Desiree cringed as she overheard her name, whispered by one coworker to another like a dirty secret. The second colleague, Camille, clapped a hand over her mouth, but Desiree could still hear her stifled, snort-like giggling.
Vultures.
She quickly passed the bullpen and slipped into the sanctuary of her own office, shutting the door behind her. She’d gladly bolt and lock it, had the company’s safety policy allowed door enhancements. Alas, it did not.
Desiree settled into her swivel chair with a groan. How did she get here? A diligent worker who volunteered for every overtime opportunity, finally promoted to Management Analyst Supervisor… only for her team to hate her guts. The same team who would gleefully complain, on every coffee break and happy hour, about upper management and their borderline-sociopathic control and mistreatment of the “little people.”
“We’re the damn heart and soul of this company!” Becky slurred over her tallboy. “And what do they do? Trample us into the ground! Like we’re… dirt, or something.”
“Amen, sister!” Camille echoed over her Mai Tai. “If I was the boss… first order of business would be getting rid of this toxic-ass work culture! Straight up.”
Hums of agreement around the table, then someone said, “What about you, Dez? Aren’t you up for promotion this month?”
Feeling all eyes on her, Desiree’s Margarita glass stopped short of meeting her lips. “Um,” she said. “You know how that goes. I’ll still have to interview for it. Nothing is guaranteed.” She took a hurried sip, wishing to blend into the faux-leather beige of the booth.
“Bullshit!” Becky said. “You’re cut out for this job. No way they’ll pass you over. If they do, we’ll fucking riot! Won’t we, girls?”
Raised glasses and cries of “Hear, hear!” all around.
Camille pointed an unsteady finger at Desiree. “Just you remember, girlie. When you get to the top, don’t forget us, the little people.”
Desiree’s back went stiff with tension. “Right. Of course. I’d never.”
She’d never. And she didn’t. Recalling that happy hour, and all the ones before, Desiree felt an anxious sweat breaking through. Where was all that camaraderie now? Evaporated like so many beer belches.
She could hear the disdain in their daily greetings, which veered between morose and sarcastically enthusiastic.
“Good morning, boss-lady!”
“Hi, Desiree.”
No more familiarity of “Dez,” and not a single invite to an after-work event. It was as if she’d crossed the river Styx and turned into a shadow; a gray underworld version of the equal she once was. Untouchable and despised.
Desiree picked up the phone and dialed Becky’s extension.
“Yes, Ma’am?”
She was one of the sarcastic overly-polite ones.
“Hey Becky, would you mind stopping by my office? Bring your laptop too, please. Whenever you get a minute, no rush.”
A pause, then: “Right away, Desiree.”
Becky hung up and seconds later, restrained cackling erupted out among the cubicles. What did they have against her? Couldn’t they see she was just another working stiff, trying to better herself and make ends meet? And whatever happened to women supporting women?
There was a knock at the door, and Desiree straightened up. “Come on in!”
Becky appeared, laptop tucked under her arm. “You rang?”
“Um, yes, thanks for the quick response! Have a seat, this won’t take long.”
Hesitating at first, Becky shuffled over to the visitor’s chair and settled in. She had the guarded look of someone who anticipated to be cross-examined. Desiree was still trying to figure out how to put her subordinates at ease, now that she had them.
But observing Becky’s tense face, Desiree felt a dry lump in her throat. She should say something now. Why wouldn’t her tongue turn?
“Uh,” she started, then cleared her throat. “So, I was just hoping to go over your weekly progress report. Walk me through the data, would ya?”
Becky’s stare had an edge to it. “You know it’s pretty self-explanatory, right?” Her voice was tinted with what could only have been carefully controlled condescension.
“Of course, yeah,” Desiree said, quick to agree. This was not going well. “But it’s easy to overlook small details in a spreadsheet sent over email. That’s why I was hoping to get your expert opinion in person.”
Great. Now she felt like she was brown-nosing her own underlings. Was there a manual or SOP for how to do this? Desiree felt the dangerous first signs of an anxious sweat mustache forming along her upper lip.
Becky did not look appeased by Desiree’s compliment. If anything, she seemed tenser, her micro-braided eyebrows knotted in a frown.
“Well, the expert in the room is you, Desiree. You know, the one in the supervisor’s chair? That’s why you get paid the big bucks now.”
As soon as the words were out, Desiree felt like she was having an out-of-body experience. She wanted to drift to the ceiling, pass through the suspended eggshell tiles and all the floors above. She longed to escape this situation, which she now felt trapped in despite it being her initiative. The passive aggression was oozing off Becky, and the last thing she wanted to do was to continue any discussion at all.
But, she was the boss now. Or boss-lady, as they’d pejoratively called her. And it was her job to handle situations like this one, and worse. In a way, Becky wasn’t wrong. This was why they paid her the big bucks. Although whether a wage increase of 7.5% constituted “big bucks” was still up for debate.
Staring at Becky’s brazen, smirking face, Desiree knew she had to get it together. This was a crucial moment and she couldn’t afford to lose her shit. Because whatever transpired here would become immediately published and distributed outside these walls, for the whole team to know, discuss at length, and possibly jeer at. She couldn’t let that happen.
