17~The Worst Workday

[Emily]

“So what are you doing?” I asked Lisa, whose eyes were glued to the computer screen, but she wasn't giving me an ounce of attention. 

After a while, she finally remembered to answer me.

“We need to access a report of the budget and expenditure for last year’s marketing campaigns, but Mr Stradford isn’t around, so we're trying to see if we can access it on the database without his permission.”

“Oh, let me help then.”

After three hours, going through the data and running around from department to department, I was ready to declare today as my worst day here.

And we weren’t even halfway done. If I could rate today, I would give it a negative five-star review.

Just as I thought it couldn’t get any worse, the telephone beside my desk buzzed with a call.

“Hello, Emily from marketing speaking,” I answered brusquely.

“Come to my office immediately.” The line disconnected immediately, and I was filled with dread.

What does he want from me now?

I grabbed my notepad and walked to Ms Tasha’s office, but there was no one there. Her secretary directed me to the one he was currently using, which was a few metres away.

I knocked before stepping inside. Ms Tasha's office was more artistically pleasing compared to his. While hers was vibrant and warming, his was plain and boring, just like him. He was standing by the window, hands in his pockets, staring down at the skyline like he owned the world.

“You wanted to see me, sir?”

Elias turned slowly, his expression unreadable. “Ms Matthews, although I’d like to scold you for your lack of punctuality, we have far more pressing issues at hand. I’ve been reviewing the marketing analytics for the Lockwood-LensCorp merger campaign.”

I nodded, looking everywhere but at him. “Yes, I submitted those to the database last night.”

He held up a printed version of the report, flipping through it like a prosecutor about to present evidence. “And you believe these projections are acceptable.”

“Yes,” I said evenly. “They’re based on the latest market trends and competitor analysis. The figures reflect realistic…”

“Realistic or mediocre? Which one is it, Ms Matthews?”

I blinked but said nothing.

He closed the folder. “These reports lack ambition. You’re focusing on maintaining current market share when we should be expanding it. You’re thinking like an employee, not a leader.”

Anger mixed with fear prickled under my skin, and I said through clenched teeth. “With all due respect, sir, I’m thinking like an analyst who understands market saturation. We expand too fast, and we risk destroying our own campaigns.”

His mouth curved slightly, not quite a smile. “You disagree with me?”

"No, sir, I just disagree with bad analysis," my mouth spoke without my permission.

His eyes flashed, and for a brief second, the air thickened between us. He stepped closer, his voice lower now. “Watch your tone, Ms Matthews.”

I stepped back nervously, but tried to play it cool. He can’t see my weaknesses, especially how much I feared him.

I exhaled slowly, forcing a polite smile. “Understood, sir.”

He studied me for a while, then turned away. “Revise this and submit it before the close of today. You may go.”

I rushed out of his office as though my feet were on fire. When he’d stepped closer earlier, he’d scared me. It was a truth I couldn’t deny.

I was scared of him because I knew what he could do to his enemies.

How can I stay here for two more years?