Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 93140 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 466(@200wpm)___ 373(@250wpm)___ 310(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93140 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 466(@200wpm)___ 373(@250wpm)___ 310(@300wpm)
He pushed a few buttons on his phone and looked across at my office as he spoke on speakerphone. “Ireland is here to clean out her office. You might want to give her some space and finish setting up your new office when she’s done.”
“Yes, Mr. Bickman.”
I rolled my eyes. Yes, Mr. Bickman.
The asshole waved his hand, dismissing me to go do what I needed to do. “Don’t take too long.”
Disgusted, I turned to walk out of his office and then stopped and backed up. I hadn’t decided if I was going to go to HR about him firing me for retaliation. I really didn’t have any proof—I couldn’t show that Bickman was the one who’d surfaced the video that was my reason for being fired. And I knew threatening wouldn’t bother him at all. Still, I needed to make him feel like shit, so I could at least feel better.
I stepped back into his office and quietly closed the door behind me, turning to say one last thing.
“You’ve been looking for a reason to fire me for years. But it’s hard to justify when I’ve been a model employee, and our ratings have gone up consistently since I joined the show. Finally you found a reason. I don’t know how you did it, but I know you were behind Human Resources getting ahold of that video. Tell me, did you keep a copy for yourself? I hope you did, because that’ll be the only piece of ass you’ll ever see from this office. You certainly won’t be seeing any skin from the unqualified, barely-out-of-high-school girl you gave my job to. You think that will make her like you, but she’s busy banging that new intern from advertising. Oh, and remember Marge Wilson—the divorced, middle-aged temp you got drunk at the office Christmas party a few years back? The one you think no one knows you went home with?” I smiled and held up my pinky, waving it in the air. “Well, we all know. Her nickname for you was Inchworm.”
I opened the door, took a deep breath, and headed over to clean out nine years of my life.
Literally three minutes later, Security was at my office door, and Bickman stood right behind them.
I put the last of my things from the top drawer into a box and glowered at him. “I’m not done yet.”
“You’ve had long enough. We have work to do around here.”
I mumbled under my breath and opened the second drawer to continue packing. “God, you’re such an asshole, Inchworm.”
Apparently, I wasn’t very good at mumbling. Bickman’s face turned red, and he pointed toward the exit. “Out! Get out.”
I yanked the second drawer off the track and unceremoniously dumped the contents into my box. Then I did the same thing for two others and tossed the empty drawers onto the guest chairs on the other side of my desk. I grabbed the framed pictures that sat on my desk and my degree off the wall and jammed it all into the box.
The two uniformed security guards he’d summoned looked completely uncomfortable.
I smiled at one sadly. “I’ll leave so you don’t have to deal with this jerk.”
The guards followed me to the elevator bank and got into the car with me. Bickman at least had enough common sense to take a different elevator. Though when we stepped out on the lobby level, he exited the car next to us.
I shook my head and kept walking. “I think the two security guards are enough. You don’t need to escort me, Bickman.”
He kept his distance but followed behind, nonetheless. When I got to the main lobby area, there were a lot of people standing around. So I decided to go out with a bang. I stopped and turned around to face Bickman. Setting my heavy box on the floor in front of me, I pointed my finger at him and began to shout at the top of my lungs. “This man uses his position to try to take advantage of women. He just fired me and gave my job to some young girl because he thinks she might spread her legs to say thank you. I guess he isn’t familiar with the #MeToo movement.”
Bickman rushed forward and grabbed my elbow. I yanked it out of his hand.
“Don’t touch me.”
He took a few steps back when he realized people were watching and turned to scurry back to the elevator bank.
I needed to get the hell out of here before Security called the actual cops. So I took a deep, cleansing breath, lifted my box back up, and held my chin high as I marched toward the glass doors. Only…a man was walking directly in my path, heading right toward me with rapid, long strides. My steps faltered as I took in his face. His very pissed-off face.