Page 94 of Playing the Player

Sasha

I’ve always loved my birthday. Some people hate them because it means they're getting older, but I’ve never understood that. You get one day a year that’s all about you? What’s not to like?

I’m at work now, but Olivia is taking me out to dinner later to celebrate, and then tomorrow, I’m flying to New York to spend Christmas with my parents and Liam. And I know what you’re thinking… Sasha flying? But it’s true!

I have added facing my fears to my ‘healing’ list and right at the top is getting on a plane. Sure, I may have to pop a few Xanax before take off, but at least I can say I’ve done it!

“Stella!” Larry’s barks from inside his office. There’s no one on this floor named Stella so I assume he wants me.

I squeeze my eyes shut for a second before plastering on the fakest smile known to mankind and stepping inside his office.

“Don’t you knock?” He snaps at me without looking up.

My eyes roll before I can stop them. Thankfully, he’s too busy glaring daggers at his computer screen to notice. I want to strangle him and see the life drain from his boring, beady grey eyes. “Sorry, sir.” I move to stand in front of the desk, not daring to take a seat without his permission. God forbid.

“Big meeting tomorrow. I expect you here early and I expect you to have all the coffee orders and paperwork right this time.” He doesn’t even spare me a glance but he has a look of disgust on his face. I’m internally making the same face at him.

I clear my throat. “I’m sorry, sir, but I have booked tomorrow and Friday off.”

His head whips around so fast I’m surprised he hasn’t hurt his neck from the force. “Excuse me? Who cleared this?” My hands tremble around the small stack of papers that I’m holding. This guy is terrifying.

“You did, sir.” My voice is quiet as I speak to him, not wanting to make him more angry by ‘shouting’. That's what he calls it when I speak in my normal volume.

“No, I wouldn’t have done that.” I grind my molars so hard that my jaw aches. He cannot be serious. I had asked him just last week and he said, and I quote, “That’s fine. You’re useless here anyway.”

“I’m sorry, but I’m visiting my-”

“I don't give a shit about what you’re doing.” He bellows, interrupting me. “Just be here by 8am and stop giving me trouble. You’re on thin ice, Sydney.”

I turn to leave, my anger reaching levels I didn’t know it could. My heart pounds hard against my rib cage. But then I stop. What am I doing? I’m not gaining anything by working here anymore, other than a headache. No, you know what? I’m not doing this anymore. I am so sick of being around these misogynistic, sleazy, arrogant assholes! I am done.

I spin on my heel, facing the man who has made my life hell for the past few years. “No.” My voice is strong and firm, no trace of the quiet woman from two minutes ago.

He looks up at me, shock flashing across his face before it’s replaced by the usual annoyance. “No?”

“No. I won’t be in tomorrow.” I steel my spine, the confidence that’s swirling through me finally taking a stand. “I have worked my ass off here, doing everything that has been asked of me and you,” I emphasize by pointing my manicured nail at him, “have been an absolute ballache to work for.”

Holy shit, this feels good. Better than good. I feel powerful. Larry goes to speak again, but I cut him off. “I am not done.” His face turns a hilarious shade of red.

“I have been humiliated and degraded more times than I can count by you and your sleazy friends and I am so sick of having to listen to a bunch of old men talking about their gross, shriveled up dicks and dry as fuck sex lives.”

The adrenaline pumping through my veins is setting me on fire and I feel like I’m high. Gone is the shy, timid girl who bends over when asked. She has been replaced by a fierce woman who will no longer take any shit.

“I’m not letting you or anyone walk all over me anymore.” I say, holding Larry’s enraged stare. “I quit.”

I turn, marching to the door with my head held high.

“You can’t quit, because you’re fired!” Larry roars at my back but I just laugh, a full belly laugh that shakes my entire body. This man is unbelievable. He just needs to save what little pride he has left and shut the fuck up.

Stepping into the still open doorway, I turn my head to him. “And my fucking name is Sasha!”

The look on his face when I leave is priceless. Fuck, I wish I had taken a photo to look at when I need a reminder that I’m a bad ass. Olivia is never gonna believe this!

Conor would be so proud of me right now. I just wish I could call him and tell him. I wish he was here to see it. I can just imagine his smug grin and the pride shining through those deep blue ocean eyes.

My smile falters and I allow myself a moment to grieve what could have been. Just one moment and then I’m plastering that smile back on my face, gathering what few things I have sitting at my desk, slipping them into my bag and then getting the hell out of here.

And, I get to check another item off my healing list. Check!