Chapter 4: Harlow

Chapter Four

HARLOW

I t starts to rain halfway from the condo to the bus stop. The bus stop is also one of those that is just a pole and a sign. No bench, no protective overhang. It's also a half mile away from the condo because none of those people need a bus. Their staff probably use public transport, but the residents all drive foreign cars with the fancy emblems that probably cost more than a year's metro pass. But today the rain, the distance, the smell of my soggy wool skirt doesn't bother me at all.

I'm not tired either despite staying up until two in the morning finishing the feasibility report for the new eco-friendly laundry scent pods our client is launching. I wanted to get the report done earlier, but I had been waiting on the other people on the team to get the supply numbers together. Numbers aren't my forte, but after fighting with the spreadsheet application for more hours than I want to admit, I was able to put together something that made sense. None of that matters now.

I'm going to keep my grandma's home. Sure, I have to pretend to marry some guy who lied in his dating profile, but like he said, doesn't everyone lie? I should have lied too. Like that's the first rule of internet safety. I was just dumb about it. Well, not dumb but not as savvy as I could have been. He was truthful when we met in person and corrected all of his previous mistruths, so it's all good. Great, even. I wave to Jill, the receptionist, and almost skip into the break room to make myself a cup of fake cafe latté. Fake because it's from a mix, but I'm too cheap to order a real one from the cafe downstairs.

"Why are you whistling?" Stacy, one of my coworkers, scowls at me over her mug that says I'm a bad bxtch . That's not a misspelling. We're not allowed to have profanities on things here.

"I didn't realize I was." I pull my lips inward.

"It's Wednesday. There's nothing to be happy about."

Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed. I sidle past her and grab my mug and the coffee pod. Stacy keeps watching me over the top of her mug.

"Did you finish the report?"

"Yes. I'm not sure about the supply data." If I remember correctly, it was Stacy who said she'd cover that topic.

"I can look it over for you, if you want."

Gratitude washes over me. "Would you?"

She smiles, all irritation over my whistling gone. "Of course. Is it uploaded to the intranet?"

"Yeah. Under yesterday's date, version 5."

"Version 5?" She arches a perfectly manicured eyebrow.

I flush. "I struggled with the spreadsheet program."

"I'll look it over." She checks her watch. "Meeting is in fifteen. I better get moving. Take your time with the coffee."

Stacy's not usually so nice to me. Sometimes she can even be a little, well, mean. Like one time she asked me if I was a thrifter. I said no and asked why, and she said that my outfits gave her that impression. Maybe she meant that I was creative with my clothes, but since I just generally wear navy skirts and white shirts, I didn't think so.

I do as she suggests and take my time, lingering over my pod-made cafe latté. Impulsively, I make a second cup to take into the meeting. Usually I don't have anything with me in the meeting, although most of the other team members do. I was always afraid I'd knock it over and ruin a proposal. I've only been on the job for six months, barely past my trial period, but today will be different.

I grip my mug tightly before leaving to fetch the report. Stacy waves me off. "You can go in. I'll bring the report. I'm just finishing up a few things."

"Cool." I'm the second one to arrive at the meeting room. I nod toward Harry, the intern, who is plugging in the electronic whiteboard.

He doesn't acknowledge me, but I don't take it personally. He's probably nervous. I hate the tech equipment and would be sweating bullets right now if I was Harry.

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.