By Wednesday, the shit’s hit the fan.
Mr. Becker has major attitude, slamming doors and raising his voice at anyone who comes near him.
With Mia gone, our department’s under the pump, and everyone’s feeling the pressure.
I was due to have a meeting with some key stakeholders when Mr. Becker told me to stay in reception and answer calls. It’s a big slap in the face, but with everything else that’s going on, I don’t know how to fight for what I want anymore.
It feels like everything in my life is falling apart.
***
With my birthday looming, I’m looking forward to spending it at the amusement park. According to all the media press, it has one of the fastest rollercoasters in the Northern Hemisphere and a haunted house guaranteed to make you shit your pants. Exactly what I need. A day to let my inhibitions go and forget that turning thirty means I’ll need to be responsible with my life. The joys of turning back the clock and being a kid again, if only for one day, but with booze and a haunted house. Now that sounds like fun.
Given that the tickets are almost sold out, I decide to head over there this afternoon making sure I secure some for next Friday night. I ask Mr. Becker if I can leave half an hour early given that I’ve finished all my work and stayed late each night this week. He mumbles something which I take as a yes.
With my bag packed and computer shut down, he calls my name, asking me to come to his office. Given his foul mood and threat to fire everyone in this building, I figure this is it. My severance pay. The final hurrah.
“Close the door behind you, Zoey.”
Nervously, I shut the door and take a seat fiddling with the hem of my skirt as I wait for the inevitable.
“I’ve been watching you, Zoey. For a long time. And I’ll be honest, you don’t belong here.”
I knew it. My hands begin to shake, and I don’t want to be one of those people who cry at work, but the tears are gathering on the surface. The struggle to compose myself is becoming too hard, my lips quivering in anticipation.
“You’ve got talent, Richards. And you staying here would be wasting that,” he says, offering a smile. “We have an opening in London. It’s a two-year contract with my brother’s company.”
“Excuse me?”
“I know it’s a big move, but my brother’s willing to pay for a fully furnished apartment and any transfer costs.”
“You want me to work in London?” I ask, unable to get a grip on the enormity of his proposal.
“Yes,” he confirms. “Unless, of course, there’s a reason to stay here. Like a boyfriend or something.”
“No boyfriend,” I answer quickly, shutting down the notion. “It’s just a lot to take in.”
“Let me give you this advice. It’s a great opportunity, one that only comes once in a lifetime. Grab it with both hands, Zoey. As
I said, you’re talented, and they could really use you for this project.”
“When do you need to know by?”
“By the end of the month,” he states firmly.
“But that’s next Friday?”
“Yes.” He stands up, placing his briefcase on his desk and inserting some paperwork.
“I have to get to that meeting. How about we meet on Monday morning? We can talk more about what’s involved.”
“Okay,” I stammer, nervous and barely able to think.
“Have a good weekend, Zoey.”
He smiles kindly, something rare, and leaves his office. I continue to sit in shock, not understanding how only moments ago I was terrified that I would lose my job, let alone be offered an opportunity that seems too good to pass up.
But London’s so far away and cold. Everything I know is here in the States.