Chapter Thirty-Five
Mei peered up from her laptop and smiled at the “Livin the Good Life” graffiti mural spanning an entire wall. Now that she was about to meet Erika and give her notice, Mei was starting to view her time at Livin through a rosy hue.
Outside the Amsterdam conference room, Mei took a deep breath.
She mentally rehearsed the resignation speech she’d prepared.
She opened the door, then blinked in surprise.
Erika was seated at the table, looking pristine as usual, in a burgundy silk blouse.
James sat beside her in his typical white shirt and blue slacks, his face scrunched up in distaste at the floor-to-ceiling windmill and potted tulips.
“Hi, Erika. Good to see you, James.” Mei forced a smile. She hadn’t met with James in months. Why hadn’t Erika told her he was joining their one-on-one?
“You’re probably wondering why James is here,” Erika said. “What we’re about to tell you is confidential. It’s about the future of Livin.”
Mei’s eyes widened. What was this all about?
“We’ve decided to let you and a select few of your colleagues in on these plans,” James said. “With our IPO timing more concrete—”
“—in September,” Erika supplied.
“Our financials will be subject to tight scrutiny,” James said. “Right now, we’re too heavy on human capital. Investors know that people don’t scale. Technology does. We need to rightsize our workforce and replace manpower with tech-forward solutions.”
Mei’s mouth went dry. “Layoffs.”
“Next week,” James confirmed.
“How many people?”
“It’ll vary by department, but we’re cutting marketing by thirty percent,” Erika said.
Mei did the math. “Forty-five marketers.” Forty-five of her friends and teammates. “And how many overall?”
“Three thousand.”
Mei narrowed her eyes. “That’s why we’re doing sprints this week. So you can wring the most out of people before firing them.”
“Productivity takes a hit after layoffs.” James shrugged. “We need to set ourselves up for success.”
“Sprint Week is going so well, though!” Erika said. “We should keep doing them after the layoffs.”
Mei glared at her. “Who’s getting laid off from my team?”
James consulted his laptop. “The two guys in New York—Bryce and Kaden.”
“Kaden uses they/them pronouns,” Mei shot back.
“From your regional reports, Yiwen from APAC, Anne-Marie from EMEA, and Xochitl from LATAM.”
“That’s half my team!” At least Bryce was job hunting. Hopefully everyone else was, too. “How do you expect me to run campaigns without brand managers and strategists?”
“Generative AI has really improved!” Erika said. “The board would love to see us use it to streamline costs.”
“Yeah, AI can spit out content and strategies, but you still need real people to make sure they’re on-brand, high-quality, and accurate!”
James scowled at Erika. “I knew this was a mistake,” he grumbled.
“What’s a mistake?” Mei asked.
“Keeping you. I was in favor of cutting you, based on your tepid performance last fall. But Erika insisted.”
“Mei, you’re one of our biggest talents,” Erika said. “We need you to make sure the Livin brand stays consistently amazing through the layoffs and automation. It’ll be a challenge, for sure, but I know you’re up for it. If anyone can do it, it’s you.”
Mei hated herself for perking up at the praise.
“This is your chance to step into a real leadership role and shape the future of Livin. Not to mention our team culture.” She shot James a look to jump in.
“We’re also planning to reward people who stay, if all goes well,” he said.
Mei’s heart pounded with dread. “How?”
“Raises. Bonuses. Additional options.”
“How much are we talking about?”
“Let’s just say that you’ll actually know what it’s like to be a rich girl.”
Mei didn’t even react to James’s snide remark. She was too focused on the dollar signs flashing before her. She saw her bank account balance skyrocket with tens, then hundreds of thousands of dollars, replenishing the hard-earned savings she’d lost last fall.
“We’ll also do promotions,” Erika added. “You’ll be our VP of brand marketing.”
“What will you be?” Mei asked.
Erika smoothed her hair. “Senior VP of marketing.”
“In a month or two, after the dust settles,” James said. “We need investors to think we’re saving money.”
Mei’s mind whirred. Livin was a much-larger, higher-valued company than Pure would ever be.
After her promotion, her salary would be substantially higher than anything Pure could offer.
She’d get another major windfall from all her options after the IPO, and now she knew when it would be. September. Seven months away.
Still, those months would be brutal. Mei had survived layoffs at previous jobs, and the aftermath was always chaotic. Morale plummeted. Her workload increased exponentially because she had fewer teammates. Many employees who didn’t get laid off ended up leaving anyway.
