that appearing to be doubting her competence would be a mistake.
Especially since he probably wouldn’t be the first man to do so.
“If I can’t convince you,” she said, flipping the top sheet of paper—which wasn’t blank, as it turned out. She slid it across her desk. “Perhaps this will.”
“What’s this?” William asked, reaching for it.
“Your new benefits.”