Chapter 2 #2
“Exactly. In that time, the Bannam account is the only one you’ve led despite single-handedly saving multiple accounts.
You only got this chance because Travis was sick.
No offense, since it has nothing to do with your skills.
It’s just that we both know you wouldn’t have had the opportunity to try otherwise. ”
I shrug, looking out the window at the stacks of buildings that are usually inspiring but now just look boxed in. “And because Brody asked for me after that so he could ask me out.”
“He asked for you because he knows how talented you are. You nailed that pitch, and the concept was better than whatever Travis put together.” There’s a pause. “Obviously he also thinks you’re hot, but who doesn’t? I know I do.” She winks at me.
I exhale loudly, tenting my hands behind my neck as I pace back and forth in my small cubicle space. That’s what I am at work. Small. Replaceable. Demotable. What if that extends to other jobs as well? What if all I’m destined to be is small?
Bile rises in my throat. “I’m going to throw up.”
“It’s just a feeling. Breathe.” Corina places a hand on my back, moving it in a circular motion. “Breathe through it. Everything is going to be okay.”
“How? I quit my job. How am I going to make money? Pay my bills? Live?”
“Good to see the dramatics weren’t just momentary insanity.”
I glower in her direction.
“Okay, I can see where this is going, and we need to reel you back in here.” Corina moves my wireless keyboard out of the way, perches on my desk, and pats the spot next to her. I take a seat, and she jumps up. “We need supplies. I’ll be right back with some essentials.”
I focus on my breathing until she comes back, carrying a bottle of whiskey, a stack of plastic cups, and two empty copy-paper boxes for my belongings.
She sets the belongings on the round table near my cubicle. “We are not letting you leave here with anything other than a smile on your face.”
I check the time on my phone. “It’s ten in the morning, Corina.”
“Planning your future can’t always wait for wine o’clock.” She shrugged. “It’s not like Travis’s whiskey knows what time it is. Besides, I couldn’t run out for champagne on such short notice. Next time you plan to quit in a blaze of glory, give your best girl a heads-up first.”
“You’re working,” I remind her. One of us still has a job.
“I’m taking a sick day,” she says, loud enough for the entire office to hear. Then she fills each plastic cup with a shot of whiskey, handing me one as she perches on the edge of my desk.
With the cup in my hand, I care less about the time and more about the injustice of everything. Depleting Travis’s whiskey stash can be my way of personally thanking him for all his unwavering support.
“To new beginnings,” Corina says, interrupting my thoughts. She taps her cup against mine when I don’t move to clink hers.
“The promotion was my new beginning.”
“Now this is!” She taps her cup against mine again. “Your future is wide open, Abigail. The only person who can get in your way is you.”
I frown at my cup. “What if I can’t do whatever it is I’m going to do? What if I’m not enough?”
Corina places a comforting hand on my shoulder. “Abigail, you are more than enough. If you don’t drink to that, I’m leaving you to wallow on your own.”
She taps her cup against mine a third time, and we throw them back like shots.
The whiskey burns as it travels down my throat, but the pain is nothing compared to being burned by BrandMe after all the time, energy, and talent I gave them.
Corina is right; I don’t need this place.
I just need me…and to figure out whatever’s next.
Corina refills our cups with another shot each. “Selfishly, I wish you weren’t going, but the other part of me is screaming, ‘Run, girl!’ You have so much potential that goes underappreciated here. This is your chance to show yourself and everyone else what you’re made of.”
“It could be your chance, too. We can be unemployed together! Wouldn’t that be fun?”
She shakes her head, her thumb absentmindedly folding across her hand to twist her wedding ring. “I get that quitting because you felt you had no other choice is scary, but it’s not the end of the world.”
“Sort of feels like it,” I say, though Corina seems to be talking about more than my current situation.
She takes a long sip of whiskey. “You still have Brody. He won’t stay here without you.”
“He has a contract,” I counter.
“He can break a contract with the right reasons or sum of money. He wouldn’t leave his girlfriend hanging.”
I swallow back more bile. “I suppose.” Brody really disliked Travis, after all.
“You’re the one killing it on his account.”
“I thought so, but then?—”
Corina stops me. “Don’t let Travis or our short-sighted boss make you think otherwise. You’ve been killing it, and you can keep doing so without BrandMe.”
She’s right. What do I need them for? They would never promote me, and they weren’t of any help with Brody’s account.
I spent days and nights learning his brand from top to bottom, and this is a chance to prove I have what it takes to bring Brody’s brand to the next level.
Which I can definitely, almost certainly, do.
“Go to Fiji on your own dime,” Corina continues. “Show BrandMe what a stupid error they’ve made and enjoy every single minute of it and the trip overall. Because Fiji? Girl, I’m beyond jealous.”
Could I afford to go without BrandMe covering my expenses?
More importantly, could I afford not to?
“You’ll still check in on Jasper if I go?” I ask.
“Of course. I might even keep that black fur ball for myself. You know he likes me better.”
I roll my eyes, but I’m far from annoyed.
In fact, I’m feeling almost optimistic about this shift.
I could convince Brody to let me continue leading his brand strategy, go to Fiji with him, and make a real name for myself as a brand manager.
By the time I get back, who knows what sort of opportunities will knock on my door?
“Fine, Jasper likes me second best, and I probably won’t catnap him. Just know I could.”
“Yes, that’s convincing me to leave him here and run off to Fiji.”
