30. Cracking Some Eggs…
30
Cracking Some Eggs…
Paige
It’s 7:55 a.m. I’m already at the office, but I’m not going up the elevator until 7:59. It’s a small but mighty act of defiance. I’m setting boundaries. Showing Guy that I mean what I say. It might sound stupid, but it’s not something that will go unnoticed. He’ll be irked, but so be it. It’s that thing about how you can’t make an omelet without breaking some eggs. Well, I’ve got an egg poised over the edge of a glass bowl, and I’m about to give it one sharp crack.
“Well, look what the cat dragged in,” Lyle calls from across the lobby. “Paige Chadwick, as I live and breathe.”
I offer him a tight smile while he walks over to me. “Yup, I’m alive. Disappointed?”
“You’ll be surprised to know I’m relieved actually,” he says, pushing the up button.
I glance over at him. “That is a surprise.”
“Guy’s had me doing all of your work on top of mine,” he tells me. “How you haven’t stepped in front of a cab to end it all is beyond me.” Looking me up and down, he says, “You look … different.”
“It’s the real tan.”
“Yes, this is much better than the orange hue you left with, but it’s something else,” he says, waving a hand at me. “Something about the way you’re carrying yourself.”
I lift my chin a little, feeling a sense of pride that he can sense my newfound confidence.
Gasping, he says, “Are you pregnant?”
“No, I’m not pregnant,” I snap.
The elevator doors open and he holds a hand out for me to get on. Checking my watch, I say, “I’ll get the next one.”
He steps on, then holds the door. “Seriously? You’re so upset that you won’t ride the elevator with me? It’s not like I was implying that you’re showing or something.”
“I’m not showing,” I answer, wrinkling up my nose. “Because I’m not pregnant. But I have other reasons for not getting on the elevator and they’ve got nothing to do with you.”
He lifts his eyebrows and makes a face that says he thinks I’m insane. “Okaaayyy, see you up there.”
I check my watch again. 7:59. Shit. The doors are already sliding shut. I reach out and stick my arm between them, only to have them press against it before bouncing open again. I get on and turn to face the front. “Now, it’s time.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Lyle grin. “Oh my God, are you setting boundaries, Chadwick?”
“None of your business,” I say, as the elevator zips up to the thirty-second floor.
“You are! You’re setting boundaries with Mr. Guy Prescott, the Ad King of New York. That’s adorable. ”
I give him a glare and lean toward him a bit and grind out, “It’s not adorable. It’s necessary. And strong.” Okay, Paige, leave it at that. You don’t have to explain yourself to Lyle. Be a woman of few words, who walks tall and carries a big … stick? I can’t remember. Whatever. Be silent. Stoic. “You know why I look different? It’s because I’m not the same pushover I was when I left here. I’m strong now. I survived a freaking plane crash and weeks in the wild. I learned to fish and forage for food and … and I’m not putting up with any crap anymore.”
Okay, apparently I haven’t reached stoic just yet. Baby steps, Paige. Baby steps .
Shrugging, he says, “All right. Good luck with that because Guy’s the same megalomaniac he was when you left here, and he’s not going to like the new Paige at all.”
“He can not like me all he wants. I really don’t care.”
The elevator doors open, and I step off, striding toward my desk with my head held high, even though inside my stomach is churning and I’m regretting that second cake pop I had at Starbucks.
As soon as I set my handbag down, my desk phone rings. It’s Guy. Instead of answering it, I turn to look at him through the glass wall to his office. I give him the ‘do you want me to come in there?’ gesture, and he nods. Immediately the phone stops ringing.
I grab a pad of paper and a pen, then walk in, ready to take notes. Guy stands and hurries over to me, giving me the first and only hug in the years since we’ve worked together. It’s completely shocking, awkward for both of us, and I know he’s regretting it immediately. If I had to guess, I’d say he planned that ahead of time, assuming it’s what a normal person would do. Pulling back, he smiles at me. “What a relief! It has been a nightmare without you. ”
“I’m glad to be here,” I tell him, meaning I’m glad to be alive, not necessarily here in his office.
He sits back down and glances at his clock. “I notice you didn’t make it in early.”
“I’m right on time,” I tell him, sitting in the chair across from his desk. “As we agreed to. Now, you wanted to talk to me about some changes in my position here?”
“Yes,” he says with the dazzling grin he gives his biggest clients. “As you know, you’ve become quite the sensation, and we need to capitalize on that. So, the big news is that you, Missy, are going to be brought in on all the big client meetings as our newest junior executive!” He switches to the open-mouthed smile with wide eyes. “Hey? What do you think of that?”
“What does it mean, exactly?” I ask, taking note of the fact that he said I’ll be ‘brought in as’ and not that I am a junior exec.
His head snaps back. “What do you mean, what does that mean? It’s a good thing, Paige. Smile.”
I run my tongue over my teeth before I answer—total power move. “Are you formally offering me a position as a junior executive? Because the way you said it could mean that we’re going to make it look like I’ve been promoted, but I’m still an assistant.”
