Snowed In at the Cabin

1. Alexandra

Alexandra

Approximately two minutes after the worst interview I’ve ever experienced, my palms are practically dripping with sweat.

I’m freaking out. My boss, Bill Murphy, and his right hand, Dan Balding haven’t stopped staring at the papers in front of them.

The ones that say whether or not they believe I’m the right candidate for the coveted position I’ve applied for.

Shit. It doesn’t feel like the fourth time in two years is the charm.

“Alexandra, off the record, of course. What do you hope to accomplish by moving up within Johnson Enterprise? Do you not enjoy the work you do as a secretary?” Dan scratches his fingers through the patchy beard he’s been trying to grow for the last three months.

The hair still hasn’t filled in on his cheeks and part of his chin, and it makes him look like a balding cat.

I wipe my hands on my pants again and slide them both a copy of my design mock-up for a made-up brand we could work with.

“I have fresh ideas and would like to utilize my design capabilities within this new role as the associate designer. I believe I could take our designs to the next level and increase our client workload by over thirty percent.” I slide another design along with demographics to them.

“I constantly watch trends to keep up with the market and hone my skills. I’m eager to learn more and help the company. ”

I started here fresh out of high school and worked my way through college while learning every nook and cranny of Johnson Enterprise.

Years of sleepless nights, early mornings, and weekends packed with studying for my art and design degree while working my butt off have apparently amounted to nothing.

Mom always said if I was going to go for a useless degree like art I had to pay for it myself, which made me that much more determined to prove her wrong.

After I finished my degree three years ago, I enrolled in marketing courses in the evenings.

I’m determined to make my way in this corporate world.

This is the fourth promotion I’ve interviewed for in the last two years, but they keep finding reasons to keep me in my place.

This company is starting to feel like a dead end, and if they won’t see my worth, I’ll have to claw myself out.

Bill slides the designs to his stack without a second glance.

“We love your ambition, but at this time you just don’t have enough experience.

I would like to see you take on additional tasks within the company while keeping up with your current work-load, to show you’re serious about moving up.

” He sighs and sets his hands on his protruding stomach, his mouth turning up in a small smile.

“We just feel that our other option is a better fit. Maybe you could get the next opening or possibly the one a few years out to give you more time to grow your skills.”

Dan smirks, and I stifle the urge to scream. I already take on work in multiple departments and stay later than anyone else every night to make sure the next day runs smoothly. They know this. They sign my time cards.

I bite my cheek. “Can I just ask…is Clay the other candidate?” I grab my notebook and slide the chair back.

Bill clears his throat. “Again, off the record.” I incline my head, so he will continue.

“Yes. He’s proven to be more than capable with the delegation of tasks and making it a point to come to gatherings outside of work hours.

” My face feels like it’s on fire. Clay has only been here for six months and has no design background, but he does go out every night with Dan and Bill to the bar to mingle and hit on chicks, or so I’m told every morning when he rolls in late sporting a large black coffee and wearing his sunglasses.

I’m about to stand and walk out like the good employee I am, but I can’t help myself.

I’m so fed up with being passed over again and again that my anger gets the best of me, letting my mouth fly freely.

“If you don’t mind, what qualifications does Clay have over me?

I feel like I’ve more than proven myself in the eight years I’ve been here, putting in endless hours and taking on a multitude of work in various departments.

” I hold my composure as I scream in triumph inside for finally saying something.

Bill chuckles. “No offense, honey , but we just don’t see the leadership capabilities that are required for this position.

Take a look at Clay. He’s able to delegate more of his work to others to free up more time for useful things like working lunches with Dan and me at The Grill.

Taking the time to sit with higher–ups and shmooze them really helps a guy stand out, you know.

He’s a big team player by not trying to tackle it all on his own, which allows him to finish work early.

Delegating shows he can take on a larger workload without staying late or pushing the need for another employee. He saves us money this way, you see?”

Dan is feeding off this bro energy and jumps in. “You’re so right, Bill. I mean, at the end of the day, the work still gets done, so who cares who actually does it? You have the same opportunities Clay does, so really, it’s your own choice to stay late and shoulder everything alone.”

I nod, but I can’t stand this anymore. Are they serious?

Because I get more work done, I’m the problem?

I help the departments that Clay dumps his work on, so it does get done on time and the customers don’t suffer, but he’s the one rewarded.

“Thank you for your time today, but given this new information, I quit. I’ll email my formal letter on Monday. ”

I push through the doors and make my way to my desk and rip my purse from the file drawer. I start to throw the photos of me and my sister into my bag along with my favorite pens and notepad.

Austin jumps up from his cubicle next to mine. “Hey, what’s going on?”

“I quit.” I throw my pink Bluetooth keyboard and mouse in my overflowing purse before I hike it over my shoulder.

“Damn! I’m proud of you, babes. I wish I could quit. What are you going to do now?” He drums his painted fingernails on the edge of the cubical. We chat every day about life and the endless bullshit this place throws at us, so honestly, it’s no surprise to him.

“I have no idea yet. I’ll let you know where I land, so you can ditch out too.” I start walking backwards. I can’t be here anymore.

Austin gives me a salute. “Deal. Stay brave. I expect to hear from you in a month at the latest.”

“God, I hope it doesn’t take that long. Talk soon.” I wave and rush to the elevator.

My heart is pounding so loud I can barely make out Bill calling my name from the meeting room.

I don’t stop. I just power through, I don’t want to be guilted into staying, or second guess my choices.

I need air and away from Johnson Enterprise.

My meeting was set for the end of the day, so I told Taylor, my boyfriend of three months, that I didn’t know how long it would be and planned to get drinks with my best friends Ashlyn and Jaz after.

