Chapter Ten
Inevitable
The next few weeks drew a balance of good and bad in Giselle’s life.
For the positive aspects, the cast had been removed and she now wore a walking boot.
The thing felt cumbersome, and walking took some adjustments until she got used to the device.
However, not having to wield crutches or ride wheelchairs provided a welcome upgrade.
Her tasks at home and at work grew easier.
Not relying so much on others also brought a level of satisfaction.
Her relationship with Tony also strengthened.
Having more free time after the soccer season ended, the young couple took advantage to enjoy each other’s company in and out of bed.
Dates during the week and weekend trips became the norm.
Giselle felt thrilled having a new friend and lover to confide in.
Both had endured pains in life—hers at work and his at home—but together, they found comfort and assurance to remain hopeful while working hard to make things better.
For the negative aspects, Giselle’s relationship with her boss at the auto dealership worsened.
Nigel’s attacks grew more personal. He blamed her injury for a lack of production in the customer service department.
He made false accusations of irritated car buyers complaining to him about their treatment when signing paperwork in her office. The badgering and bullying continued.
Due to her injury, she had some follow-up visits with the doctor during the work day.
Using proper office protocol to take leave, she had to arrive late for work or depart early to attend the appointments.
In an uproar, Nigel threatened to fire Giselle for neglecting her duties through absence and causing auto sales to decline.
Giselle clenched her jaw and trudged on.
She didn’t have the means or willpower to find another job right now.
Despite her inexperience and youth, she had gotten lucky earning this position at the dealership.
The work paid fairly well, and she used the extra income as an excuse to stick around.
She also desired to focus on healing her body and not add additional stress by quitting.
From personal experience, several weeks or even months would pass until another source of income presented.
She just didn’t have the foundation to place herself in that situation.
Unfortunately, keeping her head down failed to avert the expected.
On a Tuesday morning, she started her morning routine at the office and sensed something different.
The other employees glanced at her from around the lobby or in the breakroom, their faces worried and full of silent empathy.
Whispers sounded from around corners and side offices, the conversations hushed and abruptly halted when Giselle walked close.
“Ralph…do I need to ask?” she mumbled, stepping into his office right before lunch.
He didn’t say anything at first. Ralph gazed at her wearing the same concerned expression the other employees had.
He then wrapped his arms around Giselle, his hold firm and emanating comfort.
“If you don’t ask, I won’t answer, sweetheart.
But the rumors have been flying all morning.
Nigel has this stupid, smug look on his face.
He’s also been quiet in his office. Based on past experience, when Nigel is like this he’s about to—”
“Fire someone,” Giselle finished. “Me. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. It’s been building up for weeks.”
I suppose this had been coming. But damn, it still hurts. That pig butt gets the last laugh? Losing a job is tough, but imagining that jerk’s face as he wins is the worst sensation of all.
Ralph pulled back from the embrace and held her hands. “Hey, listen,” he said softly. “Have you been saving all the nasty emails and documents he sent you on a separate thumb drive?”
She nodded. “Just like you advised me. The USB is safe and sound in my purse.”
“Excellent. The second he lets you go, he’ll order IT to delete everything. And I mean everything. Shared drive, desktop folders, cloud files, you name it. That’s Nigel’s way of covering his tracks and wiping your existence from company record.”
“What should I do with the data, Ralph?” She closed her eyes, fighting back the sting of tears. She suddenly felt dizzy and sick to her stomach.
Ralph read her distressed features, and his reassuring hands settled on her shoulders. “That data will be ammunition for a lawyer. Because of your injury, I see wrongful termination written all over this situation. Do you know anyone that can help?”
“No,” she said, her voice glum as she looked at the floor. “I don’t even know where—”
Something Janice said popped into her head: You were offsides, bitch. My mom is a lawyer, and evidence is everything. Your case against the line judge just imploded.
Giselle brightened the tiniest bit. That’s right. Janice’s mother studied law. Maybe I can ask for advice.
“I may know someone,” she stated, then threw herself into Ralph’s arms. “Thank you so much, my dear friend. I wouldn’t know what to do without you.”
He gave her a supportive squeeze. “Like I said before, Giselle, I got your back. When you take that fool to court, I’m your star witness.”
Encouraged, she returned to her office and sat behind the desk. A dreaded email awaited, a cutting message that teased and caused her fists to clench: My office. Now.
Those haunting words represented Nigel’s entire draft.
No other comments, instructions, or warnings accompanied the curt note.
Taking a deep breath to calm her nerves, Giselle converted the email into a PDF and saved it on the thumb drive.
She didn’t bother writing a reply. In five minutes, I won’t be an employee anyway.
She stood and smoothed out her clothes, more from anxiety than trying to appear presentable.
Despite the foreknowledge of her termination, the act and circumstances pierced her heart and tore her soul.
She didn’t deserve this. A tyrant had won the day.
Giselle closed her eyes and took several more calming breaths.
I won’t run away and simply look for another job. I’m going to fight this and put Nigel in his place. Like the saying goes, I’ll have my day in court.
Not liking the sweat on her palms or the butterflies rioting in her belly, she swallowed and marched toward Nigel’s office on the opposite end of the showroom floor.
