Up & Out - Ariella Papa [57]
“You know, the exact same thing happened to me at Playtime.” He shakes his head.
“I just don’t know what to do. Should I quit?” I ask.
“That’s what they want. You can’t, or you’ll get no severance. It sucks. She’s been jealous of you since she got here.”
“That’s just it. I never was this kind of woman, now I’m turning catty—and I never did anything to her.”
“And she’s driving everyone crazy. Everyone hates her and everyone likes you. I’m glad I’m not a woman. Sorry.”
“Thanks. If everyone hates her and she sucks as much as we know she does, how come she’s here?”
“They’re never going to fire someone they just hired. With this whole merger thing, they’d do anything to avoid the bad press. They got to kowtow to the big guys at Indy Mutual, she’s from there. We just have to suck it up. I’ll help you with whatever I can. You need advice. Anything.”
“Thanks. It’s all such political bullshit.” I sigh.
“Rebecca, listen to me. No matter what, you can’t quit. They want that. They’re hoping you do. They’re never going to fire her. This is a test for you. If you quit you’ll get no severance, no unemployment. You cannot do it. You’ll lose too much.”
“What about my peace of mind? What about my stress level?”
“Look, it won’t be long now. Just hang in there.”
It seems like everyone knew I was being set up to fail. Throughout the day, different people came into my office and shut the door and told me they thought the situation was shitty. I didn’t believe that Don had let it slip to all these people—at least not this quickly. But things have a way of getting out. It was bizarre that it seemed so certain.
I appreciated all of the support, but I knew in the end there was nothing anyone could really do. In the end, all of this support was not going to stop me from getting up and outed.
I wanted to call someone—not Seamus—one of my girlfriends or Tommy. But, I knew that if I called one of them I would start crying on the phone. I promised myself I would never cry at work.
I start to look over all the paperwork I had on Hannah’s Hacienda. Why did everyone love alliteration so damn much?
I couldn’t really get that into it. I was going through the motions. It didn’t seem to make a difference what I did, so why should I try? The outcome would be the same no matter what.
Toward the end of the day, Delores peeks in my office.
“I’m not leaving,” she says. “I’m just going to get lunch.”
I know the correct response is to point out that it’s almost seven o’clock and isn’t she a little trouper for working so hard that she hasn’t had time to eat lunch?
But, I just nod. If this was what it was going to take to keep my job I was happy to get fired.
I check my cell phone. There is a message from Seamus apparently “just calling to say hi.” He has to work late. He hopes we can go out on Thursday.
I decide to leave early, but I take a bunch of my folders with me. I need to be prepared, just in case.
I think of something as I close the door to my office. I walk down to Delores’s office. I look at the bouquet. The card is no longer propped against the vase. That had only been for me, to prove something to me.
She really is threatened, the tacky, petty freak.
It’s still light out when I leave my office building. I don’t want to go home. I decide to go down to Lupa and sit at the bar and order myself a good fattening dinner. The place is crowded, but the maître d’ finds a seat for me at the bar pretty quickly. I order a little carafe of white wine and pasta cacio e pepe. It’s really a winter meal, but it’s comfort food. It’s so simple, pasta with pepper and cheese.
The only trouble is, there’s this lump in my throat that makes it hard for me to swallow. I push my food around my plate for a half hour when the bartender asks if he should wrap it for me.
“Please.” I decide not to get another drink, just the check. I walk home up Sixth Avenue. The summer city sky is turning pink. I walk past Bryant Park. Soon there will be free movies in the park on Monday nights. There are things I love about summers in the