Page 2 of Breaking Point
Everyone is firing.
I’ve witnessed colleagues scream in this room; I’ve watched them cry and beg because they have a family to feed that depends on them. All the while Jason sits in that big, comfy chair of his, looking down his nose at his employees and savoring the fact he never closes the blinds to his floor-to-ceiling glass panel doors.
Glancing over my shoulder, I see he hasn’t given me the decency of closing the blinds either. I expected this. In fact, I hoped he wouldn’t close them.
Because I’m going to savor every second I wipe that smug smirk off his face.
Lifting my head, I paste on the fakest smile I’ve ever shown in my life and nod my chin toward the lone sheet of paper on his desk.
“I take it that’s my severance package?”
Jason stumbles, his arrogant smirk faltering.
This clearly wasn’t the reaction he was expecting. And now I know that humiliating his ex-employees was never an accident.
The bastard is sadistic, and I would love nothing more than to spit in his coffee, kick his balls so far up his ass he sees stars, and introduce his girlfriends to one another. But I, unfortunately, have more self-control than that.
Perhaps too much self-control.
He clears his throat. “Yes, it’s what the company sees fit.”
Taking the sheet of paper before his greedy hands can touch it, I flip it over and bite my tongue to stop the bark of indignation from escaping.
Is this a fucking joke?
A humorless laugh escapes me.
Fuck self-control.
“The company saw fit to give me a week’s pay with an effective immediate layoff?” My head cocks to the side as I stare down the smallest man who ever lived. “They saw fit to give the employee, whose workload tripled without a pay rise, enough money to buy a tank of gas and a small cart of groceries?” My cheeks hurt from how strained my smile grows. “The company saw fit to throw their only graphic designer out on her ass even after they manipulated her to be quiet over their sweet darling nepotism child assaulting her?”
That gets a rise out of him.
BANG.
Jason slaps the desk so hard I hear a gasp ring out from somewhere in the office behind me.
He spits through gritted teeth as he points a meaty finger at me, “You signed an NDA.”
Now my smile turns real.
“With disappearing ink.”
Jason’s jaw drops as the veins in his neck pulse. “There’s no such thing?—”
“On the contrary, there is. Google it.”
“Youlittle bit?—”
“Careful, Jason,” I say sweetly, raising my phone. “You’re on camera. Now, what was it that you were saying? Oh, yes! That I’ve put up with your bullshit for so long, taken upon three workloads without a pay raise—which, let me remind you, is illegal because of the signing contract I was offered when starting—and in turn, the company is so devastated to see me go they’ve offered me six months’ severance pay?” I place a hand over my chest, keeping my phone camera trained on the man glaring daggers at me as I practically purr, “I’ll accept.”
All the bravado leaves my body the second I get inside my Honda Civic. If it weren’t for the numerous heads popping up to watch me walk away in the window above, I would wait for my nervous system to settle. But I can’t let them see me fumble, not after that escapade.
So, despite my shaking hands, I shove the small box that contains three years of my corporate life onto my passenger seat, clutch the wheel with a death grip, and drive.
Using the Bluetooth on Apple CarPlay, I call the only person I need at this moment.
The phone only rings once.