Her shoe sounded loud on the hard floor, the ankle-boot a muffled thump.
She passed shiny models of the latest, high-end sedans, SUVs, and trucks.
Giselle also strode past grim-faced employees.
Some glanced down while others offered an encouraging or supportive nod.
She entered Nigel’s spacious office. Dusty, fake plants sat crammed in corners.
Dealership awards for sales metrics and other company honors hung on the wood-slatted wall behind an oversized desk.
Plush furniture and a coffee table rested on a colorful rug.
Giselle started to close the door, but Nigel barked from his leather chair.
“Leave it open.”
Giselle’s eyes widened. Oh, hell no. The stinking dung pile wants everyone to hear this, even customers in the showroom. I will not give him that pleasure! She closed the door and watched his face redden in anger.
Wait. All the blinds are open, too. Nigel planned this to be a show.
He wants to further humiliate me. Giselle took her time closing the blinds over the huge glass panels facing the main lobby.
She heard Nigel sputtering from the desk, his rage preventing coherent words from forming.
With privacy now established, she walked before him and smiled through her own frustration.
I’ve got to hold it together. Don’t let him control the situation. Make it quick.
“The nerve!” Nigel finally spat. “This is my office. I—”
“Did you have something to say?” she cut in.
Nigel took several calming breaths, and Giselle felt immense relief and satisfaction. She had just gone through the same meditative exercise before coming here. Glad to see I’m not the only one whose emotions are in a twist.
“I have plenty to say,” he began, “and you’ll do the listening.” He pierced her beneath a harsh glare, but Giselle refused to look away. After a moment, he launched into an obvious practiced speech.
“Since being hired, your record here has been poor, Giselle.”
She bit her tongue—arguing would do no good. False reports with the intention of firing me.
“Your work ethic has suffered over the past few months.”
Zero complaints from customers. The other staff even nominated me for employee of the month.
“You are consistently late.”
I’m temporarily disabled.
“Your attitude is insufferable.”
Everyone here likes me. The customers have provided good reviews on my character.
“You’ve been using our restroom like it’s a smelly locker room to change into your soccer gear.”
I do that after hours, and I always clean up after myself.
“I run a professional organization,” Nigel continued. “As a result of your sports endeavors—outside of work—you suffered a broken ankle and used that as an excuse for your poor-quality performance in the office. You’ve also missed an excessive amount of work time.
I sent you my appointment schedule and used approved sick leave.
Ralph’s warning—but a blessing—came to mind. Wrongful termination due to injury. Keep talking, Nigel. See how deep you can dig this hole you created.
The smug look never left his face. “I have a stack of memorandums documenting your consistent lack of responsibility, uncaring attitude, and inadequate performance.”
More falsified statements. My good record—and witnesses—will speak for themselves.
Nigel set his elbows on the desk, fingertips touching as he gazed over them like a mob boss. A smile tugged his lips. He seemed on the verge of exploding in glee while preparing for the grand finale. “Therefore, I have no choice but to fi—”
“Fries!” Giselle shouted before he could finish.
Nigel blinked in surprise, his face turning red again. “Wh-what?”
“Fries,” she repeated. “It’s what I want for lunch. Smothered in ketchup.” Giselle turned her back and hurried toward the door.
“Get back here!” Nigel called out, the fury in his voice evident after being denied his storybook ending.
Giselle closed the door behind her, knowing he wouldn’t give chase. He’s too pompous for that. Nigel would look weak in front of everyone scuttling after me like a dog. He’s got to be fuming right now!
“Go, Giselle,” Ralph said as he approached.
“That creep sent a company-wide email right before you stepped into his office. He announced your termination to everyone before it was even official. I’ll box your things up for you.
Don’t worry about anything, sweetheart. Just go home. Will you be okay?”
Giselle waved a dismissive hand, blew a raspberry, then embraced Ralph. “Yeah, I’ll be fine. And thank you again for everything. We’ll talk again soon.”
“You bet,” Ralph said, apprehension creasing his brow as he gazed at her.
Giselle turned away, her emotions a simmering pot she battled to keep the lid on. Walking toward the glass doors, she struggled to keep the hurry out of her step as the boot created an awkward shuffle.
She made it outdoors and into the parking lot. Her vehicle awaited in the front handicap zone, her red, temporary placard having been a lifesaver over the weeks. Giselle climbed behind the wheel and drove off.
Once out of sight, the simmering pot boiled over and the lid blew off.
She quickly pulled over along the curb as a somber cry burst from her throat.
Sobs heaved her chest, a pain burrowed deep and pulsing around her aching heart.
Tears fell and streamed down her face. Frustration, helplessness, and humiliation drove her palms against the steering wheel in an agitated thump.
She sat wounded, a vulnerable little girl lost on the side of the road.
Giselle may have played it off in front of Ralph and tried to look cool as she walked out, but it had all been a farce.
Her true feelings welled and spilled forth—a cascade of raw, hidden emotion that accumulated for months under Nigel.
She had acted tough in front of her ex-boss, but her poise during the firing had also been a sham.
He had already informed everyone of her release, the summoning to his office just part of the show for added shame.
Giselle’s confident mask now slipped with her tears. Each drop cast further doubt on her situation, shattered hope, and amplified fear over her future.