After I spend the next two hours sitting in my office staring at my computer and trying to work, Andrea knocks at my door and says, “Lunch? I’m getting Jaimi and some others sandwiches from that great place around the corner. Want one?”
I don’t. Even the thought of all that bread and unmeasurable filling makes the back of my throat slam shut like a prison cell door. But I should probably eat something so I say, “Small green salad, please. The smallest one they have. No dressing.”
She frowns. “That’s all? Not even a yogurt or something to go with it?”
I haven’t eaten yogurt since that day I tried to buy one and couldn’t. I shake my head. “Just the salad. And a water. How much do I owe you?”
Her frown doesn’t fade but she glances at the menu and says, “Eight bucks.”
I stand up to get my wallet from my bag on its hook by the door, then promptly sit down again as the blood leaves my brain too quickly.
“Careful,” Andrea says. “You okay?”
“Of course. Just a little… my foot fell asleep.”
I get up again more slowly, shaking my supposedly sleeping foot, and as I walk to the door Andrea says, “Valerie, I haven’t been getting you lunch lately. You… um… you are eating, right?”
I find my wallet and give her a ten. “Obviously, or you wouldn’t be getting me a salad now.”
“True, but… I wish I had your willpower, and don’t get me wrong, you look amazing, but you do need to eat. With your sister and all that, you need your strength.”
“My strength’s in not eating,” I say without meaning to, then wish I hadn’t when her eyes widen. “Never mind,” I say quickly. “Nothing.”
She reaches behind her and pushes my office door closed. “Valerie, you… I’m worried.”
I shut my eyes and sigh. “Don’t be.” I turn without looking at her and make my way back to my desk. “Really, it’s nothing. Counting my calories and knowing exactly what I’m taking in just helps me right now. That’s all.”
I drop into my chair, but she doesn’t speak. After a moment I look up and say, “Anything else?”
She’s staring at me like she might throw up.
“What?”
“I… nothing. Nothing. I…”
She turns and hurries out.
I look at the open door for a moment, wondering what her problem is, then decide I don’t care.
She returns in fifteen minutes or so, just as I’ve gotten myself focused on work. Annoyed by her interruption I look up and barely manage not to snap, “Yes?”
“Sorry, I…” She holds out a paper bag. “Your lunch.”
“I know,” I say as calmly as I can. “Right here on my desk, okay?”
She sets it down, then rubs at her eye. That reminds me of her letting me go upstairs with only half my face made up. I take a breath to tell her off, then let it out without speaking. What’s the point? I’ll be promoted soon and won’t have to deal with her any more.
When she doesn’t leave, I say, “Thank you. Anything else?”
“I… no. No, nothing.”
She hurries off and closes my door quietly behind her, and after two sips of the cold water I pull on a cardigan over my dress though I know Elle far prefers the look of bare arms. I do too, but I’m too chilly to handle it right now.
I eat the salad one tiny nibble at a time but still find myself uninterested in it when it’s barely half gone. Food just doesn’t matter to me any more. Andrea arrives again at two to inform me she’s going out for lattes, and I see her look sadly at my remaining salad but she’s smart enough not to comment. I order my usual coffee with sugar-free syrup and it does help to give me warmth and energy, although all of that flees from me at five after three when Elle’s assistant calls and informs me my presence is required in the conference room.
Jaimi and I take the elevator up together in silence, which would probably be awkward if I had the energy to feel awkwardness. We walk to the conference room, and she reaches for the door then changes direction and holds her hand out to me. “Good luck,” she says, her cheeks going pink. “If it weren’t for you I wouldn’t have been anywhere near ready for this.”
I accept her hand and we shake as I say, “Good luck to you too.” Good luck back in your old job, I add in my head, then she opens the door and gestures for me to go in ahead of her.
I straighten my shoulders and walk as confidently as I can into the conference room, but a few steps in such a wave of exhaustion hits me that I stumble.
“Are you okay?”
