Chapter Fifteen
Mind y
Today is the big day and I feel like crap.
I’m all dressed up in my fancy high heels and tight black skirt, ready to rock my presentation at the office. I just need to drop Sharon off at school first.
"Let’s go, baby," I tell her as I open the car door and help her out. We hold hands as we walk to the building, and I give her a smooch before saying goodbye. "You know Tania is coming to watch you perform on stage, right? She’ll be here after lunch."
"Mommy, I want you to watch me." Sharon's lips curl down. "All the other moms will be there, and I don’t want the boys to bully me again."
My heart breaks into a million pieces for the hundredth time today. I feel like the worst mother ever. Scratch that. The worst person ever. Or both. What kind of mom misses her daughter’s spotlight moment?
You, apparently, Mindy.
But then again what the hell am I supposed to do? I know it would take long to find another job if I lost this one. And it’s not like I have any savings to live on and put food on the table for my baby girl. If I don’t turn up today and present those numbers to the owners, I am certain Christine will terminate my contract with immediate effect.
I wipe away the teardrop that escaped my eye and squat down to Sharon’s eye level. "I’m so sorry, munchkin. I wish I could be here to see you shine, but work has other plans for me today.” I nearly choke on my own words. "I promise I’ll make it up to you. And guess what? We’ll both be talking to people, and they’ll all be listening. It’s like we’re doing it together, just in different places."
My explanation feels lame and Sharon is too smart to buy it. She looks at me with a pout and asks, "Can’t they just listen to you some other time?"
"I wish, baby, trust me. But it’s not that simple.” I plant a kiss on her cheek, pushing down the urge to cry. "Listen to Mommy. Tania will record it on video, and we will watch it together before bed tonight, okay?"
You’re the worst mother, Mindy.
Ever.
Period.
Sharon gives me a tight hug. "Okay."
I squeeze her back. "I love you so much, baby." I let go of her. "You will be amazing. I just know it."
Watching my daughter run to her classroom makes me so mad at Christine. Or maybe I’m not even mad at her. Maybe I’m just mad at myself for not asking her to change the schedule. Maybe it’s all my fault. But I also know that I’m walking on thin ice at the office. Christine is an inch away from firing me. With her husband constantly hitting on me and with me skipping several workdays lately to look after Sharon, she already has a beef with me.
Shit!
Fuck!
Shit!
I want to scream out my frustration. Cry out my sadness and guilt. But I don’t. Instead, I just robotically settle into the car and make my way to work, trying to gather my thoughts for the presentation ahead. The presentation I worked so hard on, trying to make those numbers and charts not look like total garbage. The flash drive that contains all of the necessary data is safely stowed in my bag. At least that’s taken care of.
When I arrive at the office, I see Christine waiting for me with an anxious expression on her face. "Hey Mindy,” she greets me, “can you drop by my office for a few minutes? Just to go over a few things before Mr. and Mrs. Thompson arrive."
"Sure, Christine." I nod, following her into her quarters. When I enter, I’m surprised to see Albert there as well, leaning against Christine’s desk with a casual air that feels out of place. Especially that the tension in the room is palpable. He flashes me a smile that makes my skin crawl, and I have to force myself not to visibly recoil.
Christine gets straight to the point. "I won’t beat around the bush, Mindy: your presentation could make or break our company. Profits have been down this year, and the owners are looking for answers. They may even consider downsizing some departments and laying off employees."
As Christine speaks, I realize that my instinct was right. With her own interests at stake, she’s all cooperation and kindness. But I know one thing for sure. If I slip up even a little, she’ll turn cold and threatening in an instant. It’s a stark reminder of the precarious position I’m in.
"I understand, Christine," I reassure her, trying to ignore Albert’s gaze, which I can feel burning into me. "I saw those numbers and I’m well aware of the stakes. I prepared a comprehensive presentation covering everything from inflation rates to the lingering effects of Covid-19. I have about twenty-four slides with pictures, detailing every aspect. And I also have some suggestions for increasing profits."
Christine looks relieved. "Good. We’re counting on you, Mindy."
"I have full confidence in you, Miss Williams," Albert interjects with a smooth tone. "You never fail to exceed expectations." There is an underlying hint in his words that sets me even more on edge, especially with his wife being present. I just hope she doesn’t pick up on it, although I doubt it. He leans in closer, his voice dropping to a low. "If you need any last-minute help or… support, let me know. I'm always happy to assist."
