“My hands are tied,” he says reluctantly, but it’s the clench of his jaw and the deep sigh that leaves him that has me tilting my head in assessment. There is something else.
“Your hands are tied?” I narrow my eyes at him. “Yeah? Who’s tying them? Misogyny?” I spit, but when he doesn’t flinch or look even a little ashamed, I know it’s something deeper. “Nah…this wasn’t just you, was it?” I tap my chin, then because I can’t remain still anymore, I begin to pace in front of his desk.
“Rosie—”
“Quiet.” I silence him with a raised hand, letting my mind work. He watches as I pace, and I note that the apology I saw in his eyes before is now just utter defeat. He looks…tired. “What else? There is something else, what is it?”
“It’s…complicated.”
“Yeah? Well, uncomplicate it, Chris.” He doesn’t. He remains silent, almost like he’s trying to tell me with his eyes, and then…it hits me.
It feels like all the blood drains from my face as I freeze. My heart plummets off a cliff, nausea rolling around my stomach as it flips with helplessness. Icy fear shoots through me.
No.
No. Way.
“It’s…it’s my father, isn’t it?” I whisper the words, hoping that they aren’t true, but the soft closing of Chris’s eyes and slump of his shoulders is all the answer I need.
“Oh my god.” My legs buckle, and in the haze that blurs my vision, I stumble to the corner of his office and empty the entire contents of my stomach into his trash can.
“Shit,Rosie,” Chris hisses. I hear his feet coming closer and I raise a hand to stop him. I think I might actually go feral cat on him if he gets any closer. I let myself empty the contents of my stomach before I spit and wipe the corners of my mouth.Standing straight, I tighten the frayed straps of my perfect mask, just for a little bit longer.I need to get out of here.
He’s done it, he delivered on his threat and he’s cut open the last part of my life. He’s taken everything from me, simply to show me that he could. To get me to fall in line, to take back control. And isn’t that ironic? That in every way that I despise my father and try to pretend we are nothing to each other, in this one aspect, we’re almost the same. The need for control is so deeply embedded into our souls, we care for little else. Like right now. I’d rather cease to exist than lose any more of myself in front of Chris.Later,I tell myself.Fall apart later.
“Rosie, please just let?—”
“The entire board voted, as did Karvelas Media. You said I won by a unanimous vote. So even if I did sleep with Caleb for a vote—which I sure as shit didn’t—I still won based on the entire board.” The words are hushed venom, my breath coming in fast as my heart beats like a wild drum to keep up with the adrenaline coursing through my veins. “So look me in the eyes and tell me the real reason why you’re firing me.” I simmer with unspent rage, and he sighs again.
“I’m not firing you. It’s complicated, but I need you to step down.” He sits on the edge of his desk, and I stand there, feeling like I’m floating outside my body, watching all my dreams crash and burn in front of me. I swayed on my feet in complete shock and disgust at the poor excuse of a man in front of me.
“I don’t believe you. You sat there scolding me over some fake excuse, using my sexuality and personal relationships to belittle me? Using professionalism andintegrityas your basis? You don’t know the meaning of the word. Instead, you let some ball breaker line your pockets and call the shots. You’re despicable.” I can feel the burning of my skin, the shake in my voice, and the sting in my eyes. Hell, it feels like my entire bodyis vibrating with the sheer rage and complete misery that is slowly eating away at me.
“He’s one of our biggest investors, we lose his money and we lose everything. This merger, all of it was to save both our asses, we’re…we’re almost broke, Rosie. We can’t afford to upset anyone right now.”
“Except for your top-earning employees, right? How long?” I’m desperately holding tight to my image of calm confidence while I feel myself slowly begin to crumble inside.
“How long what?” He sounds completely resigned to his fate. Good. I hope he gets his karma.
“How long has he been an investor?” I’m certain I know the answer, but my mind doesn’t want to believe it. I need to hear the words. I need to make myself acknowledge that any sense of control I thought I had over this “borrowed life” was just a farce, an illusion that my father let me believe in.
“Since you started,” he answers, the words quiet as he makes his way back around to his desk and sits, running a hand over his face.
A hysterical laugh works its way up my throat, my eyes feeling wet, and I urge the pain to recede, to wait. It feels like the walls slowly begin to close in on me, the floor getting closer as the colors around me fade. I see the pathetic and helpless look on Chris’s face, but I can’t muster the energy to feel sympathy. He made his bed. He can sleep in it.
I close the distance, straightening my shoulders and raising my chin as I get to his desk.
“You know what, Chris.” He looks up at me and I give him a smile, one as empty as I feel inside. “You can shove your job up your ass. I fucking quit.” I spin and head for the door.
Chris is on my tail so quick, pleading, calling my name, and before I leave the office, I spin on him, letting every bit of anger reach the surface. “If Daniel gets the promotion, if he gets anyone of my authors, I’ll take you to every workplace union and board, I will go to Steph, the other admin staff of past and present, and I will personally fund every single claim, and bury this fucking company in lawsuits so thick you won’t breathe. Even my own father will pull his funding, not wanting to touch you with a ten-foot fucking pole.” Chris swallows thickly and I can feel my smile turn menacing, glad my message is crystal clear. “Liza gets my list. She should get the promotion, too, because you and I both know if anyone other than me deserves it, it’s her. I’ll send someone to collect my things.” I turn, ignoring Chris’s protests, opening the door, and storming down the hall. Chris’s office is located at the back of the building, so I have no choice but to keep my chin high as I make my way through the cubicles. I don’t stop at my office or collect my things, and I don’t stop when I see worried looks from Halle and Jasper as they watch me leave. I feel numb, feel like I’m one word away from irreparably crumbling.
And then I see Daniel and his smug fucking face from where he leans on a pillar near the elevators. I don’t process much of the decision I make in this moment, I just see his dumb head and I storm right up to him, feeling the sting on my hand as I slap my open palm clean across his face. “You should have been swallowed, you fucking stain,” I hiss at him while he doubles over, clutching at his face.
Hope it leaves a mark.
I head straight for the elevator and get lost in the numbness as my mind struggles to come to terms with everything that just went down. I should have known better. I should have been smarter, should have anticipated every fucking move. Ofcoursemy father would do this. Had I not heard his threat? That he’d end my career by simply cutting off one of his many puppet strings? Had I really thought to call the bluff of Antonio Garcia? Maybe I deserved this for being so goddamned foolish.
What’s worse than realizing I had the wool pulled over my eyes? Is wondering if any of it was real. Had I even earned any of it? Was every title that came my way orchestrated somehow? Had Chris only ever selected my pitches because he had to? Out of fear for funding? Did I earn that first promotion out of my intern year, or was Chris paid to take me? Ha. All this time I thought people were finally seeing me as Rosie Garcia, for my worth and my talent, for the heart I put into every day. That I was Rosie Garcia, the youngest intern to become a junior editor. Rosie Garcia, the youngest editor to have five titles in theNew York Timesbest sellers. Rosie Garcia, the youngest editor to be appointed chief of her very own imprint.