But after this shit-show, I just want to go home and be in my sweatpants.

Maybe I can get Taylor to give me that massage he promised.

That would be nice .

As long as he’s not too busy working. He also works at a marketing firm, but he just started when we got together.

We met at a convention. He was trying to land a new job after finishing his degree, and I was there to hand out fliers for Johnson Enterprise.

We bonded over the fact that we were both workaholics and wanted to move up in the business.

It works in our relationship because we don’t get mad when we have to work late, or if I’m too exhausted to go out, especially after grinding for the last eight years of my life.

I send a text to the group chat with my friends.

Alexandra: Well, it was shit, and I decided to freak out and quit! Full panic mode now, so tonight will have to be rescheduled. Love you!

Ashlyn: They never deserved you! But I require deets soon!

Jaz: Their loss! Tomorrow? Class got canceled. Teacher has some vacation or something?

Ashlyn: I’m down!

Alexandra: … Fine. Bring donuts.

Jaz: YES! Done 3

I open the dreaded thread to my mom and send her a quick text to let her know I didn’t get the promotion.

Again. I set my phone to silent. I know she will be disappointed and blow up my phone about new exciting men she wants to set me up with.

She doesn’t get that I’m not looking for a handout husband. I like working for what I have.

The drive home is a blur, my mind is white noise on max volume.

I pull into my parking spot at my apartment complex, not really sure how I made it here in one piece, but choosing to ignore it.

I grab my overflowing purse and fling my car door open, ready to be done with today.

I slam my door a little too aggressively and run through the main door of the building with the white noise in my head still taking over my senses.

But as I swing into the lobby, my body bounces off a hard chest. I stumble, drop my purse to save myself from falling on my ass, and watch in slow motion as its contents scatter in every direction like marbles bouncing off a polished floor.

Great. Just great.

My face feels like it’s on fire. “Sorry,” I mumble without looking up. I bend down to grab my stuff and toss everything back into my bag as fast as I can. The quicker I can get inside to hide, the better.

“No worries. I’m often in my own mind. I’ll help,” he says.

Ugh I know that voice. Fucking Clay.

Kill me now. “It’s okay, really. I can get it.” I’m going to crawl in a hole and die. I do not need his smug face anywhere near me today.

Clay’s laugh is like nails on a chalkboard. “I’ve seen you in various positions living in the same building for the last two years, remember?”

I snatch the last of my tampons and throw them in the bag.

“Don’t remind me.” He starts to talk again, but I jump up and skip three stairs at a time to get the hell away from him.

He walked up on me and the girls at the apartment pool last summer and hasn’t stopped talking about our bodies since. Such a child.

I make it up the thirty-two steps to my apartment–yes, I’ve counted–because there’s no elevator and it sucks. Digging through my purse, I finally find my keys buried under everything else. I sigh. Finally I can just relax. I open my door and hear a scream, making me jump.

“Yes! Yes! Right there, TayTay!” A slap follows, and the woman screams again.

I’m in shock. What the actual fuck is happening and why today? I march down the hallway to the living room, my keys still in my hand as I take in the trail of clothes on the floor and the sound of bodies slapping together.

Maybe it’s porn on the TV. Who knows? Right, and the clothes just came out of the screen. Idiot.

I see the blonde hair cascading down the side of my couch first. Taylor grunts as he slams into her from behind. “You like that, baby?”

Great. As if my day could get any worse. What a dick. You’d think three months together would at least mean he could dump me before screwing someone else. Or at least do it in his own shitty apartment.

I drop my purse loudly on the floor and start clapping. “Yes, baby. I love it so much.”

He pulls out and grabs his dick. Like I haven’t seen it before. “Shit. What are you doing here?”

“I live here. I pay the rent.” I roll my eyes and scream, “GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY APARTMENT!” Jesus fucking Christ.

“What does she mean her apartment?” The blonde is slowly putting her clothes on like she didn’t just ruin my already shitty day.

“Nothing. Look, I thought you were going out tonight?” Taylor is still standing in the middle of my living room holding himself, not moving to get his clothes.

Does he think I’m going to let him finish?

“This doesn’t mean anything. I just had a rough day and needed a release.

We can talk about this. Don’t be hostile. ”

I whip his shitty underwear and pants at him. “Get. The. Fuck. Out.” I’m fuming. My vision is blacking out on the edges .

“Seriously?” His mouth turns up in a sneer as he puts his pants on.

I go to the door and start chucking their remaining clothes and shoes into the hallway.

The blonde starts screaming. “Those shoes are worth more than your apartment, you bitch! It’s freezing out there!”

I feel my mouth turn up in a smile, but my emotions are turned off at this point. I can’t deal with this shit. “Dead serious,” I say to Taylor as I snatch the key I gave him off the counter and slide it into my pocket.

I ignore the blonde bimbo. She can figure it out herself. Shouldn’t fuck a guy in another girl’s apartment in early winter.

Taylor grabs the blonde’s hand, pulling her to the hall to get their clothes off the floor. “I don’t know why you’re acting like this. I have needs and you’ve been too busy…”

“We both work the same grueling hours, or at least I thought we did.” I sneer at him, “Forget I exist.” I slam the door in his face, cutting off his garbage excuses. I can’t listen to this shit. I’m going to have to burn my couch. After pulling out my phone, I send a message to the group chat.

Alexandra: Come over. Bring a lighter and two bottles of wine!

Ashlyn: What happened?

Alexandra: Taylor fucked some blonde bitch on my couch, so we have to get rid of it…now!

Ashlyn: Fuck! I’ll be right there!

Jaz: I’ll get the wine!