Chapter Thirty-Three
kate
It’s another early morning in the office as I head to meet my boss, Frank.
The floor is practically empty of people.
The only sounds are my heels clacking against the tile, combined with the hum of the air conditioner.
Once again, Frank has provided zero context about what he wants to meet for, only having his assistant add a meeting to my calendar for this morning, hoping I would notice the last-minute invitation.
Of course, I noticed. So did my anxiety.
We’re at DEFCON Level Two, internally freaking out that I’ve done something wrong while externally pretending everything is fine.
I’m sure trending on social media over the weekend hasn’t helped.
Although I promised not to look at any of that bullshit, it didn’t stop my friends from sending me screenshots of some of the horrific things being said about me.
Or the countless other women the internet would rather see Jake date.
The consensus is: he needs someone taller, skinnier, and blonder on his arm. Basically, anyone who isn’t me.
Here’s hoping a shitty weekend doesn’t turn into an even shittier Monday.
“Good morning, Kate. Take a seat anywhere,” Frank says calmly when I enter the conference room.
At least he’s alone—that’s a good start.
As usual, he’s dressed like we’re in the era of Mad Men, and a three-piece suit is required attire for the workday.
“I’m glad we could have this conversation in person rather than virtually.
I always find face-to-face works better, but your generation tends to prefer staying behind the computer screen, for some reason. ”
I stay silent, knowing it’s not worth the energy to explain that virtual meetings are as effective as in-person ones. “What would you like to discuss?” I ask, opening my notebook and preparing to write down notes for whatever new project he’s about to drop on my lap.
He presses his lips together tightly as his face takes on an even more serious expression than normal.
Shit. This can’t be good.
“I’ll cut to the chase. We lost out on a major new client last week because of you,” he says matter-of-factly, making direct eye contact with me.
Control your face. Control your face.
“I’m sorry to hear that. Did something happen with one of my clients that I’m not aware of?” I ask, completely befuddled about how any of this involves me.
“Yes, but we’ll get to that in a minute. The prospective client I’m speaking about chose to go with another agency after learning you have a brand partnership with one of their biggest competitors.”
Double shit. This is exactly what I was afraid could happen. It’s why I was insistent on getting the agency’s sign-off before agreeing to any of them.
“I’m confused. I’ve checked with legal and you on every brand partnership I’ve considered. I only moved forward on the ones you approved,” I say calmly, reminding him how I followed the rules while my nails dig into my palms under the table.
“Business moves fast. This prospective client came to us at the last minute with hopes of working with us. It would’ve been a huge win for the agency, but they pumped the brakes when they saw one of your recent social posts collaborating with their competitor.
” His eyes remain focused on me while his tone is devoid of any emotion except annoyance.
He doesn’t want to be having this conversation any more than I do.
“But I wouldn’t likely be working on their account if I wasn’t involved in the initial pitch. And the brand I partnered with isn’t a current client of ours, so I don’t understand why they are uncomfortable moving forward.”
“Doesn’t matter. We lost the deal. If that were the only issue related to your current life choices, I’d probably ignore it or discuss a more thorough vetting process for any future brand deals you want to pursue,” he replies, furrowing his brow and clenching his jaw.
What does he mean by “only issue?” Panic rises inside me as I run through everything that’s happened in the last two weeks at work, trying to figure out what he could be referencing.
“If the agency prefers I stop doing brand partnerships, then I’m one hundred percent comfortable with finishing up my current agreements and not taking on any new ones. ”
I leave out the part about how I wasn’t necessarily on board with doing them in the first place until he suggested it could actually help the company and actively encouraged it. I guess this is what being a team player gets you.
He flicks his hand in the air, indicating my suggestion is ludicrous. “That won’t be necessary. You just need to focus more on the ones that will better help us the most.”
Sure, because that’s extremely easy to figure out, seeing that I had no idea the most recent one would turn out like this. “I’ll do my best and continue to coordinate with the team.” I force myself to smile, even though I really want to scream.
He clasps his hands together and scoots his chair closer so he’s leaning his elbows on the mahogany conference table. “There’s also the matter of the unacceptable project delays your team is experiencing. When the CMO of one of our top clients emails me personally, I know something is wrong.”
His words are like an “I told you so” from my anxiety to my brain, proving the growing nervousness I had after receiving his meeting invite was justified.
I dig my nails deeper into my hands, confident I’ll have divots in my palms afterward.
Trying to do anything to cull the overwhelming need to apologize when I don’t necessarily know what I’ve done wrong yet.
“You know Sarah has extraordinarily high standards and has always sung your praises. However, she has noticed a decline in your timeliness in responding to requests. The recent delay in getting our mockups for their next campaign did not help.”
“I—”
“No need to explain. I assured Sarah it won’t happen again,” he says assertively, then leans in his chair with his arms now behind his head.
“I expect you to go back to being an exceptional performer, Kate. There’s a reason why you’re the youngest VP in agency history.
Just because you have things going on in your personal life doesn’t mean you can neglect your responsibilities. ”
I nod, looking at the table, unsure what else to say. Although I didn’t realize it, I’ve clearly dropped the ball from at least one client’s perspective, which is one too many.
“Given the recent unflattering social media chatter, the board has decided to sideline you from getting any promotions for the remainder of the year and potentially next year. We don’t believe it’s the right time to elevate your status further until things have calmed down a bit in your personal life. ”
“Oh, okay,” I reply, struggling to hold back the tears that are starting to form in the corners of my eyes.
“You’re one of our top performers, Kate. I’m confident you’ll continue to be a shining star for us for years to come. We’ll just have to navigate this tricky time,” he adds, getting up from his chair, giving me a nod, then exiting the room.
Leaving me alone with my thoughts.
Fuck.
I lean my head against the chair, closing my eyes as I focus on my breathing, wanting to maintain control of my emotions so I don’t doom-spiral. This feels like a major career setback, even though I wasn’t necessarily chasing a promotion.
And it has nothing to do with my performance. Sure, Sarah had a complaint, but that’s par for the course with our top clients sometimes. They like to push back whenever they are told no, or when they’ve delayed the process significantly and expect you to move mountains to keep them on schedule.
This is all because of who I’m dating. And the impact the positive and negative exposure has on both me and the agency.
It only leaves me with one option. To double down on my work in an effort to show my boss and team how committed I am to being the best at what I do. Which means skipping out on touring with Jake for at least the next couple of weekends until things calm down.
Maybe disappearing from public view will make the haters leave me alone. A reprieve from being mocked online would do wonders for my emotional well-being.
As I get up from my chair, I shake my head, remembering Sophia’s advice about the importance of traveling with Jake every weekend until our relationship is more settled.
And now I’m flat out ignoring it. My brain flashes a warning sign, urging me to tread carefully, while my heart is confident it’s unnecessary.
Not being on the road with Jake doesn’t change anything. Everything will be fine.