It’s not until we finish sipping a third shot and pack one box that I really buy into Corina’s suggestion that Fiji is still a good idea. She’s talked me up so much that even I think I can manage Brody’s brand without an agency. Though one would certainly help, given there’s only 24 hours in a day.
“Brody is your boyfriend,” Corina says. “He doesn’t want you working around the clock.”
“Righttt.” I’m not as convinced. Brody may want time with his girlfriend, but it’s hard to shake the feeling his career comes first. Though his brand is an important piece of that puzzle, whether or not his brand manager is his girlfriend.
But having big dreams and following through with them shouldn’t be held against someone. Sarah had big dreams, made big plans, and achieved things she shouldn’t have been able to for someone her age. Then…
“I’m going to miss you so much.” Corina lifts a framed photo of Brody and me off my desk.
I pluck the photo out of her hand, not having to look to know it’s from the first trip Brody and I took together.
We were at a race car track in Idaho, after a road trip to the middle of nowhere.
It was supposed to be relaxing, like a spa or a stay at an adorable bed-and-breakfast. Instead, we were glamping (at least he knew not to put me in an actual tent outside on the ground) and waking up early to get to a racetrack for what turned out to be a work event.
The racetrack’s new owners wanted to film a commercial of a few somewhat recognizable folks—spanning thrill seekers and athletes to actual race car drivers—testing the track and singing its praises, followed by a meet and greet event for fans.
Watching Brody whip around the track made me queasy, but I grabbed a few cool clips for social media and rallied in time to get this photo with Brody in front of the race car.
His smile was huge when we got back into his car (with me driving because who knew how much of the racing mindset was still in him), making the entire thing worth it.
I set the picture back on my desk, not ready to box everything up yet. “I’m only going to be in Fiji for two weeks, Cor. You won’t have time to miss me.”
“Yeah, but I’m going to miss you around here.” She gestures to the office as if she hadn’t spent the last two hours convincing me quitting had been a good idea. “Not that you shouldn’t leave, obviously.”
“You act like we don’t see each other all the time outside of work.”
She frowns. “Yeah, but who am I going to gossip with over break room coffee? Who’s going to do hot girl walks with me during lunch break? Or fake walks when it’s raining? What about lunch? If you’re not here, I’ll have to eat with Doris, or sit at my desk working the entire time.”
“Sounds like a prime opportunity to check out a new podcast or two, which you can then tell me about at spin class or happy hour once I’m back from Fiji.”
“You’re only saying that because I can’t resist a true crime podcast, and there are far too many out there to get through in one lifetime.”
I force a smile. “Perhaps. Are you going to refill my cup, or did you drink all the whiskey?”
Corina laughs. “Almost, but there’s some I didn’t get to. Let me grab some ice, though.”
“Great. I’m going to run to the restroom. Meet you back here in a few.”
I head to the office bathroom, relieved to find it empty. I turn on the cold water at the sink, dampening my hands before pressing them to my cheeks. Quitting isn’t the end of the world. It’s just the end of this chapter of my life, which isn’t the worst thing to happen.
I pat my face dry with a paper towel and study myself in the mirror.
This morning may have been a whirlwind of change, but I still look the same: wispy red hair hanging in loose waves—very loose given I didn’t hit them with a curling iron this morning—past my shoulders, dark brown brows thickened with a pencil, and a sprinkling of light freckles across my nose and cheeks.
Mascara and lavender shadow make the green in my hazel eyes pop, which hopefully distracts from my perpetual under-eye circles.
Though there’s only so much makeup can fix, and my life isn’t one of them.
Chucking my paper towel in the trash after using it to open the door, I head back toward my desk.
It’s time to face the realities of my decision and Corina’s attempt at turning it all into a last minute going away party.
She and I could celebrate (if that’s the right word) properly during happy hour at our usual spot, but now is the time to soak in my last moments at BrandMe.
How underappreciated I am here. How wrong it is for Travis to be handed my account after all the hard work I put in.
How hypocritical and biased it is to penalize me when other male colleagues, including Carl and Travis, had violated the same archaic rule with no repercussions.
As if beckoned by my thoughts, Carl appears on the other side of the glass door separating the BrandMe offices from the shared restrooms. He opens the door before I can run and hide.
Not that I would! That’d look like I thought I did something wrong with Brody’s account or by quitting or by dating my client in the first place, and I do not feel any of that.
Carl’s brows furrow at the sight of me. “You’re still here?”
Fair question, given I quit in a blaze of glory hours ago. “I’m packing up my things. Unless you or Travis want the burden of sending them to me? Wait, that won’t work either since I’ll be in Fiji with Brody.”
“Abigail, the Bannam account is?—”
“My boyfriend’s account, as you had no trouble throwing in my face earlier.
Imagine how he’ll feel when he learns you booted me from his account after he requested me by name.
He wasn’t thrilled reading your email this morning, especially when he realized Travis was the person setting up his brand for failure when he first signed on.
So, no, I don’t think the Bannam account belongs to BrandMe.
It belongs to me, and I earned it fair and square. ”
Carl opens his mouth to protest further, but my phone rings. I pull it out of my pocket, and even though I don’t recognize the number on the screen, I say, “Sorry, I have to take this very important call.”
I walk back into the BrandMe office space before answering the phone. “This is Abigail.”
“Hello,” a woman’s voice greets on the other end of the line. “Is this Abigail Adams?”
Something in her tone makes my mouth dry, and I barely confirm my identity before she introduces herself and the name of a hospital in the same sentence.
My world begins crashing around me before she even says anything about Brody.