His words make me squirm. I mumble a half-hearted thank you, feeling like I’m being hunted by some predator. As I turn to leave, I catch him exchanging a knowing look with Christine. I can’t help but feel embarrassed for her obliviousness or willful ignorance of her husband’s advances toward me.
Then again, my bosses’ marriage is not for me to worry about. The real deal is this presentation; like Christine said, it’s a make-or-break situation. If I screw up, I can say goodbye to this job. And there’s more at stake than just that. If I lose my job, missing Sharon’s big moment will be for nothing.
The pressure’s on, Mindy.
You must make it worthwhile.
So, that is what I do. I settle into my office and get to work. After going through my presentation in my head one last time, I’m fairly confident that I can win Mr. and Mrs. Thompson’s trust. Maybe Christine will even start to value my hard work. If I ace this, then maybe, just maybe, I’ll finally have a stable job. At least for now.
As the day goes by and the clock ticks closer to the appointed time, I head to the restroom to make sure I look presentable. I fix my makeup and smooth out the wrinkles on my shirt that formed from sitting at my desk all day. Taking one last look at my reflection in the mirror, I give myself a little pep talk before finally heading to the boardroom to meet the company owners.
You can do this, girl.
Rock their socks off and make this worthwhile.
For Sharon.
Once I’m feeling composed and collected, I exit the bathroom and make my way to the conference room, striding over the polished floor. The flash drive containing my carefully crafted presentation is clutched tightly in my hand.
I glance at the time: I have exactly two minutes and thirty-six seconds before I start.
I enter the boardroom and quietly take a seat at the back, patiently waiting for my turn. By the time my name is called and I move to the front, I'm battling a surge of anxiety. Every key decision-maker in the company is present. Christine sits in the front row, her eyes sharp and assessing. To her right is Albert; to her left are Mr. and Mrs. Thompson, the owners of the company, who watch me with an air of regal detachment. They’re a middle-aged couple, embodying polished corporate professionalism. Mr. Thompson, with salt-and-pepper hair and a crisp navy suit, radiates quiet authority, while Mrs. Thompson, elegant in a tailored charcoal dress, her blonde hair pulled back in a sleek chignon, regards me with cool, appraising eyes.
I swallow hard, trying to quell my nerves. I connect my laptop to the projector, inserting the pen drive into the USB slot with a confidence I don’t quite feel. Then, I flash my widest smile, the one I’ve perfected for moments like these.
"Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen," I begin, my voice ringing out clear and strong. "Thank you all for being here today. I’d like to extend a special welcome to Mr. and Mrs. Thompson, our esteemed owners, who came all the way from London to meet with us. It is a pleasure to have you here."
I pause, feeling the energy of the room shift ever so slightly in my favor.
"Today, I will be presenting an overview of our current financial standing, highlighting key metrics, recent trends, and projections for the foreseeable future. Our goal is to ensure we have a clear understanding of our financial health and to identify opportunities for growth and improvement."
So far, so good, Mindy.
I take a deep breath, my mind already thinking about the graphs I’ve so carefully crafted.
"I’d like to begin with a review of our recent financial performance, followed by an analysis of our expenses and revenue streams. After that, I’ll present our financial forecasts and strategic recommendations. Finally, we’ll open the floor for any questions or discussions."
I scan the room, making eye contact with the owners and the Solomons.
"Before I dive into the details, I’d like to point out that your insights and feedback are invaluable. Please feel free to jot down any questions or thoughts you have so that we can address them during the Q it’s all crumbling around me like a house of cards. I’m gone, fleeing from the wreckage of my own making.
The elevator doors slide open, and I throw myself inside, frantically jabbing the ground floor button. As the doors close, cutting off the jumble of sounds behind me, I sag against the wall, my legs finally giving out. I slide to the floor, hugging my knees to my chest, as I let out a strangled sob.
The USB drive that is still clutched in my hand feels like it’s burning my skin. A small, innocuous object that just destroyed my career and the life I’ve worked so hard to build. As the elevator descends, taking me away from the scene of my professional suicide, one single thought repeats in my head.
What in the everloving fuck am I going to do now?