I look back at Jaimi. “Fine,” I say, trying to sound calm and amused. “You stepped on my heel, that’s all.”
“I… sorry,” she says.
I turn forward again and my eyes meet Drew’s. I see in his expression that he knows Jaimi didn’t step on me, and I also see that he likes that. Jaimi is too sweet to be a board member, and by mistake I proved it.
A surge of pleasure pushes back my weak dizziness, and I take my seat with confidence.
Elle nods at Jaimi and me and says toward the phone in the middle of the table, “Robert, we’re all here. Are you?”
Once he’s responded, she begins with, “Now then, we’ve been—” then unbelievably Drew speaks over her. “After your presentations,” he says, his eyes flicking from Jaimi to me and back again, “we spent the day discussing who we think is best suited to joining our board and providing the financial leadership we all know we need. And we’ve made a decision.”
I look to Elle, shocked that Drew dared to cut her off, then feel even more shock at the realization that she’s looking at me with what can only be sympathy.
Oh, no. God, please no. I can’t handle this. I can’t—
“Valerie,” Drew says, and I force myself to turn to him. “You obviously have more experience than Robert or Jaimi, and that’s of course a huge factor. You’re also very focused and dedicated, and determined to get what you want, which are great qualities in an executive. We all agree we’ve never seen someone who keeps her work and life so carefully controlled.” He clears his throat. “Other than Elle, of course.”
I can’t disagree with any of that, but the way he said it makes those things sound like a problem and that terrifies me so it’s hard to hear his next words over the blood pounding in my ears.
“Robert, you have a great deal of relevant experience as well and you bring the outsider perspective which can be valuable. Your proposed plan would be a huge change for us so we needed to think very carefully about whether we wanted to go in that direction.”
“I see,” Robert says, sounding like he’s got the hint that they decided against him.
Maybe there’s still hope. If they don’t want him, then maybe—
“Jaimi,” Drew says, his voice taking on a new warmth, “you’ve moved up incredibly quickly, and we know that’s partially due to Valerie’s mentoring but mostly to your own hard work and personality. We were impressed with your presentation, and also with your interactions with us after the presentation. Nobody has a bad word to say about you, and after today we can see why.”
Jaimi smiles, and the other executives smile back, and I notice with increasing horror that all of them are sitting further from Elle than they had been in the morning. They’ve grouped together with Drew. Away from Elle. So they are one team now. Which means Elle…
And me…
“I won’t drag this out,” Drew says, after doing just that. “Jaimi, you are our new chief financial officer. We will make the announcement tomorrow morning, and we look forward to working with you and molding you into a perfect addition to our board.”
She gasps and stammers her thanks, and I stare at Elle. “But… I’m exactly what you look for in management. You said so.”
“You are,” she confirms. “You’re exactly what I look for.”
Her faint stress on the “I” tells me everything. I focused entirely on Elle, but the rest of the board made the decision. They wanted sweet pliable Jaimi, not me. I hadn’t even thought to pay attention to them. I didn’t think they mattered. I screwed up. Again.
I focused on the wrong thing and I lost the promotion. Like I’d focused on the wrong thing and killed Anthony.
I’d thought I was in control. Not even close.
I push myself slowly to my feet, not wanting to risk the humiliation of passing out. “Congratulations, Jaimi,” I say, though the words feel like daggers ripping my throat. “Congrats on being exactly what the board wanted.”
She smiles, not seeming to recognize the insult behind my words, and I nod at the others and walk with what I hope seems like calm dignity to the door.
At least, I think once I’m safely alone in the elevator, at least Gloria is all right. My efforts have paid off there. Nothing else is going right, but I’ve held my diet together and Gloria is benefiting from it.
When I reach my office, I close the door and slump into my chair. Most people would have cried, but even if I were the crying type I don’t have the energy.
My phone in my bag buzzes.
Moving like I’m a hundred years old, I force myself out of the chair and over to get the phone.
Then I stare at the text message from my dad.
“Valerie, get to the hospital ASAP. Gloria’s got pneumonia.”