Page 43 of Back to Me

“This couldn’t wait until later?” she asks over her shoulder.

“No, it couldn’t.” My voice is firm, and it takes everything in me to remember why I decided to break the rules and come up here, facing the vile woman before me.

Drying her hands, she turns around and sighs. “We can talk later. I need to clean up, and I have a million emails to reply to.”

“No,” I repeat. My blood boils, and my pulse increases. My growing irritation with her condescending attitude adds fuel to the raging fire, encouraging me to speak the words I’ve rehearsed a thousand times. “I came up here to give you my resignation letter.”

Although she’s more than twenty feet away from me, I hold out the letter with a shaky hand.

Crossing her arms, she slowly marches toward me. When she’s close enough to grab the sheet of paper I’m still holding out, she rips it from my hands. Coldly staring into my eyes, she breaks them away long enough to read my letter. Holding my breath, I silently wait for her to finish reading.

Suddenly, she squeezes the paper between her clenched fingers. The sound of crinkling paper fills my ears followed by a loud cackling. Tilting her head back, Allison roars with laughter, pressing her hand to her chest. Widening my eyes, I stare at her, wondering why she finds this situation hilarious. But her laughter is dripping with disdain and disbelief. My feelings are confirmed when she hands the paper back to me, wiping the tears from the corner of her eyes.

“You’re not quitting.”

“Yes, I am.” I stare at her dumbfounded.

“You can’t quit,” she says matter-of-factly.

I’m filled with adrenaline, standing my ground. “And why is that, Allison?”

She walks around in a circle, staring at her feet as her heels tap against the rich hardwood floors. She crosses her arms stiffly over her chest.

“For starters, where else will you go? I started your career. I took a chance by hiring you with what little experience you had. You’re nothing without me.” Stopping abruptly, her body remains stiff as a board, her eyes laser focused on me. Arching a single eyebrow, I can see the evil hidden behind her beautiful face.

“I’m nothing without you?” I grit my teeth, feeling my jaw aching by the second. “You’re kidding, right?” Now it’s my turn to laugh, finding her hypocrisy and lies utterly ridiculous. “I’ve spent the last four years of my life doing everything I could to please you. I planned every single event, taken care of every single client, even brought you your obnoxious lattes and gluten-free muffins every single morning. I’ve never missed a day of work. I’ve stayed late at least three times a week, never once asking you for overtime pay. And for what?” I pause allowing my words to thicken the air between us, but as always, Allison remains stiff and unemotional. “Nothing,” I add, exacerbated. “All for nothing.”

“Nothing?” she scoffs.

“Yep.” Pressing my lips into a thin line, I nod. “What have I gained in my career by working for you?” I lift my hands and begin listing the reasons off on my fingers. “You never allowed me to display any of my art. You refuse to even take a look at my drawings and critique them. You acted as if I was somehow beneath you.”

“Yeah, well, you are younger than me.” Tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear, I can tell I’ve hit a nerve. All it takes is one-quarter of a second for all my suspicions to be confirmed.

“My age shouldn’t be any reason for you to constantly dismiss me. I have a bachelor’s degree in fine arts, Allison. This is my life,” I say, stunned.

“Just because you have a degree in art, doesn’t mean you’re good enough.”

Taking a step back, I stare at her in disbelief. It really is like talking to a brick wall. I press my fingertips into my temples, feeling the pressure of this conversation increasing to an all-time high.

“You know what I find the most confusing about all this?” I don’t even wait for her response before I wave my arm around the room. Her gaze remains focused on me despite my gesture. “This.” I take a deep breath, feeling the pressure behind my eyes ease slightly.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she says, nonchalantly.

Narrowing my eyes, I stare into her cold, heartless, unashamed soul.

“Charcoal, Allison. Fucking charcoal.”

Those are the only words I need to say before the porcelain skin of her pale cheeks blushes a dull red. Her eyebrows furrow, and for a few moments, she continues studying me. The room falls silent, and I’m not sure what else to say. I’m waiting for her to acknowledge her hypocrisy so blatantly displayed around the room when she moves past me.

Turning around, I watch as she reaches her arms behind her, fumbling to untie her bright red smock. “I want you to leave,” she says, flatly.

“What?” My heart sinks into my stomach, causing my throat to constrict so tight, my hand instinctively reaches up, wrapping my fingers around the pain growing within me.

Anger fills her wet, glassy eyes. “I want you to leave today.” Tossing her smock into a wicker basket on the floor, she adds, “Don’t bother working your last two weeks.”

Taking a step toward her, I begin to panic. For the past several days, I’ve prepared to leave this place gradually, allowing me to ease out of the job I’ve had for so long. What I wasn’t prepared for was leaving today. Despite the abuse I’ve endured over the years, I knew it was better for me to finish out my last two weeks with as much professionalism as I could muster.

“Allison, I wasn’t going to leave for another two weeks. I wanted to give you enough time to find another assistant.”

---