“What would happen if I didn’t want to be part of this?” Mei asked hesitantly.
“Then you’d just leave,” James said. “Since we weren’t planning to fire you, you wouldn’t get a severance package.” He fixed her with a pointed look. “Is that what you want?”
“No! I was just wondering!”
“Mei, I hope you see the extraordinary opportunity we’re giving you,” Erika said. “We were even thinking”—she glanced at James, who nodded—“that you could join us onstage at Livin Forum to show off your latest campaign with the new inclusive imagery.”
Mei’s breath caught. Livin Forum was the company’s annual strategy meeting.
It was like Livinpalooza, except it was actually work-related.
Every employee from around the world, and many investors and board members, flew in for a week of talks, events, and team-building activities.
This year’s Livin Forum was in Los Angeles at the end of the month.
Mei grew starry-eyed as she imagined herself onstage in front of twelve thousand people.
Well, nine thousand, after the layoffs.
Erika was right. This was an amazing opportunity.
She would be VP of brand marketing at the world’s hottest unicorn.
She could lead the marketing team through the layoffs, then rebuild with a stronger, healthier, more inclusive culture.
She didn’t love the idea of replacing people with AI, but there were, admittedly, some tasks she wouldn’t mind automating, like repurposing a keynote script as a blog post.
And after all the systems were in place, she’d get a massive payday from the IPO.
She’d never have to worry about money again.
Pure was so dinky in comparison. Why on earth had she wanted to work there?
Mei’s heart clenched. Alexandre. Their pact. He’d actually leapt in the air last night when she said she was quitting.
And it wasn’t just him. She’d told Ali and Luc she was leaving, too. They were taking her out to lunch on Sunday to celebrate her new job—and for her and Alexandre to tell them about their relationship.
Everyone will still be proud of me, Mei told herself. I’ll explain everything.
She lifted her chin. “Thanks for bringing me in on the plan. I’m happy to partner with you on anything you need.”
James cracked a smile.
Erika’s eyes gleamed. “Perfect. We have loads to do. I’m blocking the next hour for us.”
· · ·
Mei emerged from the Amsterdam room, her brain teeming with details. The layoffs were next Wednesday. On Valentine’s Day. Bile had risen to Mei’s mouth when Erika told her, with a little cackle, that the execs had dubbed the layoffs “Operation My Bloody Valentine.”
Back in the common room, the final events of Sprint Week were about to begin. The marketing team was going to sprint from five to six, break for dinner, do a final sprint from seven to eight, then celebrate.
Buoyant dance music pounded through the speakers. People filled tumblers with beer. The air crackled with excitement, even though everyone was spending Friday night working.
Mei poured herself a beer from the tap. Normally, she tried not to drink at Livin events, but today called for an alcoholic beverage.
She checked her phone. Alexandre had texted an hour ago.
Just boarded! Should be landing around seven. I have the wildest story to tell you tomorrow. Talk about a crazy end to the conference.
But more importantly: How did it feel to quit?
Mei inhaled through her nose. There was no way she could tell Alexandre her news over text. At least it sounded like he had something big to share, too. Mei typed back:
I’ll tell you everything tomorrow!
His reply came a moment later.
Can’t wait to hear! I’m so proud of you, Mei. We’re doing it. YOU DID IT!
Mei shoved her phone into her pocket. She made her way through the tables of marketers until she found her team. Kaden, Bryce, and Tamiko were chatting with the good-natured air of people who’d resigned themselves to Sprint Week but would rather be elsewhere.
Mei took a seat beside them, swallowing her guilt about the impending layoffs. “Ready to wrap this up?”
Tamiko groaned. “Beyond ready.”
“Are these Sprint Weeks going to be a regular thing?” Kaden asked.
“I think so,” Mei said.
Her team rolled their eyes.
“Attention, marketers!” Erika called into a mic. “Are you ready to sprint?”
For the next hour, Mei forced herself to work.
During the dinner break, Kaden turned to Mei. “So much for leaving early on Fridays.”
Mei paused, her samosa burger halfway to her mouth. “What do you mean?”
“Remember a few weeks ago, you said we should all leave at six on Fridays? And we did?”
Mei nodded. Uneasiness seeped through her.
“We never did that again, and it looks like we’ll have fewer chances to, with these Sprint Weeks.”
Mei ran through the last few weeks in her head. She’d been out last Friday for job interviews. The week before was Evie’s dance performance, so she’d stayed late until it began. She should have set a better example for her team.
“I’m sorry,” Mei said.