Page 3 of A Win-Win Situation

I don’t like people, and I certainly don’t like people in my private space. This whole situation means that I’ll have to share my apartment. And with the timeline I have, she’ll probably be a random woman because asking my ex-girlfriend is out of the question. She’s been trying to reconcile since we broke up five years ago but I never loved her, and I don’t think she ever loved me.

Inside, a small voice whispers that I don’t deserve to be forced into this, but I push it away. This is my responsibility—my duty to the family and our legacy. And I will do it, no matter the cost.

How hard can it be to find a good and respectable woman to marry?

TWO

LEORA

PRESENT

"You’re fired."

Amazing. Great. Perfect.

"Did you hear me, Miss Davis?"

Agnes, the bitch-boss, was promoted to her manager position a month ago and she’s been an ass ever since. She’s been at the company for four years; she's talented, but she’s always been a little bit of an outsider. I tried to get her to join our Wednesday lunches, but she declined every time, leaving me to assume that she wasn’t interested in making friends. I even used to bring her a coffee every morning, but all I got was a stiff smile and a nod. Apparently, coffee is not the way to her heart.

And here I am, sitting in front of her, getting fired.

She shows absolutely no signs of regret or guilt, while my face is probably as white as her sad office walls. Who doesn’t decorate their office? There’s not even a plant in sight.

"You can’t just fire me without reason." I take a deep breath, willing myself to not pass out.

"I actually can, Leora. Your employment is considered ‘at-will’ which means the company can choose to part ways with you at any time, for any reason. However, in this case, we do have a reason. But on the bright side, now you can take that little vacation with no work hanging over your head." She says the last part with scathing viciousness.

There it is. My vacation.

The trip that was approvedsix months ago.

"Am I getting fired because I’m going on a trip? Senior management already approved my vacation, and so did you," I point out. I always knew she had something against me. This woman has been the bane of my existence since I started this job. And while it might not be my dream job, a job’s a job, and a girl’s gotta eat.

Right?

As much as I dislike the job and the environment, I’m actually good at what I do. I’m a marketing assistant for a marketing firm, and my workload recently increased when I was given more accounts to work on. I’ve had the best results, generating the most revenue from each and every account I’ve been assigned, and I was on my way to a promotion—or at least I thought I was.

"No. I’m firing you because you left internal papers out for the customer to find. Do you know how much I had to scramble to contain the damage you caused? Your actions were a serious breach of company policy, and you jeopardized the confidentiality and security of sensitive information. Unfortunately, your actions have resulted in severe consequences. After speaking with the higher-ups, I have no choice but to terminate your employment at Momentum Marketing."

An icy feeling runs through me as my blood freezes.

What the hell.

I’ve never leftanypapers out, especially not internal ones. I’ve always made sure to maintain confidentiality at all times. This must be a mistake. I know I was a bit stressed and tired at the latest event we held with one of my accounts, and I had a few glasses of bubbly to soothe my nerves, but I don’t remember leaving any papers out.

At the moment, my muddled mind can’t recall anything.

Did I do it? Did I accidentally leave the papers out?

I feel my hands go clammy, and my heart races at the speed of light.

I try to speak up but she isn’t having it. "I’m sorry, but this is what needs to be done. Just sign these papers so you can get your severance package—three months in your case—which is more than fair." She taps her fingers on the desk before adding, "Now, if you don’t mind, I have a meeting to attend to."

"But I don?—"

"If you want to leave the company with dignity and a recommendation letter, I suggest you sign the papers."

I sigh with resignation. I need that recommendation letter if I want to find another job in this industry, so I sign the papers, slowly stand up, and walk through the glass doors only to be greeted by my colleagues—all staring at me wide-eyed. They know exactly what just took place.

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