The Randy Romance Novelist(9)



“I know talent when I see it, and you have talent, Henry.”

My heart eased for a second, until he said . . .

“But . . .”

The word “but,” it could either make or break you.

I love you so much, but . . .

Your hair looks nice, but . . .

I can’t have sex with you tonight, but . . .

I waited with bated breath while he finished what he was about to say, my brain turning a mile a minute, recounting every indiscretion I might have caused. Nothing, I came up with absolutely nothing.

“But, I made a mistake a few years ago. I acquiesced to some investors who wanted to come in and take a percentage of the company, allowing them to put in their two cents when they wanted. At the time, it was a good idea because it allowed me to expand the company to where it is today, but it also took away some of my control.”

“Okaaaay,” I drawled out, nerves continuing to ricochet through my stomach to the point that I actually felt like I was going to throw up. I couldn’t lose this job.

“I am in need of a Director of Social Media Marketing, and I wanted you to have the position.”

I sat up in my chair, excitement beaming through me. That would be a gigantic promotion, a big enough promotion where Rosie wouldn’t have to work in a cat box all day, picking fights with tabbies and plucking cat hair from her food. She could stay at home and be the author she aspired to be, and when I said stay at home, I didn’t mean in our little apartment, no, we would own a house in the burbs where I would commute every day and come home to wifey in an apron, and only an apron. Yes, I said wifey; like I said, she will be my wife, no doubt about that.

This job would be the perfect first step toward a lifelong future with Rosie Bloom.

Visions of coming home to Rosie in an apron flooded my brain, just as Eric said, “But that choice is not mine to make.”

What did he just say? Shaking my head, I asked, “Can you repeat that?”

“It’s not my choice who is hired as the Director of Social Media Marketing; it’s the board of investors’ choice. As you are aware, social media marketing and advertising have become the new norm, and they want to make sure whoever is hired is competent, innovative, and able to take the company to the next level.”

“I know I can do that, sir.” Yup, I said sir. “I’ve been able to elevate social media advertising for all my clients, giving them a more recognizable online profile. I’ve also developed some advertising formulas to get the best use out of money invested and offered more visibility. In addition, I’ve been able to produce a perfect combination of SEO tag words for each client, boosting their online sales. Ask any of my recent clients; their online sales have sky-rocketed.”

Eric held up his hand to end my desperate attempt to be considered for the job. “Henry, you don’t have to convince me; I know your hard work and innovation have provided great service to some of our most notable clients. But, sadly, it’s not my choice. It comes down to what the board wants, and honestly, what they want to see is a female presence in the office.”

“What? We have plenty of women in the office, the entire creative design team is women; we are actually outnumbered by the women in this building by more than sixty percent.” I know this because, thanks to Freddy, he’s counted and told me many times that it’s a man’s wet dream to work in an office where there is a two to one ratio of women to men.

“Freddy give you the count?” Eric asked. I nodded my head. Speaking unprofessionally for a brief moment, Eric replied, “That man is the biggest asshat I’ve ever met, but his work never fails to impress.” He shook his head and continued, “Anyway, we are truly an office full of women, except for the advertising team. That doesn’t sit well with the board, who is led by a female.”

“So, what does that mean?” I asked, trying not to show my irritation.

I’m all for women’s rights; I would be the first one in the front lines to demand equal pay and equal rights for women. Call me a feminist; I dare you . . . it would be a huge compliment to me. If I’m doing the same job as a woman, why wouldn’t she get paid the same amount of money?

But . . .

(See what I did there)

I don’t think you should hire someone just based on their sex, male or female. All résumés should be filled with accomplishments, work ethic, and experience, strip the names off the top and then hire based off that, not on what kind of sexual organ is in one’s pants. Then . . . pay them according to their credentials and skills, not on what kind of private parts they have.

“It means the board is bringing in an outside hire.”

Unable to hold in my rage, I stood abruptly, sending my chair backward, and started to pace the floor of Eric’s office, trying not to bump into the sharp edges of his glass coffee tables. My hand gripped my forehead as I tried to the soothe the boiling rage inside of me.

“Just like that, someone is hired from the outside because they have a vagina? I’ve worked my ass off for this company, and I actually love my job, Eric. I love coming in every day and finding a solution to our clients’ needs. It’s like a puzzle I get to solve on a daily basis. I’ve always seen myself grow in this position, and under your leadership, I knew there would be opportunity, but apparently not.” I pulled on my hair, and under my breath, I mumbled, “Fuck.”

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