My boss sighs and rubs a temple with one finger, massaging it in slow circles. “I don’t know that sharing this level of detail with our higher-ups would help, Clove.”
“Then don’t.” I bite my lip. “Can we just explain that we found out who made the website, and we’re working on getting it removed? And that I’ve never done anything like this before and never would in the future.” I don’t need to send Zayne naughty photos anymore—he can see what I’ve got to share in person. I’ve learned my lesson about putting myself at risk, even with someone I trust.
I square my shoulders, rest my new purse on the table between us, and pull out some charts that I made late last night, as I lay in bed with the worst case of insomnia I’ve ever battled.
“In the meantime, I think this might help convince them that I’m worth keeping around.” I spread the charts on the table. One of them is my projects’ performances for this full year. I had the one disappointing campaign, true, and the fact that it happened right before this whole mess kicked off isn’t helping me, I’m sure. But that was one mediocre campaign in a heap of really successful ones. I point out the growth in all the areas I’ve been marketing, along with the results of my last few experimental campaigns, one of which was entirely my idea and generated a ton of revenue from an untapped stream for the whole company.
Next, I draw out another series of charts that I made. Ones to explain how much more useful I’d be if I were able to start working on relaunching the failed campaign from last week. I put together a whole new strategy and an estimated schedule of how quickly I’d be able to make up for the lost time and investments in that campaign.
“Just give me a chance,” I tell her. “And I’ll make it worth your while. The board can keep reviewing the case, decide later what they want to do about me, if they can keep me on or not. But in the meantime, let me help you. Let me keep doing my job. Please.” I lock eyes with Stacy. “I need this. Not the money, just the… The activity, the job itself. I need to have something to do. It’s been just a few days and I’m already going stir-crazy.”
She sighs. “I know this job means a lot to you, Clove. And you’re right, you’ve always been a highly valuable member of our team…”
“So let me come back. Please.”
“It’s not up to me. If it were, you would never have been asked to leave at all.” Stacy purses her mouth, her fingers dancing over the desk phone beside her, as she considers. “But you’re right. This is crazy, to keep you out of the office. Especially if you’re sure there won’t be any more leaks like this. And if you already know who this is, we can file a lawsuit against them—this person hacked into our company servers too, you know. They sent spam messages about that website and your… ah, image. To our clients. We’ll press charges.”
My heart leaps at the same time my stomach twists. Will Zayne want that? He said he’d warn his ex, not straight up sue her. But then again, if she’s done all this to me, how much has she tortured other girls in his life? All for simply existing?
I can feel myself nodding. “I agree,” I say. “We’re going to confront her, but either way… She can’t feel free to do this again. She can’t keep ruining people’s lives like this.”
My boss extends a hand. I lift mine, clasp her fingers in a single tight handshake. “Deal,” she says, and I’m surprised to find that after all this, we’re both smiling.
So there’s one problem down. Here’s hoping the rest fall into place just as easily.
12
Success, I text Zayne on the train home. Just to his real phone number now, having learned my lesson about trusting app accounts. How about you?
I don’t want to admit how nervous I am to hear back. How much my heart sticks in my throat until my phone finally dings, and I can flip it open to see the reply.
Went as well as it could have. Which is to say, not great. But I think she took me seriously. I think she’ll really stop this time.
Good, I reply. Then I bite the inside of my lip. I have to tell him. Because we need to talk about something that came up in my meeting…
I text Zayne from the train to meet me outside our building. It’s his day off, which is good, since he looks like he slept on a floor all night and then spent the last hour arguing with a psychotic ex.