“You got me!” Desiree said, trying on a smile. “I asked you in here on a pretext. Of course I can read a damn progress report, I designed the template, for Christ’s sake.”
“Oh. Okay then.”
A flash of curiosity on Becky’s face, and something else. Surprise. Perhaps Desiree taking a stronger tone had finally captured her attention.
“No, I have an entirely different agenda for this meeting. I’m hoping I can count on you to be… my confidant. My ear to the ground, so to speak.”
“How do you mean?”
Oh yes, she had her now. Becky’s curiosity was piqued.
Desiree leaned over her desk, lowering her tone to barely audible levels. This heightened the urgency, or so she hoped.
“As a boots-on-the-ground worker, what’s your professional opinion about the current morale among the troops?”
Ugh, why did she have to use a military analogy? It immediately sounded wrong to Desiree’s ears, but she couldn’t let Becky know she was wavering. Strength projected is strength manifested, as her Mama used to say.
Luckily, the confidentiality theatrics seemed to work on Becky. “Why do you ask? Is someone going to be in trouble?”
She said this, unconsciously mimicking Desiree’s tone of overwrought secrecy.
“What I’m about to share with you… you can’t tell a soul in this company. Not even Camille! Do you understand?”
Becky’s stare mirrored the oversized, hyper-expressive eyes of an anime character from one of Desiree’s niece’s favorite shows. The woman was all in on the intrigue.
“I’m down! I mean… yes, I understand.”
“Great.” Desiree cast a suspicious glance at her door, as if not trusting it to contain the grand revelation. “Corporate just dropped a bombshell on me, and I need a competent advisor.”
“That’s me, all day.”
Desiree permitted herself a small smile. “I knew I could count on you. Alright, here’s the situation.”
Becky leaned in, almost holding her breath, and Desiree began to explain. There was a financial crisis brewing in the corporate headquarters. Cuts to the discretionary fund and the operational budget were imminent. And while the Legal and Fiscal teams did their best to keep things afloat, trying to avert mass layoffs, some staffing cutbacks were inevitable.
“You can’t breathe a word of this to the team,” Desiree warned. “Corporate will crucify me if it gets back to them that my employees found out about this ticking time bomb.”
“Mum’s the word. I promise!”
Desiree nodded solemnly. “Thank you. I knew you’d make a trustworthy advisor.”
“But, like, about the layoffs. What kind of advice do you need from me?”
“Oh, right. The advice.”
Desiree did some quick math, even as she noted Becky’s emotional investment in the story. A huge improvement from where she’d started.
“It’s regrettable, but Corporate needs me to identify at least three employees. To… you know. Recommend for workforce reduction.”
Becky’s face dropped. “Three? But Desiree… there’s only six of us on the team!”
Desiree’s expression was mournful. “It’s slaughter, plain and simple. And don’t think I wouldn’t have fallen on my own sword, Becky. I already tried to resign in lieu of any of you getting cut.”
Becky’s eyes grew wide. “You did?”
“Not that it did any good,” Desiree said with a sad smile. “They refused outright, said we need our management to remain a ‘unified front.’ Assholes. It’s like the little people are nothing to them.”
A vigorous nod from Becky’s side of the desk. “But how do we… how can I…”
The question died on her lips. Becky didn’t have it in her to start picking apart her work friends, to shit-talk the teammates she’d grown close to over the years, and to recommend some of them to be fired. But that was precisely what Desiree would have her do.
As the impromptu meeting continued well into the late morning, a sort of heaviness settled over the room. Yet, another remarkable thing also happened: letting Becky in on Desiree’s “managerial problem” had moved the proverbial goal posts, and the two women were now firmly on the same team.
Desiree could now see the strong qualities shining through in Becky. Her dignity and the loyalty with which she described each of her teammates. But she wanted to push past that, to the good stuff. Eventually, when Becky started to get a little hoarse from singing everyone’s praises, came the part Desiree would relish the most.
She watched the previously ill-tempered woman sweat as she admitted to some of her work friends being less than efficient at their jobs. She revealed a myriad of issues, both professional and character-based, that were holding them back as people and employees. She made sure to qualify those points with defensive phrases like, “but it’s not her fault” or “but she’s been trying to work on it.” Yet one by one, she stabbed each of her teammates in the back.
Eventually, Becky’s face took on the burdensome weight of someone who knew too much, but was in far too deep to back out. Desiree wanted to capitalize on that.
“You and me, Becky. We’ll salvage this great team, or whatever’s left of it. Thank you so much for your insight! And of course, your confidentiality.”
“Always, Desiree.”
They shared a hug, two combatants in an impending war, and Becky left the office.
Desiree collapsed in her chair, breathing a long sigh of relief. What a day! She could finally relax. Being the boss was hard, but she was finally starting to get the hang of it.
She knew that despite all promises of secrecy and allegiance, Becky was immediately going to disseminate the false news about the layoffs. Good. Let her. Let them all worry, and tremble in their Jimmy Choos.
This is how she would establish her authority and regain control. Someone had to drive the bus, and if the little people were only going to get in the way, then fuck them.
“Beep-beep, bitches.”
Desiree flipped her phone to selfie mode and checked her makeup. The new mascara was holding up well. She winked at her screen self.
“Not a bad first week on the job, boss-lady!”
