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Slowly, close to nine thirty, everyone else trickles in with Stacy coming in with our manager, Mavis. The two are laughing about something. Someday I hope to have that kind of relationship with Mavis where we can joke about silly things and I won’t be so nervous about my job security. I like her and want her to like me back. I give Mavis a small smile as she sits down, which she returns.
She pulls out the agenda. “First, you all need to do your diversity training modules before the end of the month. HR keeps sending me queries about when the team will finish this, so please do it sooner rather than later. Second, we aren’t going to be buying the flavored coffees anymore. Finance says we’re spending too much on those pods, and we need to cut back.”
I should not have had that second cup. I fight the urge to cover the top of my mug with my other hand because the light cream color is a dead giveaway. Stacy looks over at my mug and then arches an eyebrow in my direction, which everyone notices. Harry coughs into his fist. I flush.
“Maybe if we all only drank one, we wouldn’t be in this pickle,” Stacy suggests.
Mavis nods. “That’s a good idea. Everyone limit yourself to one pod per day. If you want more coffee, buy from downstairs.”
I resolve not to drink any of the free coffees. I need to decrease my caffeine intake anyway. The agenda says I’m up next. I straighten the edges of my papers and take in a deep breath.
“Stacy is giving the proposal today instead of Harlow. Take it away, Stacy.”
I blink in confusion as Stacy stands up and points the remote at the electronic whiteboard. A slide pops up with an animation I spent ten minutes putting together. I blink once and then twice. In the submitted by section, there are three names but not one of them is mine. Where my name should be, Stacy’s appears.
“Thanks, Mavis. Our team has put together this plan that involves targeting a cross section of the main laundry customer and the eco-conscious customer.” Stacy clicks to the next slide. “We’ve suggested three different names for the product, including EcoSpin Cycle, EcoSpin, and SpinSense.”
“The EcoSpin Cycle one is so clever. Was that your idea?” Mavis leans forward.
I open my mouth, but Stacy is already answering. “It was a team effort.”
Mavis winks, as if she thinks Stacy is being modest. Stacy isn’t being modest. She’s lying. Okay, not lying exactly. We were in a meeting together and throwing out different ideas, but Stacy was on her phone, and I was the one that came up with it. In fact, after I came up with the idea, Stacy told me to prepare the whole report and I could submit it under my name. Getting projects under your name is how you get promoted. I seethe during Stacy’s—sorry, my presentation and with every compliment that she gets, particularly from Mavis, about how fresh and forward thinking the ideas are; how cleanly everything is presented. By the end, Stacy is glowing, and I’m nearly purple with repressed indignation and hurt. Why did Stacy do this to me? How can Mavis not see the difference between this report and the slap-dash ones Stacy usually presents?
“I can really tell you put a lot of effort into this, Stacy. You’ve stepped up your effort here and are an inspiration to the team. Let’s give Stacy a round of applause.”
A weak smattering of claps greets Mavis. At least the team seems bewildered. They know exactly the amount of work they, and Stacy, put into this. Mavis is clueless. I want to scream. I want to cry. This is so unfair.
Chapter Five
HARLOW
“Can you stay for a moment?” Mavis asks. Her tone isn’t the congratulatory-praise one she used with Stacy who has already left. Instead, it’s a little cold. The remaining members of the team send me sympathetic glances. My stomach sinks to somewhere around my knees.
I fold my sweaty hands in front of me and stare at Mavis’ left shoulder. She’s wearing a shirt with puffy sleeves and on the top of one of the puffs, there’s a trace of what looks like bird poop or some other white substance.
“I’m surprised that your name wasn’t on this project. When I checked in with you two weeks ago, you said it was going well.”
How do I bring up that Stacy stole this project? That it was my work? Would Mavis even believe me? I’m barely out of my probation period, and Stacy has been here for three years. Do I go to HR? “It was going well,” I say because I’m at a loss of how to proceed.
“What happened then? Was it too hard? Too much? You worked so hard during the trial period and so this is a surprise to me.”
“I did work on this. I stayed up all night to put this report together.”
Mavis’ mouth thins. “Honesty is really valued here, even over productivity.”
That stings. “But, I did do it. I really did. I can show you on my computer.”
“Stacy did say that you would try to take credit for this but I didn’t believe her. Just because you are a full-time employee doesn’t mean we can’t fire you. I’m not going that far today because I still think you have promise, but this will be noted in your permanent file. Another strike and I’ll have to let you go. Do better, Harlow.” Mavis says those crushing words and then leaves.
I start crying because being criticized for something I didn’t do, being told to do better when I did my very best is just so demoralizing. My phone beeps, and through a watery veil, I make out that my bestie, Ariel, sent me a text.
Lunch today?
It is about that time. I’m on the verge of being fired anyway.
Yes
Ariel is already at the restaurant when I arrive. As soon as I plop down on my side of the booth, Ariel narrows her eyes. “Were you crying?”
