Page 123 of Take It Offline
“No” is the chorus answer.
CHAPTER 41
YOU WANNA BE ON TOP?
EMMA
When we arrive at the office on Monday morning, I find a meeting invitation from none other than Emmanuel Fletcher.
I knew it was coming, especially after Charlie and I made that visit to security, but what’s surprising is who isn’t invited.
Karl Roberts.
In fact, as the day progresses, Roberts doesn’t appear in the office at all.
His absence makes me nervous, and not in a fun way.
Charlie notices, of course, checking on me throughout the day, a worried crease between his brows. And in the minutes before I set off for my meeting, he pulls me aside to give me a pep talk. It’s so sweet, all I want to do is kiss him.
I’ve always hated the idea of being owed benefits simplybecause, but that isn’t the case here. I’ve worked hard for this. Earning it matters to me.
“Sweetheart, no one in this company has earned it more than you, including the top dog.”
I battle the heated blush that bubbles under my skin. My foundation has never had to work so hard. It’s the Charlie Walker effect.
“You’re right.” It feels wildly good to admit, and I let the adrenaline fuel me as I go.
Maybe the game is rigged.
Maybe the real win would be living a life I choose instead of working myself to the bone for a goal that might always be held out of my reach.
But if the life I want includes working hard for the simple joy of knowing exactly how incredible I can be, then what?
Who am I really working for?
Myself?
The elusivethem?
Organizations so rarely care about their workforce beyond productivity and reputation, so it stands to reason that I shouldn’t care about my job as much as I do. There’s a damn good chance that all my efforts will be in vain.
I’ve sat beside Ivy at a HR meeting where she reported a coworker for making repeatedly creepy comments. HR’s response? Handle it yourself.
I’ve been punished for finding problems and offering solutions. For working harder than my boss does.
I’ve been told to stop being combative when I speak up in meetings, and to stop being quiet when I don’t.
To say yes to more while also being told to stop overloading myself.
Where does it stop?
There is a vast world of measures a woman is expected to live up to yet can never meet. I’m sick of holding my tongue, of being told to accept it because it’s “how it’s always been.” Of being told that holding on to anger is a problem.
I want to make my own mark, as small as it might be. Carve out my own space. One I can look at and say “I did that.” I made a positive impact, even if it was only for one person.
This job hasn’t turned out how I hoped it would when I started. Doing work I’m proud of has given me a stake to hold on to, a tangible piece of my identity.
It’s small, but it’s mine, and it’s real.
