Chapter 2
After grabbing a breakfast sandwich from the coffee shop around the corner (because there’s no way I’m wasting time cooking when there’s a dumpster fire awaiting me at work) and two large coffees, I’m in the BrandMe office.
Specifically, my boss’s black and bland office that smells of stale coffee and Carl’s musky cologne, even though he isn’t here.
“Abigail,” Carl’s voice sounds behind me as he draws out my name. “Something I can help you with?”
I hand him the bribery coffee I picked up on the way to work and reheated in the office microwave twice since. As he sips the twice-baked coffee, none the wiser, I speak.
“I’m here to find out what’s going on with the Bannam account. There must be some sort of mistake because I learned this morning there was an email suggesting I’m off it.”
Carl settles into his chair, leaning back with a loud sigh. “Listen, Abigail. You’re great at what you do and clearly very passionate.”
“So why did you take me off the Bannam account?” I repeat. “And why’d you put Travis back on it? He’s the one who nearly lost us the account in the first place!”
“Right to the point. See what I mean? Great at your job as an assistant brand manager. Travis is a brand manager, making him better equipped to handle things without getting distracted.”
“Distracted?” I reach into my bag and produce a file. “Are these the efforts of a distracted person?” I hand Carl the top page from the folder, outlining the uptick in followers and engagement across Brody’s key social media channels since I started managing his brand.
Carl barely looks at the page before letting it drop onto the paper graveyard that is his desk.
“Abigail—”
“Or how about this?” I slap down another paper, detailing all the media and PR opportunities I had fielded for Brody in the past five months.
“Or this?” I smack the last sheet, showing the increase in sponsors and sponsorship amounts, on top of the rest. “Tell me, do these look like the results of someone who is distracted?”
He slides the stack of papers toward me, shifting some of his own in the process. “Perhaps not, or perhaps they’re the obsessive chroniclings of a young woman crushing on her adrenaline junkie boyfriend who’s also a client at this firm. Didn’t realize I knew, huh?”
I shake my head, then remember Travis poking around my accounts more than usual. Payback for stealing one of his, I suppose. “Didn’t realize it mattered.”
“There is a rule against dating clients.”
My cheeks heat in indignation. “A rule no one has ever enforced! Not when Travis was hooking up with that NFL cheerleader, and things crashed and burned so badly Connie had to take over her account. And not when you had an affair with?—”
“That’s quite enough.” Carl rises from his chair at what would have been an alarming speed if it hadn’t taken him two tries.
“I get this isn’t the news you wanted, but it’s the news you got.
Actions have consequences, and you don’t get to take the reputation of this firm or your colleagues down with you because you’re mad. ”
“Because I’m mad? Carl, I’m furious.” I rise to meet him at eye level.
“I’ve been killing myself to get this account right—to prove to you and everyone else that I deserve this promotion.
Now you’re taking it all away days before it’s official?
What, am I supposed to just stay an assistant manager, doing all the work with little recognition?
” Because Travis isn’t the only slacking brand manager at BrandMe—just one I’m often saddled with.
“Let’s discuss it.” Carl gestures for me to sit back down, and he does the same. “Protocol is to move you to all new accounts in case of other…relationships we aren’t aware of.”
“There aren’t other relationships.”
“You’ll understand I can’t take your word for it,” Carl says, forcing a frown. “I have to follow protocol.”
“So, what? You want me to learn all new accounts and do all the work? I’ve been with some of my clients for six years, Carl!”
“It’s unfortunate to make such a change, but it’s necessary.”
I take deep, calming breaths. I’m going to be an assistant manager for all new accounts. That might be okay. Another opportunity to manage an account would arise, or I could use this moment to leverage some better clients.
Carl clears his throat, regaining my attention. “You should also know, our other accounts already have an assistant manager on them.”
“We’re swapping?” It seems counterintuitive, since that means more clients dealing with change, but it’s not my call to make.
He pauses. “We’ll be bringing in a new assistant manager to cover your current accounts.”
I’m about to tell him to spit out whatever he’s trying to say, but then it hits me. They’re opening up my role to backfill it. If the other accounts already have an assistant manager attached to them, then that leaves me…where does it leave me?
“What do you expect me to do, Carl? Take calls? File paperwork?”