He shakes his head and chuckles. “God, you’re smart. Too smart. I mean, obviously you’re getting the promotion, but for now, I need you to stay in your current role.”
I open my mouth but he lifts his hand to stop me from speaking and says, “But obviously only until I find someone.”
Folding my arms across my chest, I say, “When will you start actively looking?”
His expression is one of confusion, his cheeks pink and his eyes darting from side to side. “Well, not today or anything. I told you, we’re way behind because of your unplanned absence.” Guy narrows his eyes at me. “Paige, you seem to have come back, I don’t know … more distrusting somehow?”
Okay, that’s it. I’m going to let him have it. “Six years, Guy. I’ve worked my ass off for you for six years—days, nights, weekends. Missing out on having a life so I can prop yours up and keep things running smoothly. Buying gifts for your wife, packing your things when she kicked you out, draining your dog’s anal glands?—”
“You said you didn’t mind, and you know I have a strong gag reflex.”
“Everybody has a strong gag reflex when it comes to anal glands,” I say, then continue my list. “I stay on top of every project at the agency so you don’t have to and the entire staff basically hates me because of it. They call me Little Miss Hitler behind my back. Do you know what that feels like?”
He shrugs and opens his mouth, but I cut him off, growing angrier by the second. “Handling angry clients so you don’t have to deal with them, and there are a lot of angry clients, Guy, because some of the teams you’ve got here are, frankly, incompetent. I keep track of your medical appointments, your medications, have bought, wrapped and shipped every Christmas and birthday gift to every member of your family for years. I wrote a hit rap song, Guy. About erectile dysfunction medication. And my salary is a joke. I barely make enough for rent and food.”
Shaking his head, he says, “That can’t be true. You live in a nice building.”
“My roommate pays most of the rent, because unlike me, she was smart enough to go to work for herself,” I answer, my face hot with shame. I take a deep breath and shake off that feeling, sitting up taller in my chair. “So, no, I don’t accept your plan to have me being paid an assistant’s salary while doing two jobs. It’s time to show me that you appreciate everything I’ve done for you, and that you see my true value. Because I see it now. I didn’t before, but I am fucking awesome. You said it yourself—this place is falling apart without me. And you can’t say I’m not versatile. You can’t say I haven’t paid my dues. You certainly can’t say I haven’t earned my spot as an executive here, because I have more than earned it.”
He glares at me. “I can’t believe you’re doing this to me. Not after everything I did to get you rescued. I led a massive campaign, begging all our celebrity clients to help get the word out. I sent a jet for you and your family to get you home safely. I found the best doctor on the Eastern Seaboard. Or … well, the best one who was willing and available, anyway. If that doesn’t show what you mean to me, I don’t know what more you could possibly want.”
Oh, you don’t know? Well, allow the new me to tell you. Because new me articulates what she needs. “I want a promotion to the job I’ve been doing all along. I want to hand over all the menial tasks you force your assistant to do to someone else who’s willing to do them. I want to finally have a life. A real life where I get a full night’s sleep and do whatever I want in the evenings and on the weekends instead of forever being at your beck and call. I want to go back to school to finish my degree, not full-time or anything, maybe two classes a semester. I haven’t figured that out yet, but it’ll mean I need to free up more time for that.”
He switches over to the icy calm demeanor he gets when he’s about to lose it. “Well, that’s all really lovely, and I’m glad you want to better yourself. I’m all for it, in fact, especially if you think you’re going to end up with a senior position someday. And I already told you. I will find a replacement, but it will take time,” he says through gritted teeth. “But it sounds like you want a huge raise and to be allowed to coast by doing the bare minimum from now on, which frankly is concerning, Paige. It makes me question your future at this company.”
My heart beats in my chest so hard, I can hear it in my ears. I do my best to look calm and confident, but this might be the beginning of the end here. And I might regret it for the rest of my chronological life. But I have to do it. I need this. He is never going to stop using me. “Believe me, you’re not the only one questioning my future here.”
“Are you threatening to quit?”
“No, I’m telling you what it’ll take to keep me. It’s as simple as that,” I answer. “You said it yourself. My stock has gone way up. People are clamoring to work with me, so it’s time for you to either put up or shut up.” Gah! Put up or shut up? Paige, you cannot say that to your boss! Back it up. Back. It. Up!
He lifts his left eyebrow and makes a tsk ing sound. “No one tells me to shut up.”
“It’s an expression. Feel free to keep talking if you have to,” I answer. As soon as the words are out of my mouth, my brain starts to ring an alarm bell. The clanging in my head is saying I’ve gone way too far. But then I realize, that voice is coming from the old, scared me. I take a slow, deep breath. “You know what? I changed my mind. I don’t want a promotion or … actually even more time off.”
His face relaxes. “Good. I’m glad you can see you were being unreasonable. Now, I’m going to chalk this up to the trauma you’ve suffered recently and we can forget the whole thing. ”
Standing, I say, “I don’t want those things because I quit.”
He opens his mouth, then closes it again, his face turning red.
“I’m done. I quit.” Giving him a sarcastic salute, I say, “I’m on Paige Time now.”