Page 95 of Breaking All The Rules
A part of her wanted to yell at him for being a sexist, old dinosaur, but she had to accept that she’d let this happen to herself. Sure, the power dynamic had not slid in her favor, but she was mad as hell at herself for putting up with the crap. For not speaking up or getting out earlier. Charlie may have ruled over the culture, but she had been silent in its presence, and that was on her.
“I don’t want it anymore. Not with you.”
Bea was proud of the steady finality in her voice. She didn’t. She really didn’t.
He didn’t say anything for long seconds, and then he laughed. “Oh, I see. You think someone else will employ you?”
Bea’s hackles rose. “I think any company would be falling over themselves to hire me, as well you know.”
Okay, she didn’t want another job in LA, but hell if she was going to let Charlie know that. She was confident enough in her cachet—despite her recent absence from the scene—to know that she could go to half a dozen ad agencies right now and be employed on the spot.
So screw him.
“Oh, Bea. Have you forgotten how much sway I have? And how incestuous advertising is? Come on…you haven’t been away that long.”
A prickle shot up Bea’s spine. Unfortunately, Charlie was right. He was a big deal in advertising circles. He could tank her career before breakfast if he wanted.
“A word here, a word there,” he continued, his voice almost musical as he spilled his ugly threats. “Calling in a favor here. A favor there. Letting a rumor or two slip about why you were let go from Jing-A-Ling in the first place. A gambling habit, maybe, or a fondness for pills.”
Bea shook her head at his bullying, her heart suddenly banging hard against her ribs. She wished she didn’t believe he was capable of the litany of horrors he was trying to intimidate her with, but she didn’t doubt it for a second.
“Bea,” he said, all low and fake reasonable again. “You’ll never work, let alone make it, in LA without me. And if you think my reach doesn’t extend to the East Coast, then think again.”
“Are you…threatening me, Charlie?” Bea kept her voice neutral, unwilling to betray how his treachery was affecting her as she eased her trembling body against the desk for support.
He laughed, and there was an undertone to it that made her shiver. “I always knew you couldn’t hack it at the big end of town. Too squeamish for the ad game. Too girlie. Good luck, Bea. You’re going to need it.”
The phone cut off in her ear, and Bea stared at it blankly. She couldn’t figure out what she felt more—shocked or enraged. How dare he? How freaking dare Charlie Hammersmith threaten her with career ruination?
The man was really showing his true colors today. How could she ever have looked up to this utterly deplorable piece of work? Jesus…he was so getting the Cranky Bea treatment next time she sat down to sketch.
“Bea?” Kim came to the door, looking at her watch. “Shouldn’t you have left by now?”
Bea looked up from her phone, barely making Kim out through the red mist clouding her vision. “No,” she said, a decision crystalizing, snap-freezing in her brain and coming right out her mouth. “Does your job offer still stand?”
Kim seemed confused for a beat before a slow smile tugged at her mouth. “Yes.”
“And this will really be my office?”
“Yes.”
A corner office was a corner office. It didn’t matter how high it was off the ground—it was all about the statement. “When can I start?”
“Whenever you want.” Kim clasped her hands together, as if she was having a hard time containing her excitement. “As soon as possible?”
“Is today okay?”
The smile morphed into a grin that practically split Kim’s face in two. “Today is perfect.”
“All right, then.” Bea also grinned, some of the rage and mist dissipating at Kim’s delighted reaction. “I’ll get back to work.”
Kim nodded sedately, even though she looked like she was about to levitate in excitement. “I’ll leave you to it.”
Then she practically skipped out of the room.
Bea walked around to the other side of her desk, her legs still shaking. Sitting slowly, as the enormity of her sudden snap decision sunk in, she took some deep breaths and reached out to push the start button on her computer, staring at it absently as it booted up.
She’d show Charlie dipshit Hammersmith and his ilk that she’d not only make it in LA but she’d fucking thrive. His influence might extend into all kinds of advertising circles and that could well have thrown some wrenches in some plans, had she wanted to keep working the old-school way—except she didn’t.