Carl nods at the papers I had furnished as proof of my competency on the Bannam account. “You’ve seen your numbers, Abigail. Community engagement specialist seems like a natural fit.”
My jaw clenches as I let out a huff of air. “I’ve been a community engagement specialist, Carl. Five years ago.” It’s how I started at BrandMe—not where I’m supposed to be years later.
“And you were great at it, I think.” He waves a dismissive hand as he takes another sip of microwaved coffee. Twice-baked or not, I regret bringing him the bribe. “Regardless, we can’t have you in PR right now or as a major face on an account in case someone else catches wind of this situation.”
“You have got to be kidding me!”
“Abigail—”
“Don’t Abigail me.” My heart pounds in my chest, a warning drum of injustice. “I’ve been here six years, and you’re demoting me?”
“Try looking at it as a reallocation. Leading an account was already beyond what we expected of you. Right now, we don’t need another account leader; we need a team player. Can you be that team player, Abigail? It may not be the job you wanted, but it’s the only job we’ve got.”
It’s easy to read between the lines of Carl’s words.
There is no brand manager opening for me.
There never was. My options are to take the demotion or have no job at all.
Unless there’s a way to hold on to Brody’s account for a little longer?
Long enough to blow past day 180, generate even more incredible results, and prove once and for all that I earned this promotion.
Then they’d make room for me at the brand manager table. How could they not?
“I can’t be taken off the Bannam account at present. I’m booked on set with him in Fiji next week to help with branding as Brody—Mr. Bannam—films the next season of Rush. I’ve been preparing for over a month, and it needs to go perfectly.”
“Travis can go. Get him up to speed this afternoon.”
“Travis?”
Carl scrapes a hand over his face. “It’s his account, Abigail. His account, his trip. You can use that time to learn the new accounts you’re supporting.”
My hand flies to my neck, touching the gold round locket on its simple chain. Technically, it’s still my trip since I paid out of pocket and we don’t submit expense reports until after we return. Am I really giving it up?
No, there’s no way in hell Travis is taking my job and my spot in Fiji and giving me a demotion to boot. This is my opportunity of a lifetime; my chance to prove myself despite BrandMe and Carl holding me back. If I give it up, I won’t get the opportunity back. That much is crystal clear.
“No.” The word slips out of my mouth so softly I almost think I’ve dreamed it.
“Excuse me?”
I clear my throat and speak louder. “I’m sorry, but no. That won’t be happening.”
Carl’s eyebrows shoot upward. “What are you talking about? We’ve decided, Abigail. There’s no unmaking the decision, even if I wanted to.”
I nod, my confidence inflating with every second. “You decided, but so am I. I quit.”
“What?” Carl sputters, choking on his coffee. I’m glad I brought it after all.
“You heard me. I’ve worked my ass off for this company and this opportunity, and you’re going to take it all away because of an outdated HR policy literally no one here has ever followed?
I’m sorry, but no way in hell is that happening, and I don’t see another choice here. Perhaps that was your plan all along.”
I’m fired up, but this is the only account I’ve led during my tenure at BrandMe. They’re going to take that away despite my success? No way. No freaking way.
“Now, Abigail, let’s not?—”
“No, Carl. I said it, and I mean it. I quit. Effective immediately.”
I storm out of Carl’s office and over to my corner cubicle before he can say anything else.
Thankfully, Corina is already waiting for me.
With her neutral pencil dress, plum lipstick, and curls in her long black hair, she’s put together in a way that’s a hysterical contrast to the pure adrenaline and chaos I’m feeling.
Her brown eyes widen at my wild approach. “Did I hear what I think I heard?”
“If you heard me shouting my resignation, then yes.”
“Girl, yes!” Corina reaches up to high-five me, but the sound of our palms clapping together startles my mind back to reality.
What have I done? Did I really quit after years of trying to get that promotion?
Surely there’d be other accounts to lead.
Not right now because I’d be too busy working my way back up the ladder, but I could have used the transition to bargain for one or two other accounts I hadn’t been afforded in the past. Was it too late to go back in there and beg for my job? My demotion?
“Stop it,” Corina says, ending my spiraling thoughts. “I can tell you’re second-guessing your choice, and I’m here to confirm you’re doing the right thing.”
“But I’ve been here for six years!”