Page 2 of The Trouble with Love and Ink
“Please,” the new guy said with a wince. “It’s just Beck.”
“Beck,” Wesley corrected, “our new senior analyst.”
The room stilled. My ears felt like they’d been stuffed with cotton. I couldn’t hear anything beyond my hammering pulse.
They’d hired out.
I wasn’t getting the promotion.
Anna’s eyes cut to mine. I felt the gaze of everyone else in the room, too. I flushed, sure my pale complexion had turned the shade of a cardinal. Chin lifting, I forced myself to look at Wesley, try to smile, or at least act like I was listening instead of swirling the drain of a doom spiral.
He introduced us to Beck, giving a little backstory on each team member. “This is Emily Lane,” he stated, nodding toward me, the human turned cadaver.
I’d given up on a social life for this job.
I’d foregone dating for this job.
I canceled my vacation for this job.
“And this is Anna Nguyen,” Wesley said, having made it around the table with the introductions. “You’ll be shadowing her in the next two months to provide a seamless transition when she leaves.”
Anna gave the new guy a chilly once over, and when Wesley moved on to his next agenda item, timesheets, she met my gaze with a What the hell? You were supposed to get my job! look. I attempted a shrug, but the moment felt too heavy to lift a shoulder at, resulting in a clumsy elbow winging out. I couldn’t feign nonchalance any more than AI art could get the eyes on a portrait right.
But the more I looked at Beckett—Beck, the more my poor-pitiful-me mood melted with a fit of smoldering anger in my chest. And I realized I should take the hit with grace, but I was too pissed. I’d worked at The Arlow Group for five years and had nothing but positive feedback from my supervisors. In our one-on-ones, I frequently received an earful of “leadership material” and “really took the initiative with this project.”
Yet, nothing ever came of it. And damn it, with this last go-live, I’d brought my A-game. Staying until seven-thirty or eight on most nights. Making myself available on the weekends. And don’t even get me started on the ass kissing, which had involved lending a shoulder to cry on as Wesley navigated through his fresh divorce.
I should have been in Florida, getting tipsy before noon and arguing with my sister about whether we should try a haunted tour or go barhopping on Duval. Instead, I stared at the man who stole my promotion, with his nice hair and even nicer shirt.
Seriously, this guy shows up with his Egyptian fucking cotton button-down and grabs the position I’d been slotted for for years? And why?
I knew the situation had to be more complicated than how it seemed. Still, it was all too easy to imagine some, he’s a golf buddy, or I went to college with his old man bullshit.
I didn’t know the meeting had concluded until my teammates gathered their things and headed for the door. Usually, during meetings, I took meticulous notes. Today, my note page sat blank.
Anna leaned forward. “You deserve an explanation. He practically promised you this position,” she whispered fiercely.
I shook my head. “It’s fine,” I whispered back. “This doesn’t need to be a big deal.”
“It’s already a big deal,” she hissed. “Either you say something, or I will.”
My eyes widened. Anna was only going to make things worse for everyone. “Fine!” I shooed her away. “I’ll talk to him.”
Wesley shuffled toward the exit like everyone else, but before he could make a full retreat, Anna called out, “Wesley, Emily needs to speak with you.”
He sighed. He knew where this was going. “Of course.”
Anna gave me one last commiserating look before closing the door with a soft clink. Now that I had Wesley’s attention, I hesitated, unsure where to begin. My mind swarmed with angry thoughts buzzing in and out of my train of thought.
I landed on, “I think I may have misunderstood. Didn’t you say the promotion was all but mine?”
“Emily,” he said carefully. “No one in this office works harder than you. Sometimes, I wonder if the team could even function without you.” I crossed my arms, not in the mood to be buttered up, but then, fearing I resembled a sulking child, uncrossed them. “You’ve always made sure all the little details line up. And we need that.”
“But?” I prompted, sensing the lingering word.
“But Beckett had stellar recommendations from some big names.” Finally, the real truth. Beckett knew people. That’s what it always came down to, didn’t it? “Besides, he’ll bring a fresh perspective to the team. We could use that.” Wesley’s hand rested on the door handle. He was done with this conversation. “I know this is a lot to process, but try to see this as an opportunity for growth.”
I attempted to smile, but my facial muscles seemed to think that would be an act of mutiny. “Sure,” I managed.
