“As you can see here, we have a well put together proposal, but it completely misses the mark. The person has no vision. She clearly doesn’t understand the demographic or how to target them. This proposal would be dead on arrival once it hit my inbox, and I’d wonder if the employee who handed in something like this rubbish was qualified to work here.”
When Heather completes her spiel, she turns her attention from the slide and levels it directly at me.
I have a very short time to figure out if I want to challenge her, and if so, how exactly I go about doing so without pissing her off and rallying her minions to her defense.
She’s such a bitch, and the smarmy smirk on her face and her shady example emphasizes it.
“Blakely?” she prompts.
Heather vs. Blakely: Round One.
I take a deep breath and speak. “As her boss, I’d sit with her and ask for more specifics. Why she chose to market this demographic. What factors she considered while making her plan. What her secondary goal was with this proposal.”
“Secondary goal?” Heather asks.
“Yes. Obviously, the main priority is to produce sales, but what else is Glam trying to achieve? Brand awareness? Repeat customer purchases? A new customer introduction into our line of products? There always has to be a secondary goal to a campaign. So, that’s what I’d ask my employee because every idea deserves to be heard regardless of what you think on the onset. You never know what other ideas it might spark.”
Heather continues to stare at me while my coworkers nod. I wait until she goes to speak, and I continue, purposely cutting her off.
“The question is, how did this campaign do?”
“How would I know?” she scoffs.
“Well, there is a date on this campaign, so we know it was run. If you click on the second tab of that spreadsheet right there, it will tell you just how well it did.”
“That isn’t needed,” Heather says and switches the screen.
“If you’re going to criticize my work in front of my coworkers, then at least show the whole picture.”
There’s a sharp intake from my right by Cliché Karen as others shift uncomfortably in their seats.
“Criticism is how we learn,” Heather says, a sharp rebuke in her tone.
“If that were the case then you’d be fair and look at the whole picture. You’d click on that second tab and show that despite your comments about the campaign, our launch was successful. The new line we were pushing had one of the best releases to date on top of a forty percent spike in overall sales. That spike sustained for four months, which is longer on average than others. So, while the campaign may seem dated to you, it was actually quite successful.”
Funny how when I finish, it seems all of the air has suddenly been sucked from the room.
“Moving on,” Heather dismisses with a quick shake of her head. And on she drones from one slide to the next. None of them mine like the first one was, but they are someone’s nonetheless.
By the time we’ve worked through her slides, nature is calling me. And I don’t mean going to the bathroom. I mean the outdoors that I’ve never liked before now seems a hundred times better than being in this stuffy room with Horrible Heather.
That, and I get to see Slade again. The thought makes me giddy like a high school crush. I should be ashamed of it, but I’m not.
“So, we’ll see you in forty minutes down at the dock for paddleboard yoga, everyone!”
I catch Gemma’s wince and am glad that I’m not the only one who isn’t fond of the combination of two activities. On their own, I can manage, but putting them together is going to be a disaster.
“Blakely, can I have a word?”
The air deflates in my chest, but my voice remains chipper. “Sure. Yeah.” I keep my back to her with my hand on the door.
“I wasn’t trying to offend you with the critique today.”
I plaster my fuck-you smile on my lips when I turn to look at her. “Of course you weren’t. You were too busy pointing out to everyone how inadequate I was in an effort to undermine any support I might have for the VP position.”
“I’d never do such a thing.” She crosses her arms over her chest. “You have more experience than anyone for the job.”
Exactly. I have more experience than even you.
“Barbie was telling me all about her run-in with you and Slade last week.”
“Oh?” I’ve been waiting for this to come up.
“She was just saying how Paul thought it was interesting how you’d been hanging on to hope that the two of you would get back together and then, there you were, with Slade. Pretty convenient if you ask me.”
I laugh and hope I pull it off. “Convenient? Just because your bestie is marrying my ex, it doesn’t give you the right to have any commentary on my personal life. Paul lost the right to have any thoughts or opinions about me a long time ago, so I wouldn’t put much stock in his opinions considering he knows nothing about me. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go and get my suit on for paddleboarding.”
Right when I reach for the doorknob, her words hit me from behind. “Good luck trying to keep a man like that.”
I freeze as I try to figure out how to respond. I think of the girl in the bar and how I let her scare me away without my saying a word. I think of how I vowed to never cower from a comment again, and then I rationalize that I don’t have a choice but to walk away without a word this time.
Why give her more fuel for her fire? Why bark back when I know she’s looking for a fight?
I grit my teeth, swallow my urge to lay into her, and then turn and look at her with
