“Yes, but why?” I ask, turning to Margot.
She stiffens, eyes locked straight ahead. “If I accepted that promotion on the heels of the magazine article about us, everyone would make assumptions about how I got it.”
“Who cares?” I fire back. “Let them assume. You know you earned it.”
That damn magazine article. When I got home, I couldn’t let it go. All it took was a few calls to trace the article back to Amanda, the leasing agent at the apartment complex we visited. Apparently, her sister works for the magazine.
It pisses me off that a stupid fluff piece did so much damage, but I know my anger is misdirected. I was the one who did the real damage. I’m the one who broke Margot’s heart.
She finally turns in my direction, but her gaze stops short of mine. “It doesn’t matter. That position would oversee more than a hundred employees, all of whom would doubt my credentials and abilities given the circumstances of my promotion. I can’t lead a team of that size without their respect.”
“She’s right,” my brother says before I can argue otherwise.
Personally, I don’t think it’s that simple. Everyone already respects Margot. She’s proven herself time and time again. Sure, there would be some gossip around the office, but it would blow over. It always does. Not to mention the fact that this whole thing feels very misogynistic. I’m walking away with a slap on the wrist, but Margot has to turn down her promotion? What kind of bullshit is that?
I know my brother is just trying to be neutral and pragmatic, but it sits all wrong with me.
Garrett sits forward, lacing his fingers together on the desk. “Since Margot declined the promotion, and the two of you have chosen to end your relationship instead of disclosing it to HR, weneed to discuss what happens next. The board and I agree that Margot shouldn’t continue as your assistant.”
The words gut me. I’ve already lost her as a friend and a girlfriend; now I’m losing her as my assistant as well. It’s all I have left of her, and selfishly, I’m clinging to it like it’s the last molecule of oxygen on earth.
I glance over at Margot. If she’s surprised by this news, she doesn’t show it.
“Have you given any thought to where you’d like to transfer?” Garrett asks her.
She nods faintly, eyes fixed on her lap. “Accounting. Any department there is fine.” Her voice is thin, dejected.
“Accounts payable?” Garrett asks.
She nods again.
“It’ll be a lateral transition in terms of pay. I’ll submit the paperwork today, and the transition should be finalized by the end of the week.”
They both stand, signaling the end of the meeting. Instinctively, I rise from my chair as well, but I don’t know why. As far as I’m concerned, this meeting is far from over. When did this become my brother’s company again? Why is it his decision to shuffle my assistant around like a chess piece?
“Wait,” I say. “Is this really necessary?”
They exchange a glance. Their faces tell me everything I need to know. Margot asked for this, and because she’s Emma’s best friend, Garrett is doing her a favor. The board of directors didn’t demand a transfer, Margot did.
“I think you know it is,” Garrett says.
I turn to Margot. “You really want to transfer to the accounting department? You hate accounting. You’ve told me so a hundred times.”
She frowns. “I can’t keep being your assistant, Ethan. It’s either transfer or leave the company.”
The words aren’t angry or threatening. They’re hollow and lifeless, just like the rest of her. It’s like watching a ghost occupy Margot’s body. Watching her walk out of my office is like watching someone drag the empty shell of her back to her desk.
I remember when Jeremy broke her heart. She’d been gutted then too, but there were still flickers of her in there. Tiny sparks of light seeping through the cracks each day. But now, there’s nothing. No spark. No fight. Just a silence so deep it terrifies me. Knowing that I did this, that this is all my fault… it destroys me.
Garrett’s heavy hand lands on my shoulder as soon as Margot steps out of my office. “Sorry, brother. It’ll get better.”
With that, he leaves as well.
I sink into my chair and watch Margot through the glass wall of my office. After her last breakup, she spent hours documenting mattress prices and devising a new budget for herself. But now, she’s just sitting there, staring at a blank screen with her fingers idle on the keyboard.
She doesn’t want to see me. Doesn’t want to talk to me. But I can’t just sit here and do nothing. I need to know that she’s okay.
Picking up my phone, I type out a message to her.